Insomnia Trail Run

The thing about trail running is you can always try again later. The Insomnia Trail Race 14k was my let's try again race after my recovery from surgery. 

The experience was the complete opposite to last month's race. This time me I picked familiar trails, made sure my blisters were all heal and I had all the right gear. Remembering the trail run rules, never wear anything that you have not used before and if possible get familiar with the race course terrain ahead of the race. I picked a night race at Folsom Lake and it was simply gougeous. 

The race started after sunset so we had the opportunity to admire the lake and the moon in red before. Taking off as the last rays of light hide in the horizon,  to make room for a red full mood that guard the trails. The lake front view, the gentle small singing waves that took you into the Cavitt trails and the gentle rolling hills kept a big smile on my face. The memory of past runs in the dark trails was still alive in me and greeted me like an old friend. I enjoyed scanning the ground with my head and hand held lamps which forces you to remain mindful and present in the moment. The miles flew by and soon I was at the turn around point where I was offered a shoot of spirit; I accepted and overstayed my welcome while the people at the aid station rushed me away urging me to turn on my lamps. My spirit was happy on Spirit I guess.  

I trailed back slowly wishing the distance was longer; Soon I told myself while I crossed the finishing line. 

Shout out to the Insomnia Trail Race people for an awesome event! 

Whiskey Hill Run 2019

Whiskey Hill Trail Run 2019

After recovering from a surgery and running minimally I was finally able to incorporate myself back to the lines off all those crazy trail runners that plague the hills all over the world chasing after the the dirt in single line in search of happiness through the primordial way of being human, movement. 

I picked the Whiskey Hill Run because why not. Testing my regained human abilities I ventured first into the treadmill, then into the parks and now finally back in the trails. With a knot in my belly the race director said the go and I slowly joined the pack. Rusty on my trail running ways I just figure I would give it a go. What was the worts thing that could happen, right?

Well, on my rusty memory I forgot to check on the elevation profile. It looked pretty flat on the screen and it was only six miles, piece of cake I told myself. Except I was greeted by a 1,200 feet of elevation gain that kept on going for to to three miles ok only to be followed by 3 more miles of downhill. Not what I expected at all!

 Since it was only going to be a 10k I didn't even bother in putting some thought into my gear and went with simple cotton socks. I regretted that about mile 2.5 when that characteristic persistent I think I have a pebble inside my shoe feeling popped out on both feet, let me revealed it to you. Sometimes it's no pebbles but blisters starting to tease you. By the downhill the throbbing pain of each step where I felt my skin sliding back made me wish I could go faster but my lack of enough hill training made my painfully humble. 

Lovely torture I had to smile to as my pride was at risk when I met my husband and mother in law at the trails on the last mile going downhill. Luckily I was flying that stretch and I almost looked effortless for a second, until I passed them. 

I reached the finishing line battered and in pain wondering why I was doing that to myself, what was the point of all that pain? A small boy who was handing the medals was so cute I could not avoid but to smile. It was as he represented through his age what this race was to me, a new start and an opportunity to learn all about trail running it all once more. 

Spirit of Rock 2013

Spirit of Rock 50 Miles

This race was my second 50 miller. I learned in my first 50 miller that the distance itself was conformable and although I had struggle I consider that this was mostly due to the race being a night race. So I decided to give a try to 50 miles during the day. 

I choose this race because I had previously pace a friend in part of the course under the formed name (Rock & River). I enjoyed the sound of the rain the night before but was please when I realized there was not going to be rain on race day. As expected my final time was close to the prior 50 miler I completed,11hrs and 29 minutes. But the route proof to be easier to complete with sunlight. 

My sister agree to be my crew and she drove me to Cool early in morning day. I slept over at her house in order to make the trip easier for her. I had to modify my ritualistic approach to getting ready for a race and slept at her guest room trying not to intrude much with my sister's family. We drove the 45 minutes that take to get from Cool to her house in good spirits and joking.

When we arrived at the race it was still dark. The race participants were already lined up at the starting line and I joined them while the race director joked and gave instructions for the race. The races organized by this group are small with a few aid stations and few volunteers assisting. Is not uncommon to reach a station that has only water and no volunteers. My preparation for this race had been a bit sloppy and unstructured but I made sure to get plenty of miles to be ready and as a result I was confident in finishing and was just looking forward to enjoying the trails.

