‘Aaron, you’re not going to become a go-getter now, are you?’
We had at long last identified the cause of Aaron’s chronic suffering and fatigue, tracing it to an ill-fated tick bite he suspects he got during MMT in the spring of 2010. And following an initial bout of elation I was struck with trepidation. What if the mellow, sleepy Aaron I’d come to adore was only a Lyme-depressed manifestation of him?? What if the post-doxycycline Aaron would be less inclined towards naps and CSI marathons and instead favor frenetic activity? He had been a triathlete, after all! For goodness sake, what if the healthy version of Aaron would turn out to be….ambitious?
Aaron’s condition had flared after running Highland Sky, when he had a week of 102 degree fevers, teeth-chattering chills, and extreme fatigue. The experience triggered an idea that his many years of malaise might have been related to a pathogen, rather than the Achilles problem he had chalked it up to. The first two doctors were not impressed that slipping to a mere 2:50 marathon time could possibly represent a medical problem, and would not satisfy our request for a Lyme disease test. Finally, I snuck Aaron in to see my primary care physician, Dr Hunter, took his case seriously and ordered a battery of tests, including for all tick-borne illnesses.
We’re ready for a long road to recovery, but are elated to finally be on it. It’s amazing how many fellow trail runners know someone who has had Lyme disease or have experienced it themselves. As an infectious disease epidemiologist, it’s been fascinating to learn about the ecology and spread of Lyme — and troubling to read about the market failure 15 years ago of a vaccine with fairly good effectiveness against Lyme disease, but which was pulled after media hyping of false links to adverse events. Don’t get me started on the media and vaccines.
And no, Aaron promises, he won’t turn into a go-getter. But he might give me a taste of my own medicine on a long run.
Catherine’s Fat Ass 50k
Massanuttan Mtns, VA
July 20, 2013
Nothing says summer like frozen custard, watermelon, and the purple trail.
schmitty & seanie: the last of the leesburg mafia
I liked driving to Catherine’s Fat Ass with Brian S. Sure, he made us arrive a full hour before the run started, but this was more than redeemed by stopping at Sheetz twice and even taking me and Sean to Pack’s.
For some reason this year’s Catherine’s course was substantially altered to an out and back (I’m not sure because I was napping in Brian’s car for most of the pre-run period). Sean was very cranky about this, probably because there wouldn’t be enough rocks. So I suggested we just do the old route and as long as we got aid a couple times it would be fine. Brian, Sean, and I recruited Keith, Neal, Matt B, and newbie John A. as fellow renegades to go the old route.
I liked the run. It was certainly hot in the sun, but not terribly oppressive. I was very disappointed to not see a bear again after all the reported sightings at Jeremy’s Run a few weeks ago, but that was more than made up for by the good company. Sean, Neal, John, and I formed a pack for the first ten miles and then after Sean and Brian went short Matt, Neal, John and I ran together to the finish. It was great to see Neal out there after his long bout with cytomegalovirus this spring. And now that Sean has moved to Leesburg I hardly get to see him at all, so it was great to run with him too. And it was John A.’s first ultra experience — quite an intro, what with the heat, the hornet’s nest (we all got stung, including John in a place too close for comfort), the limited aid, and the purple trail. But John was very game and a cheerful new addition. He also wrote a much more detailed blog about our jaunt here.
i almost made as much mess eating watermelon as the frozen custard
When we pulled into the finish the parking lot was abuzz with people, burgers, and watermelon. Despite opting for the 20-mile version, Brian and Sean had gamely waited for me. I had run out of water with a couple miles to go, so the watermelon (seedless AND organic) was particularly refreshing. There were a lot of people I wanted to catch up with more, but I had already pulled two ticks off me just sitting there in the grassy lot (which I’m particularly paranoid about right now because we suspect Aaron’s chronic fatigue is due to lyme disease) and Sean and Brian were eager to get to the Pack’s frozen custard stand we’d spotted — which, after five and a half hours in the heat, sounded like a pretty darn good idea.
