Eva Runs Through It

I have been hearing for quite a while now about how tough Sehgahunda is.  I’ve heard it’s “tougher than Ironman” and “intense from start to finish”.  I did not diminish these comments and prepared for an intense day.  I’d heard of its intensity from too many people to dismiss these comments, but I’d also made the incorrect assumption that my previous tough trail races would give me an edge.  What I should have done is looked at the damn elevation chart. I didn’t do that until the ride to the start with Lisa, Gary and Dan.  I assumed the race logo with the scribbled-in line was decorative.  They sort of laughed and informed me that that was the in fact the elevation chart for the course.   All the website stated was,             “ Your meander through the wooded single-track along the rim will be punctuated by a seemingly interminable series of gullies, each entailing a rapid descent an...

The night before my first marathon, my friend/neighbor/mentor came by to wish me luck (with an Aero bar, God bless him).  Before he left, he said the number “19”.  To abate my confusion, he explained that he likes to dedicate miles to friends, family members even non-friends.  Giving dedicated time to one person for a full mile is a wonderful distraction.  He claimed 19 as his number.  I’ve kept this technique ever since, and I find it invaluable.  BTW, guess which mile Dave was waiting for me at? During my drive to Cleveland, I finalized whom I planned to dedicate miles to, although sometimes people just jump into my head and are dedicated by default.  Keeping people in my thoughts who have touched my life has gotten me to push further than I believed possible.  Moreover, I planned to dedicate my race to a special friend and her husband.  If they can get through their trials, I was going to draw strength from this family whose sense of...

It’s called getting “chicked”, and some guys really don’t like it.   What it means is that during your race, be it running, biking or swimming, a woman breaks evolutionary law and passes a man.  Sounds innocent enough, doesn’t it?  Let me tell you from experience, some men find this extremely distasteful, and have no qualms of letting their unhappiness be shown.  Apparently, the insult is even greater if the woman is wearing a ponytail, a skirt, or the color pink. I’ve been thrown elbows, drafted, trash talked, and otherwise nudged by my disgruntled XY counterparts, after I’ve executed a “chicking” pass   I’ve raced some guys down to the finish line only to be told that I’ve had “a good run, for a girl”.  Damn, I must have missed the fine print on those racing applications where it states that I should lighten up my race, so as not to affect a man’s ego. I remember way back in elementary school when Halifax Town Soccer first started, and my mom...

            It was my dad who taught me the difference.  A graveyard is next to a church; a cemetery is separate.  My dad also taught me that you could learn a lot from wandering amongst headstones.   Being from New England, we had lots of old cemeteries to wander.  We would find humor as well as poignant, pithy, and profound quotes.              It would be a game for us to find the oldest headstone, or where the cemetery kept the “spoils”.   You see, when a grave is dug, and the hole filled back in after the casket is placed, there is always some soil left over.  This is referred to as the “spoils”.   It is usually piled up in some remote corner.  Every active cemetery has a place, and it’s not always easy to find.  I don’t like to think of the irony, but that spoil soil sure did make my dad’s tomato plants grow quite nicely.  ...

             Wow!  What a race.              I wasn’t proud of last year’s racing season.  It caused me to question if I wanted to continue with ultra running, resume triathon’s/duathlons or try something completely different.  (Some of those other ideas are still brewing, but that is for another blog).  But, the BoB cemented in my mind that not only do I love ultras, but also I love them for reasons greater than just running.             The race really started for me on Friday night.  About 20 of us got together for dinner.  I know many of these people from racing with them or from their volunteering.   Running with someone makes friendships form faster and deeper than is possible in other situations.  It was nice to see them “with their clothes on” vs. in race gear....

            I don’t know how to taper before a race.   Correct that, I don’t like to taper before a race.   Tapering is when you have to admit that you’ve trained all you can, and you must get ready for the starting line.   For me that means, running less, eating more, and sleeping sporadically.   For my family, it means I become a miserable old sock.             I’ve said it before running helps keep me sane.   Without it, I sweat the small stuff, and not even my hidden stash of Hostess Cupcakes can bring me out of my funk.             I come from a long line of people who like to keep moving.   My mom’s motto is “don’t sit before noon”.    My dad was a putterer.   Rick builds things, Mark has a very physical job, Danielle, well, go ahead and try to get her to stay in o...

             I did my first marathon in order to fulfill a goal.  At almost 39, I planned to run “40 races by 40”.  The marathon was to be race number 40.  I worked my way through 5k’s, tri’s, du’s and half marathons, but felt I wouldn't be a real runner until I ran a marathon.  I ran it “Oprah style”.  I had friends and family rooting me on and finished somewhere in the 4:30’s.  It was painful and hard, and I assumed I’d never run another one.             Okay, the next week, I signed up for my second, to be held a few months later.  I wanted to make sure that my finishing was not a fluke.  Was I really a marathoner?  Things changed during my second marathon.  I finished it in 4 hours, and it was fun.  During the race, I kept seeing signs like “Boston or bust” or  “BQ Bound”.  Obviously, being a Cape Cod girl, I knew the significance...