Well that escalated quickly

So when I last posted I did a recap of my first ultra and said how I had really lost my mojo for running.  So I decided on that day, June 30, 2020, that I would finally go for my first ever 300 mile month and further make the requirement that I run 10 miles minimum every day.  I'm not one of those who is good at "starting my new diet on Monday" so to speak so I ran ten miles that day.  I continued on throughout the month of July, logging 334 miles that month.  I continued to run at least ten a day through the 9th of August and then my body said I needed a break so I went back to my more normal mileage.  But I learned, yet again, that high(ish) mileage is so much more of a mind thing than a body thing.  

Now for the title...what escalated quickly you ask?  

At the end of last year I told myself that I was running my first 100 this year.  And then they kept getting cancelled.  While virtual races might do it for some people, they just aren't for me, plus none of my canceled races went virtual, they just gave you entry into next year.  I still had my chance at a 100 miler in Iowa in October but I started getting worried that it would be cancelled also.  I found a race that I was pretty sure wouldn't be cancelled and signed up.  For a 48 hours.  In Oklahoma.  In early September.  Predicted temps of upper 80's to mid 90's.  And humidity.  And I've never done a race in the heat.  What could go wrong?  I'm three weeks out from that now and about 8 weeks out from the 100 miler in Iowa.  I also have the 24 hour in KS in November.  Regardless, I'm hoping to cover 100 miles in the 48 hour and definitely get my first 100 miler in this year.  

Oh also when I registered for the Potawatomi run next year, which was cancelled from this year, I signed up for the 150 instead of the 100.  Because what could go wrong?   I feel like that is becoming a theme.  

So mileage will stay around 60 a week through the next two weeks and then have a taper week headed into the 48 hour.  So far it's looking like the race might be held, with restrictions.  Fingers crossed.  

Goals?

Don't die

Keep moving

100 miles

My A goal if everything goes perfect is 150 miles but I've never run more than 65 or so, so I'm sure that is ludicrous.  But this whole thing is ludicrous so why not dream big, right?  What could go wrong?  

And so it began...Prairie Spirit Trail 50 miler...March 2019

My first ultra was my first race in over ten years.  It was also my first race longer than 5K.  And I was never any good at the 5K's to tell the truth.  I would love to tell you I had some deep reason for trying an ultra but I would be lying.  I started running, kept running, and realized over time that while my paces were super slow, they were consistently super slow.  My pace for a 5 miler was the same as my pace for a 15 miler or a 20 miler.  So I decided that if I ran a super long race, maybe I could finish it and not be a laughing stock. 

So I chose PST 50 miler as my first.  It was late March and in Kansas.  I assumed the weather would be okayish.  I picked a motel out near the start finish.  This was an out and back run on a flat rail trail.  I assumed that would work fine.  I did a lot of assuming. 

The race day weather was not okayish.  I mean I guess it was for those people that knew what the heck they were doing.  I believe the course records in all distances fell that day.  But I had been a wimp and run on the treadmill when it was cold so I didn't have clue how to dress for a day out in this weather.  It rained.  It snowed.  It sleeted.  The winds were over 25 mph.  And those weren't the gusts. 

So I talked myself out of my first panic attack of the day and moved on.  I put on all of my clothes.  I get my numbers pinned on and we head for the start line.  Thankfully we got to sit inside a warm building until the start. 

So I sat there feeling like a complete fraud and completely unprepared.  We gathered at the start line and it started to snow.  We were all looking at each other, just waiting for someone to say "what the heck" but none of us did.  Then they told us to start so I did.  I ran the first 10 miles at an okay pace.  There were lots of people that were walking and running and when they would run they would pass me and then I would pass then when they were walking.  This was my first introduction into that form of pacing and I noticed as time went on that those who did the run/walk looked less like death than the rest of us back of the packers. 

About 12 miles in I stepped on a rock wrong and twisted my ankle.  At the time I convinced myself that I could not run anymore but over time, as I've done a few more races, I realize I could of.  I was giving myself an out to just plod along at a walking pace because my ankle hurt and it was my first ultra. 

So I ran a bit more but mostly walked.  I got to the halfway point and there was a train I had to wait on.  I talked to another guy while we waited for the train to pass and I thought we were doing okay and he thought we were pitiful wretches.  I mean we were but we were moving.  

