Author: martha

Me:  Man, I can’t believe Ray made us add on that extra 800m repeat at the end.  I had just downed all my water.

Matt Woods: Yeah, you have to Beware of the Bear.

Me:  The what??

Matt: The Bear.  Whenever you’re running you have to make sure that you have that last bit of energy in reserve to escape the possible bear that could come out of the woods.

Me: So that’s what we were doing that last 800?  Running away from a bear?

Matt: Exactly.

 

I don’t know why I had to blog about this particular Matt Woods-ism, as this is only just one of the many oddly hilarious things that come out of Matt’s mouth over the course of Tuesday morning track workouts with the PR group at Washington & Lee high school in Arlington.  Whether it’s Matt rolling his itty bitty running shorts up to decrease Resistance or admitting that people call him ‘Peter Pan’ because he has no chest hair, Matt is a source of steady entertainment — and we all know that the only reason I run is so I can be entertained.  Keep up the good work, Woodsie.  And everyone remember to Beware of the Bear.

Jack Andrish

May 15, 2011

When did it happen?

Well, it has been four years since my last race report; five years since I finished all but the last 3 miles of “Massanutten;” and seven years since my last “official” 100-mile finish.  Perhaps it is time for another report.  I used to enjoy the recall of another 100-mile attempt by putting pen to paper with emotions laid bare.  I enjoyed sharing the experience.  But then as my DNF’s mounted and my performances became more lame, I lost the thrill of the recall and became somewhat embarrassed to share my experience.  Why did it happen?

Ultra running and especially trails ultras continue to capture me.  The opportunity for the shared participations of the runners, the crews and the pacers with events that push the limits of human endurance, is mystical.  The opportunities to unite families in such a special way is precious.  No wonder this dance is so difficult to forfeit.  But is there a need to release from the dream?

The year 2006 was pivotal for me.  I was prepared for MMT and for most of it I was having the best 100 miler of my life.  But then the “wheels came off” so they say and the last 20 miles were a struggle.  Yes, my back gave out and I was a rumpled mess coming in to Elizabeth Furnace.  I dropped with only 3 miles to go.  I had known that I had a “slight” scoliosis, but I had no idea just how bad it had progressed in recent years.  I got home and had an x-ray which (as a scoliosis surgeon myself) frankly scared me.  It scared me not so much for the possibilities of progressive deformity and maybe surgery, but for the thought that this might be the thing that would stop me from participating in those mystical experiences I had come to love.  Yes, I was panicked and proceeded to work through any number of back braces that might allow me to continue to run.  And I finally did find one; not the expensive spinal orthotics I tried from our orthotics section of the Cleveland Clinic, but a $12 elastic back support I found on sale (for $8) at the feed store I use for my barn animals.  It took a bit of getting used to because it squeezes the abdomen so much that diaphragmatic breathing is all but nil.  On the other hand, It helped to keep my ribs off of my pelvis and somewhat stabilized my core.  So “deal with it” and move on!

I then entered into a three-year cycle of attempting to complete the Leadville 100.  The Leadville area is special to my family because of its proximity to the 10^th Mountain Hut and Trail System we have used every year for the past 20 years for our backcountry skiing adventures.  But I could never get beyond the turnaround at 50 miles.  And then I also noticed after attending one of the LT 100 Training Camps, that even with fresh legs, I was barely making the projected time cutoffs.  Oh, it must be the altitude!  But then, for my last attempt at Leadville I decided to train at home by wearing 20 pounds of weights around my ankles and doing hill repeats.  Oh yes, that would do it; wrong!  That only made my right knee swell like a bowling ball with pain that made it difficult to walk well, less say run.  Interesting,  “must be a bursa.” (Ignorance and Denial)

Then came 2009.  I had made the Western States Lottery and had a great “game plan” for my training.  The first “training” race on my agenda was the Old Pueblo 50 miler.  The weekend before the race I went for an “easy” 11 miler but when I got home my right knee was swelling like a balloon and very painful.  I tried to run the next day, but could barely walk.  Panicked, I got an MRI on Monday; found torn meniscus; had surgery on Thursday (found torn meniscus, and arthritis); and spent the next 14 months painfully limping threw a series of unloader braces and miserable race attempts.  And then, one year ago, a physical therapist friend of mine from Australia (Jenny McConnell) taught me a method of taping for “synovial fat pad impingement” and by some miracle, no pain!  I could run without a knee brace.  I could run!  (Oh yes, I still need the back brace.  I’m afraid I’m stuck with that one.)  And so the dream survives!  Bring on Massanutten and those last three miles!