We started enthusiastically and marched towards the trails in unison.Gradually the sun came out and runners started to spread out along the course according to their pace, unfolding like an irregular sound wave. The first 30 miles were easy. I did not feel like I rushed and focused in conserving my energy. I felt happy with the course, the familiarity with the trails that I love and enjoy allowed me to reach each mile focusing on my favorite spots, a tree, a group of rocks, the different microclimates and its seasonal vegetation. 

I did not feel like I struggle but until I reached mile 30. I took the wrong trail at Cavitt adding 3 miles to the course. I did not realized about it but until I reached the next aid station and I inquire about mileage. I was told that in between the last station and that station there was 5 miles. My body is used by now to estimate distances better than my brain does and my body said it had been 8 miles. I got a chance to verify the distance later on and my body was correct. In Trail running like in life sometimes when we are familiar with a path or a trail we become overconfident in our abilities therefore making mistakes. 

My pace started slowly to decline from that point forward. It took me longer that calculated to reach my pacer at Negro Bar which was mile 40.  He had to wait for me for 1 hour and a half. For this race they calculated the splits the old fashion way, by registering the bib number of each runner when they get to the aid stations. That allowed my pacer to keep track of were I was which was helpful for him.

I was starting to feel tired when I finally reach him. I was self conscious of my performance during the last 10 miles because my pacer was the Director of News at the local Spanish TV station, my brother in law best friend and if I bonk it would be an epic fail they would joke about for a while. Fortunately that did not happen and he turned out to be a good firm pacer and kept me on track allowing me to finish in the predicted time. He told me silly stories from his life from which I have not recollection what so ever but that kept me distracted. Every time I stopped to take a short walk break he would clap loudly a couple of times which caused me to start running again. He would get ahead of me and extend his hand as if offering assistance which cause me to speed up to reach him only to take off putting more distance between us which caused me to forget about my exhaustion and smile. 

When we reach the Nimbus hatchery we became disoriented and confused, there was no markings in the trail anymore and we didn't know what to do. We asked a couple of people for directions with no success. We decided to follow the paved trail since it made the most sense. It turned out to be the right route. The night cough us trying to reach the finishing line. Somehow the last miles of the race feel always as the longest ever. At the last two miles I was starting to become really annoyed about the poor light in the trail and about how lonely it was and a sense of urgency to finish cause me to speed up as much as the exhaustion allowed me. 

We reach the finishing line well after dark. My sister was waiting for us there and was starting to wonder what was taking us so long. In running like in life sometimes people don't realize about the tremendous amount of effort that it takes to go the distance so we have to be patience with their lack of understanding. My pacer was very happy at the end. It was the first time for him being part of a race and he seemed satisfied with the experience so was I for I notice after a while that my body although tired was still strong and standing. My sister thought I looked horrible at the end and she made sure to express how crazy she thought I was for being an endurance runner stating she would never again helped me in a race for she was not willing to participate in myself destructing behaviors, just words born out of love and concern I thought. She said that after she gave me a bouquet of flowers and hugged me proudly. I took her words for what they were because that is exactly the same thing I tell myself while running the last miles of a race, but then I find myself running again. Running has thought me that too, sometimes we speak out of fear but act out of love. 

Spirit of Rock taught me that 50 miles is a comfortable distance for my body. You get to put some miles in but not over stretch yourself if you know how to be patient and pace yourself. It taught me to that you don't have to follow religiously a training plan in order to feel ready. And if your goal is to enjoy the race the best thing you can do is be consistent with training, plan every training run as an experience to be enjoyed by itself, but don't stress if your are unable to stick to the training plan. You don't have to be perfect. You just have do back to back runs with incremental distances and believe in yourself.                   


 

 

On How Running is a Beautiful Thing

To reach a point in running where forced by the physical effort there is no more left than your essence and the deconstruction of ego and all barriers has happen takes time, a long time.... When it is reached the silence is almost unreal.

You see, running is not really about running. Running is a metaphor, often times misunderstood as running away from something but it is a metaphor with the opposite meaning. Running is a way to connect, a way to reach, conquer and grow. Running towards strength, light, peace, balance or the simple palpitation of a heart beat that say I exist therefore I AM. Running is a medium, as many other mediums to overcome the uncertainty of life, to connect to a greater power if only for just a bit of an instant in our existence. 