Canaan Valley, WV
June 15, 2013
Happy Birthday, Aaron! (his present was a smiley, puke-free girlfriend)
Aaron was right: the 50k distance wasn’t too long for me, it was too short. Although I had been reluctant to try running a longer distance until I had mastered eating and holding my stomach in the 50k, Aaron had a theory that the 50k distance was my sweet spot (or rather my not-so-sweet spot), because the race was long enough to require me to eat a lot, but fast enough that I never had good opportunities to relax enough to chow down. He had a notion that if I lengthened the distance and could lower the intensity, I’d be able to walk and eat and take my merry time and not experience my stomach eruptions.
Despite my catastrophically bad 2011 DNF at Highland Sky two years ago, the only DNF in my trail and road racing career, we decided to put Aaron’s notion to the test back at Highland Sky this year. Aaron has a vacation house in Canaan Valley and I have come to love running in the area, wiping away all the bad memories from the 2011 race, where my stomach went south and stumbling across that damned Road Across the Sky was one of my most miserable experiences of my running career.
I had never run as far as 40 miles before, but this year I was prepared. Aaron and I have been running together in the Sodds for two years now and I have come to adore the area and know the trails and terrain. I had a breakthrough a month ago when I finally discovered trail shoes that aren’t so high-cut and don’t irritate my ankle bone (Vasques), and here they made their racing debut and wonderfully spared my feet against the jagged rocks (although they’re a bit more slippery than my Pegasus on wet rocks and wood — I did a lot of pussy-footin’ in those sections). I also made the racing debut of my relatively light 1.5 liter bladder, complete with a drink mix I’ve found that agrees with me: U-CAN blueberry pomegranate.
Still, my ultra newbie was quickly made apparent by the fact that I put my bladder in upside down and Aaron had to fix it at mile 2 when I started complaining about the hose smacking me in the face. The guy running behind us who witnessed the blunder quickly identified me to the woman he was running with as someone who would surely come back to them later in the race. He told me this story at the finish line after the race, when it was particularly amusing as I had just set a new CR. My running green exhibited itself again when I asked Aaron at mile 10 to adjust my bladder straps, as it was entirely too loose and had been bouncing painfully on my poor innards.
But overall I couldn’t have asked for a smoother sail. Everything fell into place. Even though I felt bad for Doug that he had a work crisis and ended up having to crew instead of run, Let Me Tell You How Much I Love Crewing. Not that there was a lot of crewing to be done here, just one crewing spot at the half-way point. But having Doug drive Kerry, Aaron, and me to the race, Getting to Leave on My Warm Hoodie until the gun went off (yes, it was actually quite chilly at 6am). Divinity! And the highlight of the race was seeing Doug and Joe running up the road, keys and wallets jangling, to get drop bags for me and Aaron at mile 20.
try running this submerged in mud and black water
Although the first half of Highland Sky is quite technical, the second half rewards those who can spare enough juice in their legs to clip right along in the faster road and Dolly Sods plains sections. This year the first half of the race was particularly arduous, as Hurricane Andrea had dumped buckets on Canaan Valley over the last week, obscuring the rocks beneath long black puddle ponds and deep shoe-sucking black mud. One unfortunate runner this year actually lost her shoe in the mud and had it swept away by the water and had to run 7 miles with only one shoe to the next aid station. Due to the mud, the course had to be altered slightly at Timberline, going down the long and winding Salamander ski slope instead of the infamously steep ‘butt slide.’