What a great spring this has been with the anticipation of MMT.  Yes, training in Cleveland is problematic, but taking two weekends to visit Sean in Leesburg and training on parts of the MMT course was great.  There was just one small wrinkle to my visits to Massanutten.  Even with fresh legs, my times on parts of the course were just on the bubble of projected cutoff times for MMT; visions of Leadville!  But the thrill of being a participant was once again precious.  Certainly a year ago I had doubts of even running at all without pain and brace.  So this is truly a gift I have received and I understand that.  To be there at all is a gift.  I did not publicize my 2011 intentions to my friends.  I was going to run MMT and finish and then share the experience.  But this year my performance reflected my “diminishing skills.”  Despite the support from Sue Ellen and the anticipation of Sean being my pacer, my times at each aid station were just “on the bubble.”  I had no cushion at all.  I was running and I was thrilled to be intimidated by “all those rocks!”  But I could only muster bubbles.  The climb out of Elizabeth Furnace did me in.  I was not at all metabolically nor physically trashed; just not enough stamina to climb at the necessary pace to keep me legal.  I missed my time cutoff at Shawl Gap (mile 37.6).  I had to turn in my number and go home.

So what is the message?  As I ran in to my final aid station, the captain congratulated me for making it this far and then told me “Jack, there are easier hundreds out there.”  Yes, others have been telling me that as well.  “There are easier hundreds out there.”  But we know it is not just about the miles!  It is not just about running 100 miles.  It is about overcoming fears and obstacles and achieving our dreams.  It is about the dreams!  As I sit here in a coffee house in Leesburg, there are still runners chasing that dream.  There are still runners crossing that final grassy meadow to the finish line of the MMT 100.  There are still runners.  I should be there with them.  I should.  I still have two legs and a heart at least at this point that can withstand the effort; the effort to train and to finish.  Age is relative and I’m not about to use that excuse.  Not yet.  Yes, there are other 100’s out there.  And there are 50 milers and 50 K’s that are special opportunities to share.  There are!  But then again, there is the mountain.

 

 

When will it happen?

Next May — if you ask me today,

In a couple years — if you ask me tomorrow,

Never — if you ask me right after finishing an MMT training run (no way in bloody hell I’m gonna do that run x 4!),

Definitely Next May — if you ask me after reading Jack Andrish’s When did it happen?

 

So, the way I see it:

Karl Meltzer winning MMT: Not a surprise.

Neal Gorman finishing a solid 2nd: Not a suprise.

Eva Pastalkova breaking the record: Bloody impressive, but knowing Eva not really a surprise — I mean, we all knew what she could do with a pack free of canines.

Now….

Martha Nelson doing stuff at aid stations besides passing out in the runners’ chairs and generally getting in the way (photographic evidence forthcoming): A lot of people are gonna lose $$ on that one.

 

 

May 11, 2011 – The Fogarty Ultra Continent (FUCers II, definitely not to be confused with the Frisco Ultra Contingent (FUCers I), which, as far as we know, has never completed the formidable 2.8 mile loop around the National Institutes of Health (NIH) in Bethesda, MD) had a strong showing at the 4th Annual NIH Take a Hike Day, taking home the 3rd place trophy for participation by a ‘small’ NIH Institute/Center (IC).

But FUCer success did not come easy: it was a long, grueling road of preparation.  Following the NIH Health’s Angels Running Club’s Halo Chase 5k on April 22nd, we knew we had our work cut out for ourselves.  Tany had a particularly rough day, getting beat by a guy with one leg and on crutches, and then requiring 4 rabies shots for her wildlife encounter with a baby raccoon.

