Eva Runs Through It

Tuesday: I’m not getting sick.   I’m not getting sick Wednesday:   D ammit! It wasn’t a big sick; you should hear the convoluted way I blamed it on the chicken silo.   But, it was a sick that jepordized my ability to make it to the Beast starting line.    I didn’t know if I’d be up to running, but promised myself that if I did, I would embrace the opportunity to do what I truly love.  By Friday, all signs pointed to me making it to the starting line.   But, as fate goes, I made it...15 minutes after everyone else had already started.   DFL, but grateful to be there. Locking my keys in the car and the dash to get going threw me a bit off balance.   My friend Denise saw my discombobulation and hugged me.   Sometimes all I need is a hug to get back on track.    Okay…game on. I was grateful to be running.   I promised myself not to dwell on the obstacles put in front of me.   I would “embrace the suck”....

 It’s the big one for me.  It’s the toughest race I do, and I’ve been at the starting line for every event.  The problem is, I’ve not always found the finish line.  I’ve DNF’ed twice on the course, at the 100k (bears psyched me out) and the 100 miler (I took a beating and couldn’t find a way to recover).  According to my friend Nick, it's my unicorn. I’ve spent the last year, focused on getting this job done.   I worked my butt off with relentless training.   Yes, by building physical strength, but more importantly by building my mental toughness. Mark tells me that he knew I turned a corner one day, when I told him I no longer cared if I finished or not.   Oh, I WANTED a finish, but I wasn’t going to let a non-finish define me.   I knew I had trained as hard as I possibly could, and if I ddin’t find the finish line, it would be because of something very far out of my control.   He told me that my taper was the most serine he ha...

So, Oil Creek 100 is made up of 3-31 mile loops, followed by an 8-mile, “Coming Home” loop.  Yes…. I’ve done the math.  I know that’s 101 miles.  I try not to think about it. For each of the first three loops, when you approach a fork in the trail, marked only by two humble signs, you turn to the right.   However, should you reach that glorious Coming Home loop, you get to turn to the left.   Rog has asked me to have someone with me when I do that loop, as it contains a hill that is quite sadistic.   It is called, "The Hill of Truth".    I’ve trained on the loop twice, once with Rog, and once on my own.   I understand his concern.    Roger knows how hard I’ve been training.   I’m not one to post every workout, but I’ve been putting in the miles.   He recently asked me my plan for this year’s race.    It is simple and summed up in five words:   This year, I turn left .   That race has defeat...

    Time with my son has become a rarity.   He’s hardly home, and his priorities, as they should, have switched from family time to his life outside of this house.    When the opportunity for Nat to have a weekend sleepover with her bestie, on the same weekend Noah wasn’t overbooked, AND the Finn McCool Obstacle race was running, I could not pass up the true gift of an opportunity.   When we’ve done these types of races before, Noah and I generally keep pace with each other.    It was made crystal clear to me, on the first obstacle, that today was going to be very different.   The race took place at Kissing Bridge Ski Resort,   The first obstacle was a mega slip and slide down the central ski slope.   Just as I approached it, Noah purposely clipped my ankle, taking me out, then dove over me.   “See ya’ Mom” was all I heard as he took off down the mountain.   This was going to be HIS race.   Go boy, go! That...

125 miles…that’s about two hours on the interstate.   Enough time to listen to “Exile on Main Street” by the Rolling Stones and “Dark Side of the Moon” by Pink Floyd in their entirety with a few minutes to spare.   On a bright and blistering 85-degree day, the Beast called from the banks of the Erie Canal in Lockport, dangling a challenging distance that I had never personally attempted before, much less accomplished.    It was the 10 th annual “Running of the Beasts” complete with a running costumed bull, sombreros and red kerchiefs in the swag bags.   With my drop bag ready and a new pair of Brooks’ Transcends on the dogs, I ventured out the door at 7 AM.   I first met Denise in the registration line …a woman whom I was told was running the same distance as me; she would help me out and have my back today.   If I didn’t know how to pace myself, hydrate properly or ready the nutrition for the day, Denise was the “man.”  (thanks Eva). ...

My daughter Natalie is my guest blogger.  This is her account of the 5k we ran together today I just ran my SEVENTH 5k!   Before the race, I got my hair sprayed with neon pink and green and orange.   I got face paint on my cheeks.   It says, “I <3 GOTR”.   That means Girls on the Run.   I didn’t practice with Girls on the Run this year, but my mom and I wanted to do it for ‘Lu Monday’.   Lu Monday is when my mom and I spend time together.   Usually it is on a Monday, but we both made an exception. During the race, Mom wanted to start near the front.    I wanted to see what I could do without her, so I started near the back.   I didn’t want to get run over and I didn’t want Mom’s help. For the first mile, I mostly ran, but I eventually got a cramp and started walking.   During the second mile, once I saw the water, I took a sip and walked a little so I wouldn’t get another cramp.   Then I RAN!   Mom...

I’m not only physically, but I’m emotionally tired.  My husband often tells me that I don’t stop moving.  “just sit down”, “enough”,  “dial it back”, “stop”.  But, I don’t.  I’m lost without my to-do lists, my calendars, and my training log.  I have two insanely busy kids, and I’ve been racing my butt off.  I’m tired.  Very, very tired. On the way to the Segahunda marathon (okay, the sticker says 26.3, so I guess it’s an ultra) I decided that I just didn’t want to run.   Not that I didn’t want to run Segahunda, I just plain didn’t want to run. For me, it’s a very clear sign that I’m over-training. What got me to the starting line was that I was meeting a bunch of people from work.   These are people that I not only see everyday, but who have truly crossed over the line from co-workers to friends.   Most were doing the relay, so a half-marathon for each of them.   For several, it was their first trail race.   ...