Rio del Lago 100 Miles 2014 Race Report

I didn’t run a 100 miles.

I could never do that.

I ran one mile a 100 times.

The idea of running a 100 mile race was born when I was little. The day when my father told his kids as a bedtime story the tale of a pioneer, Gordy Ainsleigh. He was the first person to run a 100 miles. At the time, he participated in the 24-hour Western States Trail Ride, which was a horse race. When his horse went lame prior to the race, Ainsleigh decided he would run the mountain trail from the Squaw Valley Ski Resort to Auburn, California, rather than look for another horse to ride. Ainsleigh completed the equestrian race by running in 23 hours and 42 minutes. This was the beginning of the modern sport of ultra-distance trail running.  My father had become a trail runner sometime after his divorce and retold this story as one of his favorites.

Although I started running when I was 14 yrs old the idea of distance was impressive and scary to me and running was more of coping skill than a passion. Running, as expressed by many runners, has a spiritual aspect to it that makes it very healing. By connecting you to nature and the core of the human spirit through pain and effort but above all to a higher power by hope. It could be described as an exercise of self-sacrifice. The long periods of time alone forces you too to confront your demons, resolve unfinished issues or simply process build up emotions. It wasn’t until moving to Sacramento and I realized that we were so close to so many beautiful trails, including Auburn, in all directions that I became so passionate about trail running. Becoming an ultrarunner was a very gradual process for me. Just as my father did I took into trail running right after my divorce.   

Rio del Lago was my second attempt to see if I could complete a 100 miles. I failed miserably last year by falling off the boat in training for Headlands 100. So I committed myself to stay put this year and started training in February. After some research I decided to developed a 47 week long training plan that cater a bit more to my female constitution rather than follow standard male training plan that caused me to feel like I was slacking and backsliding constantly. The training build up gradually with back to back weekend training sessions until reaching 30 miles then switch to every other weekend back to back training runs by time rather distance and switch a third time to back to back run every 3 weeks with runs of 40 miles or more. All while keeping steady weeks of two short runs and a mid week long run. It was a challenging training program but was long enough that it had build in non-running weekends to take into consideration the exhaustion typically experience by female monthly cycles. Another decision that I made was not to sign up to any mid training races to not place extra stress on me. I really wanted the training to be as smooth and relax as possible and to be able to focus in building mental strength. As the race week was approaching I was really looking forward to just stop training and to be able to focus weekends in something else other than training.

The mental preparation for the race started two weeks prior to the race in tapering time and I had to make a conscious effort in handling the pre-race jitters keeping myself busy while mentally remaining focus. Package pick up and the race briefing one day prior to the race was a perfect opportunity for me to finally ground myself in the experience. After picking up my bib I decided to take a stroll barefoot around the lake. Burying my toes in the sand with each step in complete silence brought such a joy to my heart, then the lullaby sang by the wind invited me to join. It called me to the edge of the lake. Where the reflexion of a calm sky spoke to me about immeasurable love, about existence and the eternity of that second, reflexion of the Holy light. With that gaze I remained until the race started.

When race day arrived and after practicing for a week waking up at 2:30am getting to the starting line was easy. The joy of finally making it was reflected in my eyes. I found a corner in which to nest myself for some seconds until the horn was blown. Although it was dark still I could not avoid looking at the lake in the distance reflecting about all those runs I have done around the edge of the water at some point, about the sandy golden ground under my feet and about the calmness of the water.

I looked in the direction of the lake while running all the way to Cavitt until I could look no more. It was then when I finally notice the procession of souls. Little halos of light multiplied in the dark trail giving enough light that I didn't have the need to turn my headlamp on. Enough joy ran on the trail that cause me have a deep smile. In that contentment I remained until sunrise. Advancing like a determined relentless army everyone kept on track while I focused on the degrees of light change in the rocks and roots on the trail. When enough light had trickle down to earth I was then able to appreciate the trees, each on in uniqueness, it is something that never gets old in my eyes and one of the things that I enjoy the most about trail running.

