Belated Race Report - Orcas Island 25k

Finish line smile

I heard this race would be hard, but didn't realize the psychological toll it would have on me after it was over. Two months later I'm ready to share my race report. Enjoy

Training
I took three months to train for this race, which included weekly speed workouts, a medium-distance trail run (7-10 miles), gym cross training, hiking, weight lifting, and yoga. My weekly mileage was about 15 miles per week, which is super low when training for a 15 plus mile trail race. My training wasn't hard-core, but it got me in overall physical shape and I felt strong.

The Race
25 kilometers. 3500 feet elevation gain. ~3-4 miles of snow on the trail. ~40 degrees.

My racing strategy has always been pretty simple. I go out at a reasonable pace and then gradually speed up over time. I decided to change up my strategy for the Orcas 25k. I had two specific goals: 1) break 3:00:00 and 2) place as a top five female. My new strategy allowed me to accomplish both, but not without consequences.

5K's Are More Fun
I started out fast. Really fast. Within the first few miles my heart rate was high and my breathing was labored. At this point I questioned why I didn't just train and race 5ks. You run for ~20 minutes, finish, and go out to breakfast. I did my best to keep the first place woman in my sight, but eventually slowed down my pace. The race started out steep, so I had to slow down to avoid complete burnout early on.

A Marathon is Easier
At mile four I decided that training and running a marathon was way easier than this race. Maybe I should do another marathon.

Calf Cramps
Most of the trail was beautiful single-track forest duff, surrounded by conifers dotted with a few lakes and streams. The trail was covered with snow at mile 4, which lasted for miles through the ascent and decent of Mount Constitution. My calves were not conditioned to run uphill and downhill in snow, so both of them cramped up around mile 6, with approximately 9 miles to go. At this point my brain started to do funny things. I started silently swearing at the snow, but then immediately apologizing to it. When my calves continued cramping I started silently swearing at them, and then immediately sent them loving thoughts. I started to feel like I was going crazy.

Pushing myself physically, having physical pain (calf cramps), and racing a course that I didn't properly train for (I should have been running 10 - 15 miles on Cougar Mountain once per week), took me to a new mental and emotional place. I didn't have fun. I didn't get my runner's high. I felt physically taxed the entire time. So why did I keep pushing it?

I Am Insane
It was around mile 8 that I started to feel insane. I tried to check in with my body to see how I felt, emotionally and mentally. I found complete numbness, no feeling, and no emotions. I started to analyze my situation. Why was I running 15.5 miles up and down a mountain as fast as I could in January? I decided that only insane people do this; therefore, I was insane, as was everybody else doing the race. Accepting insanity as a reasonable answer, I gave a shot of love to my calves and picked up the pace. After a few minutes I again questioned my motives for doing this crazy race, and came back with, "This is just what you do. You are doing what you do. Run."

Victory
I gave the last two miles everything I had, which wasn't much. I was dehydrated and my electrolytes were low at the point, but I couldn't stomach anything at that point. As I turned the corner just 1/10 mile from the finish line some guy yelled out, "Go Caroline go!" I yelled back, "I'm going!" I had no idea who just yelled at me since Dan was home with a torn ACL. I ran to the finish with no gas, no kick, and no thoughts in my head. I came in 2 hours and 43 minutes after it all started as the fifth place female.

Dan traveled three hours to watch me for 10 seconds in a surprise race visit (major points for him). He and my friend Shannon met me at the finish line where I babbled about the insanity of the race I just ran.

The race wasn't fun. I didn't get a runner's high. I did overcome physical and mental pain to accomplish my goals. I did go to a crazy place in my mind. I did run 15.5 miles over a mountain in the snow on Orcas Island.

Epilogue
After two weeks of doing almost nothing I got the itch to race again. Long distance trail runs? No. A marathon? No.

My current passion is 5K road races....

Back on the Horse

Stepping off the Horse
I never truly fell off the horse. In reality I stepped off the horse, it kicked me lightly a few times, and I walked away. I think it was more like a pony than a horse.

I took a break from running. In August and September I went hiking, gardened, did yoga, went to Colorado for a week, and ate at potlucks and barbeques. I spent a lot of time floating on air mattresses on our lake. My friends and I discovered that floating on water equals pure bliss.

In October and November I had a minor medical procedure (which required no running for three weeks), got sick twice, went on a three-day yoga retreat, and took two rounds of antibiotics. I just started my third and final round, but am happy to report that I feel healthy. Really, I feel good.

Back on the Horse
I now consider myself to be back on the horse.

I'll be running the Orcas Island 25K at Moran State Park in the San Juan Islands on January 28th. It climbs 3500 feet and should be a great ass-kicker.