The Neal Gorman workout plan outlined in Runner’s World seemed like the sure-fire way to bring the FUCers up to speed.  But Martha had another idea for a training plan…..

Indeed, the Puerto Rican waters proved to be excellent training grounds for the 4-chick subset of the FUCers II known as the Puerto-rican Ultra Society (PUSsies).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For some altitude and hills, we found excellent training grounds in El Yunque rainforest, where our Ranger guide Cynthia whipped the PUSsies into shape.  However, Cynthia’s propensity to investigate every pile of leaf litter for snails and anoles resulted in what was billed as a 1km nature trail taking the PUSsies 2 hours to complete.  Although we learned an awful lot about rainforest ecology and even saved an anole from a twig collar it had been fatally ensnared in, I’m afraid a 0.5 km/hr pace posed a bit of a training setback.

The other minor set-back occurred while I was running on the road that led to the network of beautiful trails overlooking the Atlantic Ocean on one side and Caribbean Sea on the other.  A woman pulled over in her car, rolled down her window, and started shrieking at me ‘Muy Peligroso!’  and insisting that I get in the car with her.  It was a narrow twisty road with little shoulder, so I figured she was objecting to the dangers of my getting hit, but she explained to me that there was a ‘crazy man’ lurking about.  It was broad daylight, I wasn’t wearing headphones, I was running at a good clip — all the criteria for what I consider safe solo running. I had no idea what ‘crazy man’ meant — could be anything from the town drunk to a serial rapist/murderer — but I realized I would mope for the rest of the trip if I didn’t return to the trails.  So the next morning I tucked my hair into a ball cap and wore a men’s size large shirt Sean had given me, and convinced that I could possibly be mistaken for Matt Woods from afar, I put on my ‘don’t fuck with me — I’m far more trouble than I’m worth’ face and headed out, playing a nerve-wracking game of Lizard or Crazy Man? with every rustle from the brush.  I was left with this overwhelming indignation that Being A Female Runner Sucks, that it’s so terribly unfair that I can’t run or hike or travel freely, and was having fantasies about cutting off all my hair and buying a rifle.  But just as I started to get really fired up about it, the bartender made me another Don Q and all was well.

 

‘Man, it’s going to be hard for the Beer Mile to live up to the Donut Run, that was so great,’ Mr Andrish mused.

‘Are you kidding?’ I replied with the eye roll Sean’s seen a million times.  ‘The Donut Run was just warm up.  Child’s play.  The Beer Run will be epic.  You’ll see.’

After 12 successful Martha Miles at Penn State (4 per year for 3 years), I effectively retired the show when I moved to DC.  1) I had never actually organized a Beer Mile, I had simply announced when and where and left it to detail-oriented friends to administer, 2) I thought our chances of getting arrested in the District were excellent, and 3) I honestly wasn’t convinced the WUSsies would bite, at least not the Old Guard.

But the WUS group has been morphing steadily over the last year, with lots of fresh new faces, mainly thanks to Jon L-D’s gang (Robin, Adam, and Anna) and Keith’s recruiting from the Arlington track (Sean B, Ryon via Nancy….at least Keith is getting something out of those workouts….), and in this changing of the guard I discerned glimmers of Beer Mile potential.

A little more than a month ago, while pacing around the track with Doug and Joe, the mighty Cathedral luminescing against a black sky, I had a vision.  The clouds murmured, the church bells rang, the Beer Mile spirits grumbled, and I realized that I, the girl who doesn’t drink much beer and is about as organizationally inclined as a four year-old, must lead the WUSsies into the land of Carbonated Competition.  Without a second’s delay I announced to Joe and Doug that a Beer Mile would be held on this very track on Thursday, April 28, 2011, the day of my 30th birthday.  I would run it on my own if I had to.

Just how would I lure to the Beer Mile these reluctant WUSsies, whose hair I had to pull just to go to CPBG for Tuesday beer and pizza?  I needed a Poster Boy, someone with élan, charisma, whose name carried respectability and stature and whose endorsement would drive the WUSsies to the track in deferential droves.  Neal seemed more interested in lending his brand to the Donut Run than the Beer Mile, but no matter, that was all part of the plan: lure them all in with donuts and then stick ‘em the next week with beer.  Oh, and make it a Race Series – as evidenced by the Beast, WUSsies cannot resist the draw of the Last Man Standing kind of multi-event competitions.

