Studying the Past; Defining the Future

Life can only be understood backwards,  but it must be lived forwards.
                                                                 -Kierkegaard


One of my wish-it-could-happen-but-never-will-so-don't-get-your-hopes-up goals for 2014 is to be more efficient, and I thought I would jump right in with an efficient blog post combining a look back at 2013 with a look ahead to 2014. Some people say efficiency is just another word for laziness, but other people say "work smarter, not harder." Besides, if I don't combine the posts, at the rate I'm going, you won't hear about my 2014 goals until 2015.

If I were a coach talking about a team, I'd say 2013 was a rebuilding year. Of course, we all know what that's code for.

I had some mysterious health problems and not a lot of focused training. It was not a spectacular year of racing. I was explaining this to a friend when my husband interrupted.

"Didn't you run a marathon PR this year?"

Uh ... oh yeah.

It's a good thing I have someone in my life to help me keep perspective.

So with that, here are some of the highlights (both good and bad) of 2013:


Eugene Marathon

The week before this seemingly miraculous PR, I also ran a course PR at the Escape From Prison Hill half marathon - a race I've run probably five or six times. So the takeaway - apparently I was in good speed shape. I managed a 3:11 marathon (an 8 minute PR) on pretty low-mileage training. Three cheers for track intervals! Not only did I feel awesome throughout the race, but I got to spend a beautiful weekend with my dear friend, Charlie. Also interesting: the highlight of my year running-wise came only three months in. It was so long ago, no wonder I forgot it happened in 2013!

Red-faced, happy 3:11 marathoner!

Spring and Summer Races and Adventure Runs

I followed up Eugene with another year at Reno's awesome Silver State 50K. There was plenty that bore mentioning about that race, like sharing several enjoyable miles with the lovely Katie Trent (who, by the way, blew by me in the last 5 miles to kick my butt!), and teaming up with another woman to push each other on the final 10 miles of downhill. However, among other ways that I was a slacker, I didn't do a lot of blogging this year, so no race report.

I didn't write a report for Utah's Squaw Peak 50M either. Nonetheless, it was a highlight because it was my first race in Utah, my first time in the Wasatch, and a perfect destination race to enjoy with my best friend. In fact, Jamie and I ended up running most of that race together, which is another reason it makes the highlight reel. In addition to being a challenging and beautiful race, I also experienced probably the best aid station treat I'd ever had at the first aid station - pigs in a blanket with fresh cooked pancakes and sausages doused in maple syrup. Oh my God. So. Good.

This year at the Tahoe Rim Trail 50M did not disappoint, of course. Heat, friends, and a mad finishing dash for a Western States qualifier. An excellent day, followed by a night of aid station volunteering for the 100 mile runners. I did manage to put together a race report for this one!



The Summer of Joy

This was the first summer in 10 years as a teacher that I did not pick up a summer job. The plan was to spend as much time with family as possible, and boy did we! My sister took to calling it the Summer of Joy, and it was awesome. A week in Yosemite, a week at the beach in Monterey, a week visiting family in Seattle, a trip to Minnesota for Andrew's HS reunion, and another week in SoCal. Whew! My only complaint is that it all went by too fast.

Laura, me, Jamie, at Mirror Lake, Yosemite.

High country long run with Jamie in Yosemite. I swear the twin outfits were not planned!!

Gettin' high on Yosemite granite with my sweetie.

Road ride along Monterey Bay.

Brugman Family Jam at the beach house.

Kite flying available here, all week long.

Surf's up! Sis and I head for some beginner breaks. 

Kayaking the Elkhorn Slough. So much fun with up close encounters with playful sea otters!

Birdwatching beachside with sis.

Family portrait at the beach house.

Ian and me playing wave tag. Best game ever! The goal was not to get wet, but we figured out it was way more fun if we just let the wave get us.

Campfire on the beach!

Campfire in the backyard! (In Truckee)

Road trip! Truckee -->Seattle

Seattle! (You can tell because it's raining.)

Family reunion in Seattle. That's a lot of Brugmans!

Seattle -->Truckee. Dad flew us home, so no road trip this time.

Shakespeare on the lake, Tahoe. An excellent version of A Midsummer Night's Dream.

Truckee Thursdays!

High school reunion, Edina, MN.

The Year of Living Painfully

If the best part of last year was the Summer of Joy, it was countered by the worst part: a continuation of the mysterious abdominal pain that has plagued me periodically since just before Hardrock in 2012. I learned a lot of things this year, even if the answer to my problem still eludes me. I learned a ton about nutrition, a little about alternative medicine, and more than I ever wanted to know about the digestive system. I also learned how important it is to have good health insurance. Thank goodness mine is good!

