Eva Runs Through It

This was not an easy race.  Which is good, I didn’t want it to be.  I truly felt blessed to be ABLE to run this race.  To know that even though it would be hard, I would get to the finish line.  I knew that there was a good chance I’d come home bruised, dirty, or cold, and I did—all three. I count my blessings, because today, I ran for my mother-in-law, Thelma (Thel). Heaven only knows if she has weeks, days, or just hours left, but Thel’s ticket to heaven has been purchased…we are just awaiting the departure date. This beautiful woman was once a power walker.   It was not uncommon to see her around her neighborhood or along the path at Niawanda Park.   She was active until she couldn’t be. Advanced dementia is a horrible disease.   Thel’s conversation skills during the past few years are akin to one of those amusement park rides.   You know, the kind where you sit in a cart on a track.   The cart passes a switch that activates s...

I spent most of 2013 on the roads, prepping for the Double Buckle.  I assumed the training would do double duty and prep me for Oil Creek 100.  In some ways, it did.  I was mentally able to take on the challenge.  I knew what I would face.  I knew how to prepare and to execute.  What I didn’t know was how to beat that damned clock. I just didn’t train the trails enough.   It bit me HARD at Oil Creek.   I needed it to. Enter, Mendon Pond 50k.   It was my first race back on the trail since OC, and I was determined to nail it.   As is custom, I somehow annoyed Mother Nature and she decided to play with her weather machine.    We had a windstorm the day before with 60 mph gusts.   It was cold, and it was predicted to rain—hard.   AWESOME!!!!   If I was going to prove myself, I wanted something to work with.   Thanks Mom! This is a small race.   Not long after I got my registration materials, ...

So, the night before Oil Creek, I leaned over to Roger and I said, “if one more person tells me to ‘have fun’, I’m going to lose it.”  He looked at me, like I had lost my mind. It didn’t take him long to realize that I HAD lost my mind.  Oil Creek gets in my head like no other race.  I train hard for it, and it is in my mind during every race I do.  Heck, I even dream about it.  Have fun?  Not a chance.  I was obsessing about pace, and gear, and weather, and bears.  I was going to attempt the 100-mile distance, and KNEW I could get the job done in 34 hours.  The problem was that I was only given 32.  (Roger—you know you were out of your mind telling me 30, right?) The race started at 5 am.  Rog had been telling me to stay on his shoulder from the start until sunrise or AS1.  I stood right next to him, and lost him immediately.  Dammit.  I was worried (imagine that) about the condition of the trai...

Beast of Burden Summer 100 I LOVE the Beast.  It is as much a reunion of friends, as it is a running event.  It is a four loop (25 miles each) course along the Erie canal.  It is pancake flat and there is NO protection from the environment.  As pretty as it looks, it is tough and unforgiving.  It scares the hell out of me.  The first loop was fun.  I was battling some stomach issues, but I was able to stick to the race plan.  I started with my traditional cry.  I really don’t plan to do this, but I get myself so worked up during taper, that I’ve got a lot to let out once I can finally do what I do.  Jim and Marco know that once I say, “give me a minute”, that I’m going to take off and let loose.  I do my best mile splits during those times… During the second loop, the wheels fell off.  First I didn’t make the bridge.  Uggh—up and over I go, which is REALLY painful after running 26 miles.  Things we...

What a long strange race this was.   I had been stalking the weather report for weeks.  The temps were hovering in the mid 90’s with an index well over 100.  The final report said that the race would have a heat index of 110 and severe thunderstorms in the evening.   People kept asking me if the race would be cancelled.   I would give that that look, usually reserved for my son, when he tries to comprehend something non-literal.   ‘Ultra races don’t get cancelled, runners just have to adapt’ was my reply.  See where this is going…. So, on the road I go to Philly.  About four hours into my ride, I get a series of messages from a friend that the race is changed from a 24-hour race starting on Saturday to a 12-hour race starting on Sunday.   I’m annoyed that I hear this message from a friend and not the race itself, as by this point packet pickup is already underway. Okay—I’m mildly bugged, but I can a...

I come from a big, close family.  Well, close in feelings, but geographically we are about 500 miles apart.  Thanks to Facebook, we keep in touch on the little tidbits of life.  It was through Facebook that I started to see several members of my family have started to run/walk to get in shape.  It got my wheels turning, and it gave me what my husband calls my "make shit happen" face. I was going to recruit as many Kaloshi as possible to run their first 5k.  It started with the normal family stuff:  I will if she will, I don't want to be last, you'll just laugh at me, I really don't run that fast, etc., When all of that settled, I got my SIL Beth, niece Heather, her husband Joe, their baby Logan, my nephew Mike, and my son Noah to toe the line.  My (now 30 pounds lighter) sister Danielle wanted to run, but hurt herself lifting a patient and had to bow out.  At least she wore a Chara shirt to the race...

I went to the Dr. office on Monday.  He said the words that I’ve wanted to hear, “yes Eva, you can run”.  He said lots of other words too, but I must admit that I wasn’t nearly as focused on them as I was on my clearance.   Yes, there are more things to do with my “treatment plan” and yes, I’m not fully healed…cartiledge tears take time…but I can resume training.  YES! Next, I had to decide how much I wanted to push it on Saturday.  It killed me to miss Segahunda after my injury, and I searched the internet  to find another trail marathon.  It was between a race in Philly or Mohican.  I NEEDED to race.   I was willing to travel, and I wanted hills, mud, roots, single track---the whole nine yards.  Rog and I both had a couple DNS's that were bothering us.  We both ultimately decided to run Mohican.  He was doing the 50 miler and me the marathon. The problem was, he was working his subtle powers of pe...