Training the Horse
Workouts on my carefully crafted 12-week training plan include: yoga, weight training, cross training (eliptical, biking, x-country skiing), hiking, and two to three specific running workouts per week. I haven't done everything planned for each week, but I'm working up to it. Three weeks in and I'm feeling strong.

Giddy up.

Free Pie Tastes Like Pie

Here is a math problem for you:

I paid a $30.00 entry free to run the Carnation Run for the Pies 5K race on 4th of July. I got 2nd in my age division and won a Remlinger Farms' pie (valued at $9.00). Is the pie still free?

I think so.

You Are Not Going to Win a Pie
"You know you are not going to win a pie," Dan said the night before the race. "I know," I said, " but it will still be fun to run it."

Dan's comment wasn't mean, it was realistic. I had just taken three weeks off after running the 25K trail race. Three weeks of no speed work, a little running, lots of resting, and attending potlucks. Also, my left hamstring was a little sore. Last year I placed 8th in my age group at the race. The top three in each age group win pies. So, Dan was right. If I ran the same time as last year with same women, I would not win a pie. But, this year I was lucky.

I Run for Pie
I warmed up for 30 minutes, ran the race six seconds faster than last year (21:59), and cooled down for 20 minutes. The race was fun and I felt really strong. Running a flat 5K (3.1 miles) after running a hilly 25K (15.5 miles) felt fast and easy. At mile two I couldn't believe I only had one more mile to run and thought about what Dan said the night before. "I'll prove him wrong," I thought, and picked up the pace, passed six women, and sped to the finish.

Happily Ever After
I called Dan a half hour after the race. "Guess who isn't getting any pie?" I asked him. "Thanks for the motivation. Your encouragement last night motivated me to run faster."

"I'll never doubt you again," he said. "We'll, I think I got lucky this time," I said.

I got my cherry pie, shared it with friends and Dan, and we lived happily ever after. Free pie tastes just like regular pie: delicious!

The End

Yes We Can

Raise $2,025 for the Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation in two months?

Yes we can.

Run 15.5 miles with 3,700 feet elevation gain in 2 hours 54 minutes and 24 seconds?

Yes I can.

Running The Rock

The Beacon Rock 25k was one of the most physically and mentally challenging races that I've ever run. It was also one of the most rewarding.

Dan and I ran together for the first two hours. I pointed out singing warblers and amazing Columbia Gorge views. He reminded me to breathe. I showed him the flowers. He pointed out the poison oak. We walked up the mountains. We flew down the mountains. We did this together.

My mantra stayed with me for the entire race: "Andy...cure...Andy...cure...Andy...cure, etc." When my quads burned, "Andy...cure." When my heart pounded, "Andy...cure." When I forgot that I was running a race, "Andy...cure."

At first, the mantra was just words to me. It kept me focused. But, 2 hours and 10 minutes into the race, something changed.

2 Hours 10 Minutes

My runner's high kicked in and I felt like a superhero. I saw a vision of what "Andy...cure" looked like. It meant working at the office instead of working from home. It meant hiking the trails of Beacon Rock on a sunny day enjoying the spring wildflowers. It meant living to see your great-grandchildren.

That's when I really started running for Andy.

At mile 12.8 I stopped to shake a rock out of my shoe. When I started running again I realized that the rock was in my sock. This is why trail runners have tiny gaiters. I gotta get a pair.

The Final Stretch

The last half mile stretch of the race included a 0.3 mile steep hill. My legs were shot and my body was fatigued. I wanted to walk, but I didn't. Looking ahead I realized that my hill would end, but Andy's fight with multiple myeloma would continue. I started to cry, but had to hold back tears so that I could breathe, and ran as fast as I could to the finish line.

Because I was healthy. Because I was strong. Because I believed that someday there will be a cure.

What's Next?
First, rest. I'll bike, swim, and do some yoga. After that I'll start hiking and running again.

And, a little later I'll run some more races. I'm hoping to win a pie at the Carnation 4th of July Run for the Pies 5K.

I think I'm in love with this trail running thing. I just might have to try a 50k race in the fall...

The Countdown Begins

Dan and I leave for Beacon Rock in a few hours. We'll be spending the night at the campground and start running tomorrow at 8:00 a.m.

I'm ready.

Thank your for all of your support. Together, we've raised $1,670 for the Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation to help find Andy a cure. That is incredible!

If you'd still like to donate, check out my fundraiser page at www.active.com/donate/triplec4mmrf. I'll keep it open for a few days after the race.

Tomorrow I'll be running from 8:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m., if everything goes according to plan. During the race I'll be keeping Andy and the hope for a cure for multiple myeloma in my thoughts. I encourage you to keep someone you know with cancer in your thoughts at this time as well.