The long and the short of the story is that we are still monitoring the situation and are without any definitive answers, although a lot of things have been ruled out. I spent a lot of time getting tests - blood tests, upper endoscopy, ultrasound, more blood tests, another ultrasound. Probably more blood tests; I can't remember. I met my deductible and my out of pocket maximum on my insurance. Fun stuff. Then I finished off the year with surgery to remove a fibroma from my abdominal wall. Super fun.

But! I feel fine at the moment, even though I'm pretty sure my problem isn't solved. I'm running well and just appreciating each pain free day as it comes.



Looking ahead to 2014 -

It's funny how the ultra season seems so far away, and then, in the first couple weeks of December, your calendar is suddenly packed. In spite of some lingering health questions, I was still anxious to get back on the 100 mile horse. I made it through the lottery for San Diego 100, and the rest of my races fell in line nicely to lead up to it. Here's what I've got on the schedule:

Way Too Cool 50K (March 8th)
Lake Sonoma 50M (April 12th)
Miner's Revenge 26M (April 27th)
San Diego 100 (June 7)
TRT 50M (July 19)


And of course, I'll probably do the Silver State 50M to help with San Diego training, but I want to wait until all the Ultrasignup charges fade from my husband's mind before throwing another one on the credit card. December is tough on the pocket book, man!

Although I feel a bit more serious about my racing than I did last year, I'm still trying to keep my overall goals focused on other things - taking care of my health, spending time with family, and appreciating every day, even when I don't accomplish all the things I'd like.

That last one is a nod to my lack of creative outlets in 2013. I didn't write much, I only played guitar when my sister was around, and I didn't knit a single stitch. I simply had to re-prioritize a lot of the time, but the truth is, those creative outlets really help me. They help keep me from feeling frustrated and anxious. They help me focus. They fulfill some of the same job that running does for me. They make me happy! So I'm planning to do a bit more of those things in 2014, even if it's just a tiny bit, and to still appreciate and enjoy the days when I can't find the time.

I hope to see many of you out there at races. I'll be volunteering and cheering at the local races I'm not running (except TRT, where, of course, I'll be doing both), so please look for me out there, and tell me how your year is going!


Happy 2014, everyone!

The Pace of Nature: Pre-race Thoughts on the Tahoe Rim Trail 100

Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience. - Ralph Waldo Emerson


Walking into the yoga studio at the Tahoe Yoga and Wellness Center is like walking into a room full of calm. The empty room feels slightly warm with leftover energy from the previous class. Bare feet connect softly with the smoothness of the bamboo floor, and yoga mats are quietly rolled out toward the center of the room. This is my favorite part of cross training, and an essential part of my taper. My yin yoga practice is the savasana (final meditation pose) to my season of training.

In Monday’s class I was struck by a number of comments from the instructor. These are the same remarks, more or less, that he makes in every class, but this time they seemed to me to hold a sharp relevance to the act of running a hundred miles.

In yin practice, the postures are very passive and held for several minutes at a time. Thus, it takes special effort to contain the mind, to keep it from wandering, to stay present. My teacher spoke of the freedom of presence. It struck me as odd at first that something so challenging—staying present—could hold freedom, until I realized that staying present simply means letting go of everything else—all the other cares, worries and responsibilities that are outside the current moment. That freedom was something I also found in the last, painful miles of my previous 100 mile run at TRT. It was a fearful way to discover how to appreciate the moment, which I’m certain is what made it so rewarding.

He also spoke of having acceptance, no judgment, and of simply acknowledging what is there and allowing it to be. These may not sound like important ideas for running, but I think they are critical to dealing with things like pain and fear—things I’m certain to encounter when running a hundred miles.

Last month, when I came crashing down on my ankle and everything else subsequently crashed down around me, I spent the long limp home doing some serious thinking. I thought about what was really important in my life, and asked myself what were the things I wanted most desperately. It turned out, running a bad-ass 100-miler wasn’t even on the list. It was a good dose of healthy perspective.

Sometimes though, it feels like the only thought on my brain for the past six months has been what will happen this Saturday. I realize this is in large part because it is much easier for me to focus my thoughts and actions on an attainable goal rather than on the more difficult questions of life.

So, as Saturday approaches, I am still asking myself what I want out of this experience. Why am I going to this race? Is it for a challenge? A sense of accomplishment? Always, I hold this sense within me of needing, wanting, pushing for something more. Something. Sometimes I think I know what that something is, and other times that’s the whole point—to figure it out. At least running is one something that I know how to do.