Moving through the North Fork of the American River trails you get plenty of opportunity to comulgate with the trees, guardians of the trails. Passing Granite beach towards Horseshoe trail there is a group of giant rocks that causes the trail to slither. I call those the gateway. On training runs that point is when I know my senses have to be in full alert for wildlife and safety. But in race day the gateway caused me to smile because I knew with the safety of the group I could submerge then in just enjoying the views and the surroundings. Which is exactly what I did until sunset. I don’t remember much of the first 50 miles other than a feeling of inebriated happiness. Even Cardiac Hill or K2 didn’t seem to erase the smile of my face.

Things started to get tricky and the real race didn’t started until then for me. I reached the Cool Fire Station at 4:17pm and after talking to a fellow runner, Adrian Torres, he encouraged me to get a massage, to get refreshed. The problem was that I had miscalculated sunset time using summer days and made the mistake of leaving the headlamp and flashlight at the Rattlesnake Aid Station which I unrealistically projected to reach around 8:30pm and was still 3 stations and 18 miles away. With the unavoidable fact that I would be running in the dark I hoped for the best and decided to take get a nurturing massage anyway to have enough time to mentally prepare for the hard time ahead.

As the sunset took place my anxiety increased, running in the dark seem really scary and I hope not having to go to the moderate technical section of the trail before the overlook in the dark but it seem unavoidable. I planned to reach some runners and just stick with them to use their light to guide me. Unfortunately I only found a couple of runners like me running in the dark. Words of solace was all we could give each other. As the darkness increased so did the fear in my heart. I had to ran then with a high stride to avoid tumbling down with unseen rocks and with my hands extended out like a blind person for several miles until I passed No Hands Bridge which is when a found a couple running and upon seen my predicament lend me a headlamp under the condition to use it in the low light setting and returning it at the next aid station. I had my cell phone with me with little battery life left so I had just enough time to call my crew man, Steve Miyama and we agreed to come and meet in the Auburn Overlook Aid Station at mile 54. I guess running in the dark must have eroded my mental focus because the 5 or so miles to get to the Rattlesnake Station felt like the longest miles in the race. Maybe it was just my body starting to feel tired or mental fatigue but I could not wait to meet my pacer, A.Robles in that station.

My pacer stayed with me until Beal’s Point and the comfort of having him pacing me distracted me from the physical pain. When I did stop to check on my blisters I notice my pacers had open bleeding blisters in both feet. That took my attention off myself and I focus then in staying strong to avoid major discomfort for him. The last stretch by Cavitt is when I started questioning my sanity and the what was I thinking thought became ever present. I joked with my pacer to keep the thought at bay but it lurked in the back of my head getting louder as exhaustion set it. While running over the levee in flat terrain I notice that the tibial stress syndrome that I had successfully ignore so far on both legs was intensifying. Shin splints, common name for this ailment  is a very accurate way to describe it. The muscles in my tibias felt like if they were detaching from the bone with each step, a nagging pain that got so intense over the miles that I could only compare it to the feeling you get when your hip is opening up during labor. The pain forced me to take plenty of walk breaks. As I realized the pain had intensified I hear on the distance my son, who was going to be my pacer for the last part of the race, blowing the conch shell horn, quiquizoani, I had recently gotten as a tribute to my grandmother who use to have them around her house when I was little. Listening to it brought back instantly many childhood memories. I saw myself at the Huentitan Canyon with my relatives as a child and remember how tired me and my cousins felt climbing up the treacherous 2 miles back up the canyon and how we all looked at each others tired faces unwilling to quit because it was not even an option, if the other kids could do it so could you. That thought inspired me to run until the end of the race. However my willingness was bigger that my physical energy so I had to stop soon and I kept on entertaining the thought of just quitting the race when reaching Beals point. But each time my son blow the horn it gave me new hope, which is exactly what I needed.

We reached Beal’s point at 2:15am I change pacer then. My son was in charge of staying with me for the last 22 miles. Being in the comfort of the finishing line knowing you still have to go out and back was a bit of a cruel joke from the race organizers. It felt a bit demoralizing. I was thinking just that when I decided to lay down in the bench right at the Aid station. I looked around and saw the giant movie screen and the finishing station with all that food. I verbally expressed my desire to just quit plenty of times after that point. My body was talking to me saying the pain and suffering was pointless. Thankfully my crew pulled me through it and walked me to the bathroom to gear up better to run until sunrise. At that point I was running in a skirt and short sleeves and I was very cold. While changing I notice that my tibias were swollen as well as my right ankle which I twisted while falling in the dark miles with no headlamp. I kept that to myself and put on compression calf sleeves and long sock to aid with support. I thank my pacer and asked him to pray privately with me before taking off again. There was no way I could possibly finish the race so God had to finish it for me.