This journey has been a powerful experience for me. I truly believe that each of us has the ability to change lives by getting outside of our routines and advocating for people that can use our support. We are all bigger than our individual selves. 

Andy and his wife Evonne will be joining us at Beacon Rock after the race on Sunday. Wow, what a gift. Dan and I will be trilled to see them after our run.

Caroline

Northwest wetlands specialist supports respected Ecology colleague

by Larry Altose, communications manager, Ecology Northwest Regional Office

Caroline Corcoran, a wetland specialist with Shorelands and Environmental Assistance Program at Northwest Regional Office, never expected she’d run up mountains to support a colleague. But, that’s how to train for the Beacon Rock 25k Trail Race, which she’ll run on June 12^th.

She’s running up the rock to support Andy McMillan, the science and policy manager for the agency’s Wetlands Technical Team. Andy lives with a rare form of cancer called multiple myeloma.

Caroline ran cross-country and track in high school, and continued in college with cross-country. Years after college, she stopped for three years due to several running injuries. Then she read Born to Run by Christopher McDougall, and ended her hiatus two years ago.

“I started listening to my body instead of listening to doctors,” she said. “I run just three times a week, max, mostly on soft surfaces. On the other days, I cross train. Variety keeps me healthy and injury-free.”

She ran her first marathon in October 2010 and decided that in her next big race she’d like to support somebody else. Andy seemed like a natural choice.

He’s been at his current post since 1991. Andy provides support, leadership and guidance to the wetland staff and is recognized by local governments, agency staff, policy makers and consultants as the agency’s voice on wetland policy and science.

“Andy can listen to conflicting viewpoints and create solutions that people agree on. While a consultant, before joining Ecology, I heard only respect for Andy from other consultants and local governments,” said Caroline. “When I came to Ecology four years ago, it was easy to see why Andy was so well respected and liked.”

Andy was diagnosed in 2005 with multiple myeloma (MM), a very complex cancer of the plasma cells in the bone marrow, considered incurable. Andy’s doctors judged him a poor candidate for a stem cell transplant, the primary treatment, because he has a very aggressive form of the disease. Fortunately, recently available chemotherapy drugs control MM’s growth in most patients.

Andy has fared better than his doctors originally expected. Even so, he has a significantly compromised immune system and must continue chemotherapy to control the MM. Unfortunately, MM adapts very quickly to resist chemotherapy agents. He hopes to can keep the MM in check until new drugs in late-stage trials become available in the next year or so.

“I chose to run the Beacon Rock race to support Andy and the multiple myeloma research because I heard that the Columbia River Gorge is one of Andy’s favorite places,” Caroline said. “Also, to me running trails mimics life. You have ups, downs, get rained on, see sun, get muddy, fall down and get back up. Trail running feels real to me.”

The Beacon Rock race will feel especially real, with its elevation gain of 3,700 feet over 25 kilometers.

"Supporting Andy puts my training in perspective," Caroline muses. "When running up a mountain feels hard I think of Andy. I take vitamin pills to stay healthy. He takes pills to stay alive. I believe that supporting this life-saving research helps find a cure for Andy. I am grateful that I have the ability to help somebody else by doing something that I love."

Taper Time

It's less than four days until the Beacon Rock 25k Trail Race! This week's training has been about staying active and flexible without pushing myself too hard.

My Taper
Tapering refers to reducing the amount of exercise before a race, so that you are in prime condition on race day. There are all sorts of formulas out there for doing the perfect taper for different race types and events. I'm not concerned with finding the perfect model for this trail run. I just want my legs to feel rested so that they can take the 3700 feet of elevation gain without too much discomfort.

Yoga, Elliptical, Arc Trainer, and moderate-paced runs are my go-to workouts this week. Physically, I'm feeling great.

My Strategy
I've been thinking about my race strategy. This will be my first trail race. I've done lots of road races of short to medium-length and a marathon last fall. All the races I've done have had some ups and downs, but nothing compared to the course I'll be running on Sunday. I've talked to a few experienced trail and ultra marathoners, who encourage walking hills. As many competitive runners know, it feels shameful to walk during a race. I still remember the few times in high school and college cross country when I walked part of the course due to a side cramp or injury.

Apparently, this is a different kind of race, and I think I like it.

My Intention
Though I have my taper and race strategy down, my intention is more important.

My intention is to race for Andy and the Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation.

This is bigger than my fatigued legs and burning lungs. Bigger than my ego and pride. Bigger than my competition with others.

Your Support
You've supported me through donations, words of encouragement, reading my blog, and being my friend. Your support keeps me present with my intention.

There is still time to donate: www.active.com/donate/triplec4mmrf

Namaste.