Aaron ran with me for the first half, splashing through the puddles and doing our darndest to keep upright. During the first half we also ran with Ragan for a bit, and three of us enjoyed a good 3-WUS pee at the top of the first climb. But there was a luscious long technical downhill after the 2nd aid station, and wet rocks be damned, I let myself enjoy it thoroughly (and poor Aaron had to follow along), and after that we parted with Ragan. At mile 20 is the major aid station, where Doug and Joe provided excellent crewing (and an excellent opportunity for Kerry to drop when her tendinitis flared up). Aaron’s heel bursitis was also flaring, so at the aid station he told me to ‘Fly away, little bird’ for the next 7 miles of the dreaded ‘Road from the Sky’.
the endless, open Road Across the Sky
I was reluctant to leave Aaron, I was so enjoying his company (and it was his 36th birthday!). But he made a firm call, insisted I go on, and I trusted his decision. Running the long, straight road was dull enough, so I was particularly lonely running it without him. But after that slogging slow mudfest, it was a somewhat welcome relief to be able to tick off some easier miles and look at something besides your feet for a bit. And there sure is something nice about getting to that aid station at the end at mile 27 and being about to look back and see a mile of empty road with no one coming. I don’t let myself look back much when I run, it’s kind of a soft rule of mine just to run my own race and not bother with what’s coming, but there were three spots where you could see so far back that I couldn’t resist: at the end of the Road Across the Sky, at the last aid station, and one last time on the last road to Canaan Valley resort. Each time, the road was empty, allowing me to relax.
In the Sodds I was happy to catch up to two guys, including Matt Bugin, whose wife Holly I know from previous races. Given my complete ignorance of how to pace a 40-mile run, particularly those long gradual climbs in the Sodds, I was glad to have some guys to key off of, and I ran behind Matt to the end of the Sodds, where I took off down the long Salamander Ski slope. I spent much of the second half just trying to stay calm, cool, and collected. I sang along in my head to teh White Stripes, ‘We’re Going to be Friends.’ Whenever I felt my pace creeping up on me, I chided myself to ‘keep it in the pants’. Somehow this catchphrase always got me to slow down, maybe because it made me laugh so hard.
Youngster Jake Reed ran away with the men’s race, leaving Jeremy Ramsey a bridesmaid for the nth year (although 25, Mr Reed is not new to ultra running, winning Promise Land and Terrapin Mt a couple years ago — tho this was his first HS)
Although, as Brian G will attest to from last year, the last 5 miles of straight road are somewhat boring and onerous, it is awfully nice at the end of a race to be able to look back a half mile behind you and see nothing but empty road. By the time I rolled into the last aid station, I couldn’t see any runners behind me. I wasn’t wearing a watch, so I had no inkling that I was potentially set to break a CR. Apparently RD Dan Lehman had been tracking me and I went through the last aid station at 6:30-something and with 4.1 miles to go the CR was 7:03:50-something. But the end was mainly road (except for one abominable stretch of high grass that had turned to swamp in sections — by far Brian’s least favorite part of the finish when I paced him last year).
always the belly shot!
With no one behind me, I walked wherever it suited me. But fortunately after running for 7 hours there was an overwhelming drive to just get ‘er done and I did sneak below the previous CR by a little less than a minute (Aaron and I were off somewhere chatting when the race started, so it would have been a bit frustrating if I’d missed the CR by seconds). More importantly, I felt strong and good and held my stomach, as my goal had not been to win, but to run a strong, comfortable race where I felt good. The last two aid stations I wasn’t having a whole lot of appetite, but I took a whole cup of ginger ale and made myself walk out of the aid station sipping it until I finished it. Honestly, if I had won the race, but barfed and felt terrible in the process, it would have been more disappointing than finishing 2nd or 3rd.
Michele winning the masters
It was nice to be able to celebrate my good race with other WUSsies at the finish. Ragan finished second behind me, completing the WUSsie 1-2 domination reminiscent of the Women’s Half Marathon. She’s coming off a challenging spring of training while on sabbatical in NYC, which has a dearth of parks you can pee in. And Michele represented by winning the Masters division. It was an absolutely beautiful day, and Doug and Kerry continued to be angels of divinity by fetching a couple Siriani’s pizzas. There is a very friendly vibe at the finish area of Highland Sky, probably because all of us are so grateful to have had the opportunity to experience such a beautiful course — and so relieved to have survived its punishing design.