My son, who is 14, does cross country in school. He started running with me when he was very little which I am really proud of. But I really had not notice how strong of a runner he is or how much he knows about running. He was a very firm, determined pacer. My mind could not focus at all at that point other than the fact that I wanted to rest. Running strategy had gotten off the window a while ago if I ever had any other that to finish. My son promptly focus on telling me when it was time to run down hill or in flats and when it was time to power walk in uphills. He reminded me too when it was time to take electrolytes and eat. Getting out of the Beal’s Point Aid station was hard. But once we were out went out into a slow but consistent pace. By the time we reach the 11 mile return I was completely convince that I did not have enough time to make it back before the 30 hrs cutoff time so I continue to expressed to my son that I was ready to quit. At some point I heard in his voice that he started to come to term with the idea of not finishing but then he went on delivering a small speech on how he had learn so much from me and running and he convince me to not give up on my dream of completing 100 miles. He made me tear up and gave me enough motivation to see me through the end of the race.

On the last stretch of the 11 miles the sun had already come out. I was too tired to greet the sun and pray but the gradual sunlight illuminating all was really welcomed since I did not had to rely on the headlamp I was able to move confidently and keep up a good pace all the way to the Granite Horse Assembly Aid Station from there getting to Cavitt seemed an easy stretch. I continued to had tibia pain but was able to ignore it for a bit. Crossing the levee was mentally taxing. There is a point when you are able to see the finishing line right across from you but the trail has a curved shape and it makes it look closer than it actually is. You feel like you are moving steadily but it takes you longer that expected. I could by that point only run/walk and found along the trail refreshed runners how were completing their weekend run. I could not avoid feeling overwhelm when those runners started to cheer me up with words of encouragement. I started crying then, because I am a crier and always do but mostly because I had an array of mixed emotions in my chest. The pain was constant and sharp, I was grateful for the cheers, I felt confuse about whether or not the effort of training and doing the race was worth the experience.

While training for RDL I had main the idea in mind that if I was strong enough to finish a 100 miler I was then strong enough to confront any issues I may have in life and overcome them. But I was so not feeling strong at that point. That realization made me feel pity for myself. What a foolish way to trick myself into training for a 100 mile race. My constant excuse during training months was I will deal with that after the race  and the race was about to be over and I did not feel any stronger to deal with anything.

I looked at my son then and his expression of confusion brought me back to the present. I could see he did not really know how to handle a crying mother who is about to finish a 100 miler race. I found that amusing and funny because I became aware that I was simply exhausted and that the perception of reality that my brain had then was really off. I wiped my tears just in time to cross the last section of the levee.

I saw then the volunteers before doing the last turn just feet away before the finishing line. I could not believe I had done it! I had completed 100 miles. Pulling myself from a semi-suspended mental state was hard then. My son and me were greeted at the finishing line by my father, my sole inspiration to become a long distance trail runner. My father had never been present in any of my races before and instant happiness filled my heart when I looked straight into his eyes. Like a little girl who says to her Dad -Look Daddy what I can do, I smile at him and hugged him satisfied. I was surprised at my strenght. Even more after the painful 4 recovery days in took to feel better. Having a bit of a runner’s blue was an expected part of the experience after the race.

What I did not expect was the changes that experience over the following weeks after the race. I cannot say it made me a better person but, it made me a bit more confident and capable. I became a bit more assertive and confident even though I am still an introvert and keep to myself I don’t second guess myself anymore like before or future trips either because now I trust in God and know all things happen at its given time.

R. Gabriela Fredrickson

Cinderella 2012

After a whole year of waiting for the opportunity to try the same course that I completed last year but in the 50k instead of the marathon I was very excited and nervous about getting to the starting line. I had not had a long run for three weeks mostly because my trip to Portugal threw my focus off. That made me very hesitant in regards to my ability to finish my first 50k.

I met with my friend Ron, who had been giving me coaching tips, a week before for a quick overview of the course and the strategy approach. I decided to make a couple of changes on how I got ready for runs because I had lost weight in my trip to Portugal and that tends to affect my sugar levels which causes me to bonk easily.

