How to make friends, influence people, and finish a 25mile race

Me hiding under the trail awning waiting for the race to start

Two weeks ago I ran the Quad Rock 25 mile race at Lory State Park in Fort Collinish. It's one of my favorite races, I think one of the races I've run the most since I started distance running, and a race that proves my point: if you can't win races at least make sure the race has a sweet finisher medal at the end. Quad Rock does not disappoint. Rather than a metal clangy thing that I'll wear once and then remove it and look at it each time I have to move as I place it into a different box to totally hang up later, they give you a sweet ass coffee mug that can double as a beer mug.

The weather was not ideal. It was reminiscent to the last time I ran this race although this time it was most definitely raining. So we were running in the rain while also running through the cloud that was raining on us. This is the plot of Inception 2.

Erin Bibeau photography got some great action shots!

Oddly enough, I think the interesting weather played a significant part in my finishing and not feeling horrible. My final time was 6:42:14. Not amazing, but I didn't want to die at the end. The race was so wet, that there were parts unrunnable, at least for most people, which slowed everything down. Maybe I could have shaved 10-15min off with dry trails, but the forced slowness likely contributed to my lack of pain. I'm used to being on my feet for long stretches, but not as great at being on my feet for long stretches going fast. I had to take it slow, which translated into not feeling as fatigued when I'm at my slowest; uphill. I was woefully undertrained for this race. Very few trail miles and very few consistent weeks of runs. On paper I should have crawled across the finish line, but here I am, all smiles and mud.

Coming through the last stretch of trail before getting my mug!

I'm not saying that my training should be mimicked. Having the experience of finishing long races, including this one, in the past mentally I knew I could finish. In distance running, physical training only goes so far. Mentally training your body to continue despite [fill in the blank] is the key to connecting it all through the last mile. It is also something that doesn't leave you as quickly as physical ability. I knew going in I wouldn't break a PR, or win my age bracket, and this time I was ok with that. I never once thought, I can't do this, I can't finish. That took years of hard miles and harder races to develop. That spark that makes me want to beat myself the next time I go out did get a little stronger.

Another significant part of my success comes down to three things: honeystinger, pickles etc, and PBR. I realized after my less than steller half marathons, that maybe I needed to revisit my fuel and calorie intake. I kept thinking "13.1 is so short I don't need to eat". False. Food is fuel and without fuel you putter around. I made a commitment to eat every 30min, with something more substantial at least every hour or as I got to aid stations. I stuck with Honey Stinger gummies while I was on the move and whatever I put in my mouth at the aid stations. This came out to be M&Ms, chips, pickles, cokes, bananas, and a quesadilla. I also celebrated the awesomeness of aid station volunteers, but drinking a small cup of PBR at mile 10. Definitely helped me get up the second big climb.

My next race is the North Fork 50k. Thanks to Wrong Way Ryan for getting me a free entry for being hands down the best aide station volunteer ever. I'm also not in the best training state for a 50k, but conquering Quad Rock give me the strength to know that I can physically get it done. And the chance of being covered, head to toe in mud, is highly unlikely. I think I have my fuel worked out more and keeping my body stocked with the energy I need to finish will be priority number one.

On a more feelings based note, while traveling for work this week, my coworker and were having general discussions about running and my upcoming race at North Fork. I was discussing my use of audio stimuli on road runs vs. trail runs (I do when I'm training miles on pavements, I never use it when I'm racing or running on trails). This brought up one of my joys of trail running and trail races; the people. You meet the best people when you're 4 hours into 32 miles and haven't seen an ice cube in what feels like days. Our discussion brought up a great memory I had a few years back running the North Fork 50k. In the stretch leading up to the last aide station before the finish, I ended up spending a lot of time with 2 women as we slowly made the climb up out of a gully. We were tired, almost 25miles into the race at this point. One of the woman was 70, she was worried about finishing within her goal time. Her goal time was important because her husband told her that if she couldn't finish this race within that time frame, she shouldn't (or couldn't) do a 100 miler she had planned on later that year. That got all of us focused on getting her to the finish so she could keep her goal alive. We talked about races, how running affects our partners and our social lives, how the other woman paced her friend while she was 7 months pregnant. We got to the last aide station and as she got her needs met and I sat down under the awning drinking the beer Wrong Way Ryan saved for me. I wished her well and told her I'd try to catch her on the way down. I did end up catching her about a mile before the finish and we finished that last leg together. As we rounded  the corner into the finish I told her to go for it and she sprinted ahead to her husband cheering. I'm not going to lie, while running tends to make all of us weirdly emotional, this time I really had to hold back tears because it was just so awesome.

I'm really looking forward to North Fork. My time goal, yes I'm taking a leap and putting one out there, is 7:30. Hopefully that includes some beer before the last downhill. It's going to be hot, it always is. I got a good run in today, sweating through about 9 miles in 90 degrees. No stomach cramps and an ice cold Coke when I finished. Here's to new friends, cold beer, and 32 miles of smiles!

There's always something, right?

There's always something...right?

I got a lot of compliments on my hoody.
Kircher said I looked like a Teletubby
Quad Rock 25 2016: 6hours 23min 21sec

When you prepare for a race, a tournament, a big event you always imagine perfection. How everything leading up to it goes just perfectly and you seamlessly float from waking up to kicking ass. In reality, at least in my reality, that never happens.