The rest of the day was a blur.  I ran.  I had a pacer for one six mile section but by then I was just walking and I felt horrible that she was cold and I was so behind when I thought I would meet her (sorry Dana).  That was when I decided I would never have another pacer.  I enjoyed talking to her and she really lifted my spirits but the whole time I also just felt horrible for not running with her.  I should have just made myself run but at that point in my story I didn't realize I could make myself do hard things yet. 

Anywho, I walked and walked and walked and walked and even caught a few other lost souls.  I peed in the woods off the trail and my headlamp died while doing so.  That was fun.  My achilles ached horribly from the flat course and my upper back was so sore also.  I didn't drink enough and got so dehydrated that at the final aid station they said I was speaking Romulan.  I didn't eat enough.

I finally hobbled across the finish line after 14 1/2 hours.  I wasn't last but I was close to it.  But I hadn't quit and I got my belt buckle. 

I learned so much in that first ultra.  It took me about a week to walk normally but I kept running daily and kept my run streak alive.  I digested my lessons and beat myself up about my slow pace and refusal to run when I really probably could have and definitely should have.  And before I knew it, I had signed up for a 100K. 

Ultrarunning during Covid

Cancelled.

Rescheduled then cancelled. 

Cancelled. 

So goes the course of my spring races.  I don't sign up for summer races because I'm a wimp and don't do heat well. 

I wish I could say I had been vigorously training but work has been insane (they actually cut our pay while everyone else was getting essential worker bonuses).  Go us.  I guess.  And my knee has been wonky and randomly swelling.  Which are just two excuses for me being lazy and unmotivated.  Gotta get back in the saddle.  My run streak is alive and well at over 900 days so I'm running daily, just not enough to prepare for what lies ahead (eventually). 

My first 100 miler was supposed to be Potawatomi.  It has 16000 feet of gain (which just means we get to walk a lot), and about 100 creek crossings (exaggerated...perhaps).  It got cancelled fairly early and rescheduled to next year.  Then my last man standing race got pushed from May 1 to May 30 to now August 1st but I can't imagine it being run with the increase in cases.

So now the schedule looks like:
August 1st...last man standing (maybe)
mid October...Mines of Spain 100.  It's a 20 mile looped course with 14000 feet hills. 
Mid November...KUS 24 hour 

I'm hoping Covid goes away.  I'm hoping my knee gets better.  I'm hoping my mojo returns.  I need a massive goal for July but July is in 2 days and as of yet all I can come up with is seeing if I can consume 2 pounds of chocolate a day. 

Midlife crisis

I haven't checked in here in six years.  Six years.  So what happens to a surrogate that retires in six years?  Well for me, the kids all grew up.  They moved out.  The first six months I swear I just slept and read books.  We took some nice vacations.  We still went to work every day and did normal stuff but I feel like the first six months were truly just recovering from raising kids for over 20 years.  Then the inevitable "what's next" came up.  I recognized the question because I faced it when I retired from surrogacy.  So what was next? 

I have been a jogger (plodder) for years now.  I would jog some and then not do it again for a month and then go for a jog again.  For some unknown reason, on 12/29/2017 I went for a run and decided to do it daily.  Today, 3/10/20, I'm over 800 days into a run streak.  I started and just haven't ever stopped.  Meanwhile my husband had a mini-stroke and we went plant based in our eating (mostly...we cheat some) and he joined me on my run streak, his first day being 3/24/2019. 

After about a year of running daily I decided I wanted to try a race.  Joe and I had been training for a half marathon when he had his mini-stroke but that didn't excite me.  I had done a 5K or two in the past and that didn't excite me either.  So I signed up for a 50 miler.  Because why not?  I did the 50 miler in March of 2019 and loved/hated every minute of it.  I signed up for a 100K that fall, followed 2 weeks later by a 24 hour race.  I loved/hated every minute of those too.  So I signed up for my first 100 miler.  It is in 3 weeks.  More to come on that later. 

I did a tune up run, a 12 hour race last weekend.  It was a blast.  In a stunning turn of events I won my age group (and I wasn't the only one in my age group).  I'm still slow and never will not be slow but I am learning how to hurt I think. 

So that's the update.  I plan to post here for myself, so I can talk about my ultras and training without boring those people in my life I love.