My friend Ron, whom I had paced in AR50 offer to come with me to Cinderella and that eased my anxiety in regards to how to make it back to town after the run. I had a very hard drive going back to Sacramento last year and had to actually stop and sleep for 3 hours before driving back due to exhaustion. I was neglectful then, it took me a while to finally accept that I was not able to make it back without stopping and I did drove for a bit fighting my eyes to stay open. So I was very glad to get the drive back plan figure out and of my mind with his support.

The morning of the event started slow and I guess I must have had felt very comfortable with my friend around because we stop to eat breakfast, miss two exits in the freeway and stop for the bathroom before realizing I was cutting it very close to missing the start of the race. When we finally made it to the starting line the run had already started!  So I found myself rushing to catch up with everyone else forgetting, sunblock, my hat and sunglasses but even more my ipod. The last one very important because music is how I reward myself at mile 15 and how I cope with any physical pain I may have then. I did not think about any of that while rushing to catch up with everyone else and found it in fact very funny that I was late.


My smile started to diffuse around the time I reached the Bridle Trail, 8 miles into the run, when I realize the canopy of trees was subsiding. Denial, my good old friend. I cheerfully thought at the beginning that the sequoia trees would shade me from the sun for a long time. Well, that is never the case in Cinderella and found myself missing my hat and my sunglasses but above all my sweet sweet music.
I went then through all the stages of the grieving process over those forgotten items over the 30 miles. After denial I was in shock. I could not believe I forgot them! How could I have been so stupid!
Then I went throught pain. The sun burned my skin, I tried to focus on each little step I could give going the two miles of steep uphill. But the thirst kept forcing me to drink a bit more and more of water, which usually I am very good about rationing. I simply had to because without my hat dehydration was settling in quick and I had a headache.
The glaring sunlight in my eyes did not help, my sensitive post-surgery corneas complaint, as did my waistline not use to carrying water on a belt for a long distance, one of the changes that smart me decided to do for this race with no time to allow my body to get used to it before.

The pain brought frustration and anger because I knew I will have to endure it for 20 more miles. I had all kind of irrational thoughts in my head at that point I blamed me and the monkeys for all the suffering and hunger in the world. I was angry with myself, silly me, acting like this was my first run ever. Angry for being neglectful and angry for having a bad training strategy.
But then I bargain, the world could save me, if only my friend could rescue me and magically appear around with my hat, or ipod, or sunglasses or any combination of the above. That hope kept me moving until mile 13. 

 I saw my friend Ron, standing up at the end of the loop, which was the end for the half marathoners, and then I  realized he did not get the message that I texted from the top point of the trail when I was able to get a weak signal asking for the forgotten items. It was until then that I realized I could not let myself lose focus and although for the rest of the run never really reach a point where I felt on the zone and continue to feel raw discomfort I did not allowed my mind to get into a negative mind frame because I could simply not afford to lose faith in me finishing the run.

 Once I stopped being fixated over the things that I did not have and the half marathon crowd gone, the trails where empty for enjoyment. I was able to surpass the pain I started to feel in my IT bands from twisting constantly to fix my water belt and the stomach discomfort. Then the canopy of trees and its shade was a gift that I truly appreciated, the second time around. I felt grateful and focused on keeping a steady pace.

I saw barely anyone on the trails but did notice that whomever I encounter I was passing with no effort. I could not tell if they were marathoners or 50k participants and there was no way to know my place on the 50k pack. I was afraid of being the last to finish. That fear kept me from dropping my pace. I felt I could run the little uphills since I trained to do uphills for up to 2 miles in a slow running pace but was afraid to over extend my efforts and risk not finishing at all so I forced myself to walk them; as a result a little quarrel went on my head every time I came to an uphill. My little old friend Smeagol who made his appearance in my head at Nike Women's Marathon came back. He said: do it stop being such a baby! but then turn around to say: no stop and walk you need to conserve energy. That little image going on in my head made me laugh and because of it I started to look forward to the uphills just to get a laugh out of my brain's way to cope. 