Well folks, the Inaugural Beer Mile sure shook up the bookies — Mario didn’t puke, the CoverBoy was upended, Justine was even beat by my dad, and the Dark Horse Bobby Gill slipped in under the Aaron radar to claim the surprise victory.  Of course I won the women’s, but that is the only known quantity going into any Beer Mile.  There was some chatter about beers for breakfast and disciples of the sensei, but we all knew that was all a lot of hot air.

Due to my impaired organizational skills (as alluded to earlier), it will take some conferring between myself, our timekeeper boy Vishal, and Bobby Gill’s camcorder to post official results.  We know that Bobby won in a mighty 6:57, Neal shortly after in 7:07, and Sean B in third in 7:48, even after having eaten dinner already (rookie error).  I took the women’s race in ~8:45, just behind Adam in 4^th (8:40), with Kirstin in second (13:09) and Robin in third, even after her penalty lap (college was a long time ago, wasn’t it, Ms Morrison?).  After much hype about Joe and Michele’s drinking prowess, Michele Harmon finished a glorious last place, and while Joe Clapper insists he beat me, we have a $100 bet riding on the video replay that will show that I actually lapped him (sorry Joe, you probably thought I’d be too drunk to recall that conversation, but there is a whole section of my brain reserved for when there is money on the table).

Overall Results                                                               Women

1. Bobby Gill, 6:57                                                                  1. Martha Nelson, 8:45

2. Neal Gorman, 7:07                                                           2. Kirstin Corris, 13:09

3. Sean Burn, 7:58                                                                3. Robin Blendell

4. Adam Watkins, 8:40

5. Martha Nelson, 8:45

6. Ryon Lane, 8:57

For prizes the victors received limited edition Martha Mile shirts (Layer 1) and Georgetown cupcakes.  As always, there were not enough prizes to go around, and there were certainly some individuals (like our beer provider Colin) who clearly deserved something more – but I learned well from the Donut Run that when the prizes run out I need to stop talking.  Oh, and I received some special birthday prizes too (sorry, I was way too drunk and giggly to explain the story behind the Playgirl – you’ll have to ask me, Keith, Sean, or Brian on a run some day  what catnip mice have to do with dirty magazines).

After the run we had a lovely stroll around the Cathedral to Cactus Cantina, where we had far too many pitchers of margaritas and said way too many embarrassing things in front of my poor parents (fortunately I’m convinced that their comprehension fades below a certain level of crudeness – but remind me to next time get chicken or some dish less conducive to teenage boy humor than fish tacos).

 

Well, WUSsies, that’s a wrap.  Time to start training for next year.  Don’t be surprised if Neal’s next magazine story includes tips for incorporating foamy beverages into one-legged squats.  And maybe we can convince Joe & Michele to offer beer at the Visitor Center aid station at MMT — oh wait, I think they did last year, only some a-wipe volunteer drank it all.  And Ladies, Ladies, we are going to have some training runs this summer, nice little 4-5 milers with a beer every mile….everybody’s gotta learn to burp.

Participants

Finishers: Doug Sullivan, Bobby Gill, Neal Gorman, Colin Campbell, Kirstin Corris, Justine Morrison, Jon Loewus-Deitch, Mario Raymond, Ryon Lane, Michele Harmon, Joe Clapper, Adam Watkins, Robin Blendell, Bob Nelson, Fred Nelson, Hans Nichols, Sean Burn, Mike Dorsey, Martha Nelson

I’m Your Mom and I’m Only Drinking 1 Beer: Jill Nelson

DNF: Brian Greeley, Anna Griffis

Volunteers: Aaron Schwartzbard, Vishal Sahni, Keith Knipling, Margaret Campbell, Sean Andrish, Tom Corris, Marko Rajkovic, Gaby Duran-Gorman, Bella Lane, David Kirk

At least made margaritas: Kerry Owens

 

More pictures available from Aaron, Kirstin, and Doug.