Dan with his fast ladies
When we were driving home from the race, I remarked to Aaron that even though part of what we love about coming to our vacation house here in Canaan is getting away from everything and being entirely unfettered and unstructured about time and commitments, the area has such a friendly and vibrant local community (including RD Dan Lehman, Adam Casseday, Luke Fleishmen), that we should try to be more involved, even if it means having to set an alarm and plan a day from time to time.
Amanda Miller and Mark Schwartzbard make their dog Beans legitimate
Over Memorial Day weekend we celebrated the union of Aaron’s brother Mark and his lovely bride Amanda in Joshua Tree, California. It was a bit of an ordeal driving through LA traffic to Pioneertown (I don’t know how people endure LA), but we were amply rewarded with a weekend of relaxation, adventure, and celebration in one of the most beautiful and other-wordly parts of America.
the happy couple
The wedding was a small (<60 guests), no-frills event, with none of the usual wedding fanfare of bridesmaids, toasts, wedding gifts, etc.
and Aaron’s very happy parents
Part of the wedding involved going to the ‘Integratron‘. I will let you explore the link here yourself to learn about this ‘fusion of science, art, and magic.’
The Integratron is an acoustically perfect tabernacle
and energy machine sited on a powerful geomagnetic vortex
in the magical Mojave Desert
getting our chakras aligned at the integratron
Aaron and I had plenty of time to explore the surrounds. I hadn’t done any desert running since my college days in New Mexico. It was very good to be back.
at one with the joshua tree universe
Our first run took us into a land of hippies and drug use and what turned out to be an event called Storytellers Fest that also drew some interesting personalities.
thanks mark and amanda for having a wedding in a location with lots of cool running trails!
The next day we ran the Boyscout Trail in Joshua Tree National Park. I really dug the lizards, particularly the zebra-tailed lizard (I’m not making this up: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zebra-tailed_lizard).
soooo many lizards!
The sun was INTENSE. I cannot emphasize enough the need for sun protection out there. I can get away with not putting sunblock on my legs when I run in DC, even in the heat of summer. The desert will punish such oversights. Fortunately, Mark and Amanda overlooked no creature comforts and all guests were provided with desert parasols.
aaron appreciates the shade of the parasol
Finally, I would like to give a shout-out to Ruby’s Diner. The drive from LA that was supposed to take 2-2.5 hours took us over 4 in traffic. We were driving through the middle of nowhere and it was 10pm EST and I was turning into a pumpkin for want of dinner. In desperation I had finally agreed to turn off at a road stop that appeared to have a McDonalds and what we thought was a Ruby Tuesdays. Just as I was drowning in existential doubt over which option was less likely to make me vomit: McDonald’s or Ruby Tuesday, we came across Ruby’s Diner. Now THAT is a desert oasis.
when in doubt…Ruby’s!
May 12, 2013, Wilmington, DE
2nd place, 11th overall, 2:56
In the week following the Boston Marathon bombing I decided I wanted to run Boston next year in 2014. I’ve been on a three-year Boston plan, running Boston in 2006, 2009, and 2012, which is based on the fact that it seems to take me exactly three years to forget how painful running Boston was the last time (that course eats me alive, pushing me out too fast during the downhill start and then punishing me on the Newton hills). But the bombing struck a deep nerve, and when the racers lace up to face down their fears next year, I want to be there with them.
But given that Boston registration occurs in September and no one except the North Face dreams of holding a major running event during the steamy Mid-Atlantic summer (a mistake NF won’t repeat), I had to scramble to find a marathon in the area to get my BQ (as you’ll recall, the timing mats had been removed by the time we got to the starting line of the Baltimore Marathon in October, so I didn’t have a qualifying time). In the nick of time I found the Delaware Marathon, a solid two weeks after Promise Land and a mere 2-hr drive from DC. I could trot a BQ easy and still have enough gas for some June races.
But then I came across this on the Delaware Marathon website:
Cash awards of $1000; $500; $250 will be given to the top three overall male and female marathon winners. Cash awards of $200 and $100 will be given to the top two overall male and female marathon masters winners.