I’d like to take some lessons from the past year and focus a little less on the concrete goals contained in numbers—numbers that tell time, splits, pace, place. Numbers that tell good or bad. I’d like to focus a little more on the abstract this time around. I’d like to be present, without judgment or expectations. I’d like to accept my best effort for whatever it is. I’d like to experience the freedom of letting go of everything but the run itself. I’d like to channel the calmness of the yoga studio, to bring that meditative state to the trail and balance out the excessive motion of running—the perfect harmony of yin and yang.

In a positive state of mind: TRT 50M 2009

Think More, Run Less

This past weekend was my first big race of the season, the American River 50. When I say “was,” I don’t just mean that the race itself is over. I mean that the idea of it being my first race of the season is also a thing of the past. I was a big, fat DNS at AR50.

My intention for this race was purely to use it as training, to get big miles in the month of April. I’d planned to follow it up with the Diablo Marathon the following weekend to ensure that I indeed wouldn’t take it too seriously. Unfortunately, Diablo got cancelled, and in searching for a replacement race, I came up with the Leona Divide 50. (What’s an additional 24 miles at this point, right?) Although plenty of people have questioned my plan for back-to-back 50’s, I have every confidence in my ability to take “races” as training runs, and I think it would have worked out beautifully. If I had been healthy. (And here’s where “unfortunately” starts to become my repetitive word of the day.)

As it turns out, I seem to be having a posterior tibial tendon issue. (I’d put in the actual, technical term where I have substituted the word “issue,” but I don’t think I could spell it.) To be honest, this is an issue that has plagued me for over two years, and no amount of time off seems to find any improvement. Unfortunately, the past few weeks have seen a marked increase on the pain scale, mostly likely due to increasing my weekly mileage fairly quickly.

It’s been enough to motivate me (at last!) to find an excellent physical therapist, and I’ve learned a whole lot about what is going on with my body. I’ll do my best to spare you the mind-numbing details, because the truth is, I don’t even enjoy trying to wrap my brain around it all. I’ll keep it to the basics so that we don’t all fall asleep here.

First, I love my physical therapist. He came recommended from a wise friend, so I guess it shouldn’t surprise me, but I have a really hard time trusting people in general, and especially when it comes to my running. Because, you see, I know everything. No one knows more than I, and woe to anyone who tries to tell me what to do. But this PT and I, we are on the exact same page. He has a very balanced approach, doesn’t think I’m crazy, and doesn’t necessarily think time off is always the answer. He makes sense out of a complicated picture, and he seems to approach things in much the same way that I do. Obviously he’s brilliant.

Second, I have learned that one of my legs is fully half an inch longer than the other, and this seems to be causing no small number of problems for me. The end result of all of this is that I am currently involved in the process of re-learning how to run. There’s a lot more to it than that, but that’s what it boils down to for me, and I hate it. I have to spend so much time thinking.

Thinking!

Running long distance, and trail running especially, has never been about thinking for me. It’s been the place where I have been the most free, the most at peace. In the past I have always felt in tune with my body while running, and it’s a part of the experience that I really enjoy. Lately though, we’re speaking through translators. It’s time now for me to learn the foreign language of my dysfunctional mechanics.

I know in the end, when I am healthy again, it will be worth it, but right now it’s tedious to think about every little detail of what I am doing when I run. It’s not a fun place to be when the thing that is normally a remedy for stress, becomes its main source. My love affair with running is definitely “on a break.”

So, while I’m grateful to be still running, I’ve taken many days off in an attempt to rest this inflamed tendon. The week before AR, I was out on a 30 mile trail run. At about mile 27, the complaints emanating from my tendon increased sharply in volume. It wasn’t a bad run, but it certainly caused me to question the wisdom of two 50-mile runs in a row, and the subsequent stress of this questioning made for some sleepless nights.

One lesson I learned (and will probably have to relearn many more times) is that it’s generally the indecision itself that causes the most stress. Once I decided running AR would constitute complete idiocy (although I’m fully capable of idiocy, I assure you), it was only a day before I got over the depression of my DNS and started to feel pretty good about the decision.

At this point, I’m looking at this weekend’s upcoming Leona Divide and feeling pretty excited about it. It’s a brand new race for me, and I haven’t run a new ultra in a few years. Unlike AR, it’s all on trail (much more my style), and it’s on the PCT. If you don’t know, I have a long-standing romance with the Pacific Crest Trail. Perhaps one day I’ll spend some time to wax poetic on that topic, but for now just know that I am thoroughly excited about the prospect of my first race on this trail. I’m still not taking a real taper (although the last few weeks of lower mileage have me more rested than I really should be), but without the AR50 teaser, this won’t be the “survival on dead legs” that I’d originally imagined. I’m going in with a conservative mindset, knowing I may have to back off if the tendon flares up, but also knowing that I’m pretty excited to get out there for an early season test of fitness.