By the end of the second loop or the end of the marathon I saw my friend Ron with my hat on his hands and that made me get a great sense of relief and I realized I could definitely finish my first 50k.
As part of the second loop one of the only persons I encountered was a female that either I pass or she passed me on three occasions. Who at the end of the second loop sprinted off and left me demoralized. When I got to the station we both realized that we were completing different distance she cheer for me and express admiration and that brought a smile to my face. The person at the station told me too that the first 50k female has just past and if I rushed I could reach her. I was very surprised since in my head I was the very last 50k person. I discarded the idea of trying to reach her fast after my little good Smeagol reminded me to conserve energy.

   

Feeling grateful I say goodbye to my waterbelt and with a water bottle on each hand and a hat I felt light and renewed ready to tackle the last 4 miles. The IT pain which had increased at that point had me constantly telling myself a little mantra, pain is unavoidable and reward expected. I was very shocked when two miles later and a bit before I reached the last break station I actually reach the first female, she looked at me and in resignation said congratulations... I replied back that I just wanted the pain to be over. In retrospective I think I should had been more empathetic of her efforts and answer congratulations to you too but cannot reverse time. When I reach the station the same girl who told me of the first female runner was there since it was a little loop. She cheer and scream so loud that it made me laugh, she kept on repeating you are winning and that gave me a little humble upside down smile still not sure I could really get first overall female place.

After leaving the station on an opposite direction I spotted a tall blond girl with a very athletic body going on a steady fast pace and I rushed my paced on a technical downwill that ran through a creek full of loose rocks for more than a mile, which is the most challenging kind of terrain for me since I suffer a fall in the Muir Woods Marathon and ever since get scared of it. Later becomes an almost flat end of the course and makes it easy to feel you are shining when you finish.

Once in a while I would turn back convince the tall blonde girl would be there pacing me but saw no one. When I reach the end I still did not have the certainty I was the first female and after they check my number, name and authentication band they confirm it! I was the first overall female finisher on my first 50k. Cool very, very cool.

Like in every event it takes me just one second to start dreaming again about the next event. Thinking longer, bigger, better training just waiting for me around the corner after two weeks rest made me smile with a big grind. My friends and relatives were really glad to learn of my little achievement and my friend made me feel like such a champion driving me back while I rest, which then for me was like heaven as was the watermelon slice I ate right after the Cinderella 50k and getting into bed to finally sleep for a long long time that nigh.  

Nike Women's 2011

An invitation from my friend Suzi to be part of her Nike Women's Marathon team came as a pleasant surprise. It took me about  two seconds to confirming with a big YES my participation. I committed myself to a dedicated training period and some very satisfying fun group runs with my friends Karen and Suzi.
I had spent a whole summer participating in other events as part my training, a summer trail training group, Cinderella marathon and Urban Cow just two weeks prior to NWM. I had a slight notion that all those events had render my body very susceptible to an injury and by the time I started NWM I had to make de choice of either just pace myself or try to improve my PR for in a marathon knowing that the price to pay for it would have to be an injury. But even when that was the case I knew it was a experience worth having.

We got to SF a day before. We carpool to the city and driving there was fun, my friend Suzi and cousin Pat, could not get over me and my attachment to my GPS. I got a kick out of their reaction when they realized I have a name for it and I that I hold it in my hand while driving. We got to SF the day before and spend the day walking around the NWM Expo and shopping around, got matching shirts and had dinner at a wonderful Italian restaurant to celebrate my friend's birthday.
The we went to our Hotel and got a restless night, the kind you get before an event due to excitement. The next morning we met at the lobby and walked to the starting line some blocks away from the Hotel Baldwin where we stayed.

The beginning was impressive. The NWM site said they were expecting 22,500 participants but I had the bib  26,414.When we walked to the starting line and my cousin Pat saw the crowd I could tell she was worried for me because she knows I get some anxiety in confined crowded spaces. I saw her face then I turn to the crowd and really tried not to flip out. There was a sea of people. Suzi must have notice cause she held my hand really tight. We tried walking into the 9 to 10 minute pace area but simply couldn't so we settle with just getting a bit into the crowd. It got better 3 blocks into the run. By then we had enough space that we could extend half of our arms out and I was able to relax.

I had pain from the very beginning of the marathon due to overuse and I was in total denial over it. I decided to pop a pain killer (naproxen) to make it to the finishing without suffering. It did help and once I warm up I had just mild discomfort... that is until mile 15.