A $1000 bonus will be given to the overall male and/or female winner if the fastest marathon time ever run on Delaware soil is set. The fastest marathon times ever run in Delaware are 2:25:12, by Michael Wardian of Arlington, Virginia, set at our 2011 Delaware Marathon™ and 2:59:24 by Feng Sun of Columbia, MD, who set the female record at our 2006 Delaware Marathon™.
Holy cow. Three thousand bucks for running under 2:59?? I hadn’t run a sub-three hr marathon since Charlottesville in 2011, my hamstring was still bugging me, I had an exhausting work trip to Iowa planned the week before the race where I was organizing a workshop on phylogenetic analysis. But I had to give it a shot.
lots of tapering with Tavis and Cecile in Iowa
For those of you wondering why anyone would organize a workshop on phylogenetic analysis in Ames, Iowa, allow me to explain. For several years now I have been collaborating with researchers at the National Animal Disease Center at the USDA in Iowa who study influenza in swine. Since the 2009 swine-origin influenza pandemic, the USDA has received a lot more funding to sequence the genomes of influenza viruses collected from US swine for analysis. Hence, the purpose of this workshop was to train scientists at the USDA (and other special invited guests, including two very charming ladies from Brazil) how to analyze this molecular data. And that’s where I come in, along with my friend at USDA Tavis and my Fogarty colleague Cecile.
One morning I went on a run on what was called a ‘nature trail’ only to find life-sized plastic animals popping out. I soon realized that each animal was strategically placed before a backboard that was full of bullet holes. Oh, that kind of nature trail. On our first night Cecile and I tried to walk from our hotel to the downtown of Ames (exactly 4 blocks of Main Street) and found ourselves marching through industrial waste sites, walking along train tracks (and across train bridges, in keeping with the Stand By Me theme), and through a cemetery, which was refreshingly civilized compared to the toxic waste sites. After that adventure, we let our new friends Doug and Andres chauffeur us around.
Fortunately for Ames, I am easily impressed
aaron sported his new iowa schwag at josh ritter
Aaron picked me up at the airport and we scurried off to see Josh Ritter at the 9:30 club. From listening to Josh Ritter’s plaintive songs you would never expect him to be so giddy on stage. I was ready to keel over from too many days of teaching people who to get Bayesian programs running on their PCs (I’m a Mac girl), but I couldn’t quit on Mr Ritter’s enthusiasm and I hung in there til the end.
The next morning we ran the Race for the Cure 5k with our moms. Aaron’s mom Rosemary won her age group, a mighty comeback after fracturing her pelvis skiing in Colorado in January. My mom won the windmill category, and proudly sported her pink survivor shirt. We met up with the dads and treated the moms to brunch at the Hamilton.
After brunch we scurried up rt 95 to Wilmington for packet pick-up and checked into the Fairview Hotel. Inauspiciously, the hotel check-in clerk sat behind bullet-proof glass and there was a sign saying that if you wanted a refund on your room you had to declare it within ten minutes of checking in. There were lots of people loitering in the parking lot. A review Aaron read had complained that someone had been shot the night they stayed. Welcome to Wilmington! Fortunately, Boots had given us a good recommendation to eat at BBC Brewery, so we shot over to the ritzier part of town before collapsing for the night at the Fairview. We watched some quality television, including Top 10 NFL Divas (my favorite by far was Joe Namath, coming it under-ranked at #6), and conked out before 10. I was quickly stirred by the deep beat of a nearby all-night dance party, which kept me awake until 3am, and I woke up at 5:30am having slept so little that I wasn’t even drowsy, just fried.
We made it over to the marathon with plenty of time to spare, a great relief after our Baltimore start fiasco. I had been assigned an elite number and entrance to an elite tent, which was supposed to have a masseuse and water and gatorade and various amenities. In actuality, the elite tent had nothing but folding chairs and bored runners. The weather was perfect, cold at the start. While I waited for Aaron to finish pooping I was shivering so much that a lady I didn’t know came up and hugged me. ‘I couldn’t help it, you were covered in goose bumps. And it’s Mother’s Day after all.’ At the starting line we ran into VHTRC friends Steve Core and Karsten Brown — the race had a small-town friendly feel.
