Wussies

 

 

St. Paul Urban Trail Marathon (26.2 mi)

August 24, 2013

St. Paul, MN

I almost didn’t run the St. Paul Urban Trail Marathon because Aaron and I nearly cancelled our whole August trip to Minnesota.  I had been coaxed to time a work trip to visit the University of Minnesota to coincide with the Minnesota State Fair, purportedly the largest state fair in the United States.  I’ve been studying influenza virus dynamics at the human-swine interface for several years now, so seeing the hog area at the state fair would round out my understanding of human-pig interactions in an ag fair setting.  Oh, and the fair was rumored to host a smorgasbord of delights like donut beer and fried cheese curds.  When we discovered that the St. Paul Urban Trail Marathon (60% dirt/grass trail, 30% bike trail, 10% road) also coincided with the planned visit, well hell’s bell’s, we planned us a pig-marathon weekend!

 

But in addition to getting Lyme disease, Aaron’s company ActivTrax has been going through some big transitions and the timing of a major office move unfortunately coincided with our planned Minnesota trip.  Part of the motivation for the trip was for Aaron to visit Minneapolis for the first time, as I have been seriously considering taking a faculty position at the University of Minnesota at the College of Veterinary Medicine.

So we almost cancelled the trip entirely.  But then my old friend Sarah Wright came on board.  Sarah and I met in 4th grade and spent our childhoods playing on all our crazy sports teams together: we played soccer together on the Potomac Red Devils, we were Rec league 7th grade basketball champions (Sarah’s dad was our famously old-school high school basketball coach), we played B-CC High School field hockey together (after freshman field hockey I went on to be a long distance runner; Sarah stayed on to be multi-time Maryland State Champion and captain of the Duke field hockey team), and we did Rec Club ski middle school ski trips together to Wisp, Seven Springs, and Greek Peek.

After college Sarah and I decided to be adventurous and backpack around South-east Asia together for a couple months.  Needless to say, Sarah has many stories about me.  Sarah, myself, and our other high school friend Rosie typically get together every year for a Girls Weekend (see previous Summerfest post).  But Rosie just had a baby and no weekend had been planned for 2013.  So when Sarah said she was interested in driving from her home in Milwaukee to run the St. Paul trail race with me (the 10k version), I ditched Aaron in DC and jetted on over to meet her in Minneapolis.

 

The race had 500 people spread across the 10k, half-marathon, and marathon distances.  It was a bit tricky to pace because everyone started together, no elevation profile for the course was provided, and the first half was faster bike trail and road and easily tempted you into going too fast before the much hillier second half in Battle Creek Park (although with no elevation profile, you had no idea it would be so hilly).  They moved the race start up an hour because of the heat advisory.  This was only a heat advisory by Minnesota standards: it was in the 70s at the start and crept into the 80s and sunny by mid-day.  But I’m DC heat-trained thanks to Catherines, and I was able to run away with the race in the second half, finishing first overall in 3:07.  I felt very comfortable, relaxed, and there was great camaraderie on the trail from the heaps of exceedingly friendly Minnesotan volunteers, who were particularly excited about a female leading the whole race.  I’m so connected to DC and the running community here and the prospect of moving to Minnesota is so daunting, it meant a lot to  feel welcome and at home in a new city.  Although I need to teach them that the term is ‘chicked’, not ‘girled’.

 

Despite not really training, Sarah cruised to a sub-1 hour 10k and enjoyed her race as well.  Afterwards we met my friend Doug from UMN and his boyfriend Jason and went to The Strip Club for an awesome post-race steak tartar and eggs, followed by ice cream at Izzy’s.  Doug was even kind enough to let me wash my really stinky clothes in his washer rather than let them decay in my hotel room for the next couple days.  Saint Douglas.

Sarah and I took big naps, and then rallied Saturday evening to meet my friend Andres to enjoy another Minneapolis summer tradition: drinking on rooftop bars.  Even though I’m scared shitless by the Minnesota winter, I am really pleased with the culture of the city — laid back, artsy, good food and drink, people who seem to know how to enjoy simple pleasures in life.

Sunday morning Sarah and I woke up bright and early to beat the crowds to the Minnesota State Fair ‘Miracle of Birth’ barn, where we saw two little lambs and three little piglets born right before our eyes.

 

There was lots of crazy food to eat (Marie raved about the donut beer) and competitions to watch (including butter-sculpting), but the thrill of the newborns was by far the highlight of the fair for us.  Just as we were leaving, we ran into the friends we had met at the barn in their full regalia: the Budweiser Clydesdales.

So, wait, why is this blog called ‘Sisu’??  If you notice on the St. Paul Urban Trail Marathon website, the header says Go Sisu.  Minnesota, as you may know, is a mecca for Scandinavians.  I have memories of my Finnish grandmother telling me that I had ‘sisu’ as a child, which is Finnish for something along the lines of ‘strength’ or ‘guts’.  Finns are very proud of their steely reputation for jumping into frozen lakes and holding off the Soviets single-handed during the Winter War.  There is a picture on my wall of my grandmother holding a sign for me along the course of the 2006 Boston Marathon that says ‘Martha Has Sisu.’  A part of me that feels like going to Minnesota is returning to my Scandinavian roots, to the land of Sisu.

 

 

 

 

 

I decided to start a list:

 

Trail races I have done

And would love to do again some time:  Women’s Half Marathon, Promise Land 50k, Highland Sky 40M, Laurel Highlands 50k/70M, Laugavegur 55k (Iceland), Escarpment Trail Run

 And were pleasant enough to do again: Dam Half, Fire on the Mountain 50k, Holiday Lake 50k, Swinging Bridge, All the VHTRC fat asses

 

Trail races I have not done

 And would very much like to do (within the next 5 years): Bull Run 50M, Where’s Waldo 100k, White River 50M, Megatransect (doing in Sept)

 And would very much like to do (within the next 10 years): MMT, Zane Grey 50M, Wasatch, Miwok 100k

And have minor interest in: Grindstone 100, Mountain Masochist 50, North Face, The Ring, Western States 100

And will never do: JFK 50

And belong in a category of its own: Hellgate 100k

‘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.

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.

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.

 

Highland Sky 40

Canaan Valley, WV

June 15, 2013

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.

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’.

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.

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).

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.

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.

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.