Then in between the asphalt and the posterior tibia tendonitis made it difficult to enjoy the scenery. Which I was really enjoying. There were beautiful views. At mile 15 is typically when I turn on the music as a way to reward myself. So it made it nice again.

By mile 18 I was having real pain so I had this great idea to pop another pill. I started having difficulty breathing. I was trying to grasp for air and my lungs just couldn't do it. It was like an asthma attack. Trying not to get scared again I focused in the music and I ran pretty much all the way to the end with little grasps of air. A couple of times I did think on stopping in the aid stations... but I am not the quitting kind of gal.

By mile 19 after shallow breathing for a mile everything felt so heavy and I had to make the executive decision of parting from everything I could do without which consisted of basically my visor. That was hard. I literally cried; mostly because it was a present a friend had given to me. It was and old and ugly visor when I got it but a present never the less. I stop in front of a tree and lay it next to it. Waited a second and said my good bye to it.

From there on besides monitoring my breathing and staying calm I had to work on not crying. The shallow breathing made me feel fragile, vulnerable and very emotional. NWM became a catharsis for me right then. I was looking at people holding signs cheering on and wanted to cry, certain songs that came on the ipod made me cry, guys holding flowers for their girls, little kids with smiling faces looking for their mommies, not being able to see Suzi finishing after looking desperately for her and at the end realizing Pat and Steve didn't made it to the finishing line due to heavy traffic, I was a big ugly emotional mess.

Around mile 21 I felt like there were rocks inside my shoes. I am familiar by now with that feeling; it is when my toe nails are coming off. So I had to stop to fix a bit my shocks. Lost 4 toenails, that is my badge of honor :)

By mile 20 I have gotten to the Ghirardelli station so I took 2 chocolates, ate one in a gulp and put the other one in my pocket thinking about giving it to Pat as a present. By then I had eaten all but one of my energy chews.

When I reach mile 23 I told myself ok it is time to reward myself with the last chew. I open the zipper in my water bottle (which by then was almost empty) and the damn chew felt to the ground. Aggghhhh! I
thought about picking it up for a second but then I remember the lady with the poopy pans we saw at the begging. Ehhh! So the last 3 miles I had this mental discussion on whether or not I should eat that chocolate. It went something like this:

- She will totally understand, - nooo no no no but I got it for her...

- But you just ran a damn marathon you need it! -But I got it for her. It is a special Chocolate...

- You could just not tell her about it! -But you will know it in your mind...

I felt like Smeagol from Lord of the Rings and then that made me smile giving me the extra kick I needed to get to the finishing line trying to increase the pace a bit. And Pat really got to enjoy her chocolate when I finally gave it to her after telling her the story :D

I had heard before from other runners that when you push your body to an extreme your brain starts coping with the fatigue in weird ways. I never imagine I could get to that point but I guess in over medicating the pain I had and the allergic reaction I had to the medication did just that and I found myself turning at mile 24 and seeing my ex-sister in law, who died of cancer a year prior, standing up at the curbside looking very pretty clapping and smiling for me. I could not believe my eyes I look straight at her and pass by in disbelieve amazed about the tricks the brain plays in those circumstances.

It was really rewarding to realize when I crossed the finishing line that all the effort was worth something. I improve my marathon time getting a PR with 4:24. With an improvement of  27 minutes. It was a hard and demanding marathon. Physically taxing but it was worth the experience.

In talking to Suzi about it we did agree that it was mostly because of the kind of cement, old and roughed so it was like running on poky gravel most of the time. That plus the fact that I wore the Merell train run shoes with 4 mm of thickness is almost like running barefoot and offer no protection for cement. I had done the Cow Town half marathon on those shoes two weeks prior too. Which I learn was a mistake. As a result of this effort my right foot arch collapsed and I was out of running for 4 months. It was a hard lesson to learn. Right after the marathon and went ahead and bought the Nike Free Style 3.0 which is a minimal shoe still but has cushion which makes it perfect for cement run.

I guess the highlight for me was the enormous amount of internal dialog I had. It was like having a big mommy me inside caring for a baby me. It was loving and very reassuring.

The experience allowed me to learn more about my particular shoe needs.

Now I look back at the experience and have memories full of endurance and determination which is at the end what running reinforces in you. Despite the pain, reaching your goals always makes you a stronger person and allows you to feel fulfilled and happy.