Here’s a run-down of my race:
Mile 1: Aaron lets me go ahead. I let two female runners go ahead, positioning myself into 3rd. Aaron catches me around mile 2 and we run together for a while.
Mile 3: I discover that I have to pee really bad. I knew that prize money went three deep, so I really didn’t want to stop to pee and lose my place. So I told Aaron that I was going to perform one of my extra special tricks: I closed my eyes, relaxed, and peed without breaking stride. It took several repetitions to let it all out, but that was so much better than running for the next three hours on a full bladder.
Mile 4: We start to catch relay runners. There were only 750 registered for the marathon, but there were another couple thousand signed up for the half marathon and the marathon relay, so there was a healthy density of runners on the course and a wide array of signs directing different running groups in different directions. The many volunteers at key intersections did a fabulous job of keeping all the various groups of runners on their respective courses.
Mile 5: We leave the Wilmington downtown and have a lovely stretch through a park along a creek, which reminded me a bit of Rock Creek and made me very happy (particularly the family of baby geese). Although it was cool, the sun was hot, and the canopy of trees was greatly appreciated.
Mile 6: I thought Delaware was pancake flat, but this race somehow managed to find the state’s one hill and make us run it twice (it was a 2-loop course). I know this ~150 foot hill is peanuts for trail runners, but for roadrunners it was substantial.
Mile 8: Aaron and I part for a bit, Aaron letting me push on ahead. Volunteer yells at him to ‘not let that girl beat you!’
Mile 9: I pass the woman ahead and move into second place, where I remain the rest of the race.
Mile 12: I almost get hit by a car speeding across the intersection as I complete the first loop (Karsten was with me and can attest).
Mile 13: I go through the half in just under 1:27, which seems pretty reasonable to me. My goal is to run under three.
Mile 14: My hamstring relaxes, but something in my stomach appears to be off. I feel like I have to take a poop. I won’t go into the gory details (I already traumatized you enough with my pee story), but I had signs of internal bleeding and all was not quite right down there. It didn’t bother me terribly, and I felt pretty darn good the whole race, but it was a good five hours after the race before I could keep anything from running straight through me. Thank god it was only 26 miles or that race would have turned for the worst.
Mile 25: With the lead woman out of sight (she finished in 2:52 and apparently can run much faster) and ahead of the third place woman by miles (she finished in 3:11), I had little incentive to push the last miles. I’ve had so many miserable finishes to marathons that I consider it a key part of my development to learn that I can finish a marathon without entertaining thoughts like ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if I got run over by a bus right now’ or ‘When this race is done I’m going to sit in a wheel chair and pretend I can’t walk and never get up…for the rest of my life’ or most commonly ‘This is the last race I am ever going to run, for real’. But Aaron caught up to me with one mile to go and made me fly home with him. Okay, we most definitely weren’t flying, we might have been going sub-7, but I squeezed some of the last juice out of my calves.
Mile 26.2: I was happy with 2:56, just behind Karsten. I hadn’t run a sub-3 marathon since Charlottesville over two years ago, which was the last marathon I really raced (because of Boston’s heat and Baltimore’s logistics those marathons weren’t really true races). Although I didn’t win and get the big pot, I was happy with $500 for second.
I wanted to hang out at the finish and see Steve Core finish, but I kept pooping blood and my stomach hurt bad, so we headed back to our hotel and hit the road. When we got home we watched movies and TV all afternoon and evening. My stomach was fine and we had Thai food. We watched Django Unchained. I liked the KKK scene with Jonah Hill. I slept so hard.
Name: Martha Nelson
Bib #: 14
Gun Time: 2:56:43.2 ( 6:45/mile)
Chip Time: 2:56:41.2
5 Mile Split: 33:41.9
Half Split: 1:26:56.3
18 Mile Split: 1:59:36.6
Overall Place: 11/599
Age Group Place: 2/36 (Female 30 to 34)