Looking back at races there's always something that puts a kink in my perfect armor. There was the year before the Salida Marathon when my whole life did a 180. There was the year at Quad Rock I left all of my race food and my watch at home. There was my first 50 miler when I managed to severely roll my ankle just a few weeks out from the race. There was this years Quad Rock when I neglected to bring any of my proper cold/wet running gear to the start.

There really is always something and I'm beginning to think that something is the new perfection. I begin to get worried if something hasn't gone wrong or isn't ideal before a race. When I forgot my food and watch before Quad Rock I ran my fastest race time on that course ever. When I rolled my ankle I finished my first 50 miler. When I forgot my proper running attire, I got more compliments on my "cool hoody" then every race I've ever run combined.

The Dashing Divas Dashed to finish the marathon.
Signs made by yours truly.

We all have a fear of something going into a big race, my friend Carissa lived hers out a few weeks ago at the Colfax Marathon. She was running the first leg of the relay, the race started at 6:00am, she woke up at 6:10am. By the miracle of her two legs and some help from an uber driver she got on the race course and managed to make up a ton of time. Basically shit happens, there's always something, and despite all of that we still go on, we still run, hopefully we still finish.

My lack of posting is not evidence of my lack of running. Since the 50 miler in December I've gotten out quite a bit. I had the Salida Marathon in March, Quad Rock in May, and tomorrow is the North Fork 50k. As I get ready for tomorrow I'm again reminded...it's always something right?

First off I'm moving. No not I will be moving or I am moved. I'm in the actual act of moving. Thankfully most of my stuff has made it to the new place, but up until yesterday most of my race gear was still at the old place. I honestly can't say for sure where everything is except I made it a point to keep my running shoes in my car since the last race. Partly so I wouldn't forget, mostly because they were really dirty.

Second, I need new contacts. Honestly I've needed new contacts for almost 2 years, but I didn't drag myself to the eye doctor for a new prescription until last December. It's now been a 2 month process trying to get 1-800contacts to send me my contacts. I was hoping for some before tomorrow, I'm on my last itchy and dry pair. No such luck, the earliest arrival date is now Monday.

Third, I'm doing this race almost 100% solo. I say almost because thankfully my buddy Ryan will be at my favorite aid station, hopefully with a beer (hopefully? who are we kidding when there's Kircher there's beer). But I'm driving there solo, running solo, finishing solo, and driving home solo. It's hard to not be a little bummed by that. Running is a solo sport, but so much of what I love is the joy of being with crazy runners going out on the trail from 4, 5, 6, sometimes 13 hours. It's in my nature to want to share this so I'm sad that I won't have a predetermined person to share it with at the finish line.*

Despite the above, I feel good about the race. I feel good about my training and my conditioning. I'm really excited to just go out and run. I'm hoping to get up a good recap following the race before I jump right into another one in two weeks; Grandma's marathon!

Here's hoping that again there's something and that something turns into a good finish tomorrow.

*before you go thinking woe is Emily she has no friends. Race timing, work logistics, and health issues have taken away my usual support suspects. They aren't ditching me, they are just humans with human things. It's always something right?

Thoughts on Boston

I wanted to comment on what happened in Boston as soon as it happened, but I wasn't really sure what I wanted to write.I still struggle with what thoughts come to my mind and I am sure we all will as the whole story continues to unfold.

What happened was horrible. As my friends and I watched the incoming news coverage, tweets, rumors, speculations all we could keep saying and thinking is why would it happen at a marathon. But I realized that's  me saying it because it's an area and an event that I'm all to familiar with. It's no less horrible for kids to be shoot at school, at a movie theater, on the corner of their street in Chicago. It's no less horrible for a bomb to go off at the Olympics, a building in Oklahoma City, or Damascus. Violence is horrible, where ever it takes place and there doesn't need to be a good answer to the "why" question for us to feel pain, frustration, and anger. It's easy to imagine events happening to other people for reasons unknown to you because we are taught that if we do good we can avoid the unimaginable.

I felt an uncomfortable closeness to what was happened. I had friends running in the race and another friend cheering runners on. Thankfully they were all away from the finish line when it happened, but the thought of someone being that close was chilling. I still get goosebumps thinking about my own goals of qualifying for Boston some day and the image of the first blast going off and the time on the race clock, 4:09 which is close to my typical marathon time of 4:06.

What really impacted me was how it made me feel about the experience at the end of the race. Anyone who has run a race, whether it is a 5k or an 100 miler knows the feeling you have when you are truly on the homestretch. All the training, hydration, gu shots choked down can only get you so far. It's the crowd that somehow manages to make your legs run just a little faster, your feet feel just a little lighter. The pain you feel in that last stretch, even if you've been feeling it for the last 10 miles, can melt away when you hear people shouting. That last stretch in a race is truly magical and to think that for so many runners that last stretch was ruined, or they did not get to make it to that last stretch, because of selfish bombers who chose an event and an location based on people and media coverage really makes me sad.

I know all of us have made commitments, whether in public or personally, that this will only make us continue. We will continue to sign up for races, we will continue to run hill repeats in the cold darkness of Green Mountain, we will continue to stick around after crossing the finish line to cheer on fellow runners, we will continue to man aid stations and fuel runners with cheers and recharge. If there is one thing I know about this community it is that we've never let much get in our way to make a race successful - whether it be running, cheering, volunteering, or all of the above. That is why I'm proud to call myself a runner and proud to be part of this community.