Here are a few pictures from my last two weekends of running, and from yesterday’s powder day with Andrew. You can see how I have the best of both worlds in terms of getting both alpine adventures, and still finding dirt within a reasonable drive.

Newt!

Castle Peak

Climbing Donner Peak

Top of The Lake Run

Preparing to drop in

A Mid-Season Check-In

Good morning, everyone. Please take out your portfolios to review for a mid-term reflection and self-assessment.

To begin, I’ll revisit this past weekend. Then we’ll take a quick peek at past races this season, those yet to be run, and goals. (Raise your hand if you think this will be another ridiculously long post.)

Frog Creek 10 Mile Trail Run and The Epic Link-Up

Last weekend I ran in the first annual Frog Creek Trail Run here in Truckee. It took place on a beautiful and challenging course on Donner Summit. I had the pleasure of running most of the 10 miles with Turi, who came up from Reno for the race. You should definitely check out his race report, which includes some great pictures!

I was happy to see many familiar faces from my neighborhood--many folks who don’t typically log numerous miles running, but were there to support the cause. After the race, we all sat around in big adirondack chairs on the forested grounds of the lodge eating fresh grilled burgers, sipping local brews and listening to some live, acoustic music. Hey, I think I just described my perfect day!

View of Lake Angela on the Frog Creek course. Photo courtesy of Turi

Sunday I had a planned “the epic link-up” for my official last day of summer vacation. I would run out my front door, through the woods to the Tahoe Donner Trail system, follow the Donner Lake Rim Trail, connect to the PCT over Donner Summit, then turn off at Tinker’s Knob to run through Coldstream Canyon, and follow that home. I figured it would be about 30 miles. Phenomenal trail running, no driving required.

Anderson Ridge (on the PCT) viewed from Tahoe Donner

Rocky running on the Donner Lake Rim Trail

Unfortunately, Cap was having an off day. It was clear in the first 3 miles of the run that it wasn’t going to be a good day for him to go 30. I spent most of the run worried about him, and allowing my brain to spin over all the zillion things I had to do for school and should have been doing instead of running. I called Andrew to come rescue Cap when we reached Donner Summit. We had already run 18 miles, and I knew we had at least 15 to go, maybe more.

My spirits were low, and the prospect of a 33-35 mile day felt burdensome. That wasn’t how I wanted to feel about this run, which I’d been so excited about planning. When Andrew showed up, I joined Cap in the car and headed home. I felt disappointed, but I knew it would happen another day.

My Season so Far

My year started out with a beautiful race on the coast, the Surf City Marathon. I’d chosen to switch things up a bit this year by running a road race, and I think it was a good call. I needed to get a little speed back in my life. I am definitely a trail runner, but I had a blast at Surf City!

All of my spring races were training runs, and it was great to get in all that social running time without feeling too competitive. All the racing helped keep things fun and interesting. By summer, everything was geared toward TRT 50, and I felt stoked about my race there.

In stark contrast to how I felt after last year’s 100, I felt inspired after TRT this year. My training in August somehow fell into place without even having a training plan. Mileage was good, quality was excellent, and it seemed that every weekend I ran a new trail in another beautiful location.

Castle Peak, viewed from Andesite Peak during a run on the DLRT and Hole in the Ground Trail

On the numbers, I finished in the top 5 women in seven races. I feel pretty good about that, even though I am well aware that a number of those races were quite small.

Where I go From Here

My final race of the year, the Helen Klein 50 Mile, is my main focus. At the moment, I feel totally ready to tackle my goal of running sub-8 for the distance. Unfortunately, the race isn’t until October 31st. With school starting, and my schedule looking extremely tight, I’m primarily worried about losing fitness between now and then.

I’ve tried to plan some races in September with the hopes of using them to stay in shape. Plans are still a bit up in the air right now, however. I’d love to do the Lake of the Sky/Tioga Road double, but I just can’t imagine driving all the way to Lee Vining, running a road right up to the entrance of Yosemite, and not having time (or energy!) to go into the park and run trails. I’ve been considering skipping Lake of the Sky for some additional running on Tuolumne trails, but I’m also starting to question the wisdom of leaving town at all on the first weekend after the start of school. I’m torn.

I’m excited about running the Lake Tahoe Marathon for the first time in many years. I used to love this race, until I swore off road races. (These promises never last, do they?) I’ve never been in shape for this race, except when I ran it as part of the Tahoe Triple, and even though it will just be a training run, I’m hoping for a course PR. I think my best time is around 4:07, and that did come on day three of the Triple. It’s not a fast course, but I should definitely be able to break that time.

So, with that, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I don’t go from feeling like a bad-ass to feeling like a lard-ass in the next two months before Helen Klein. Then it will be time for a nice long nap.

Thank you for indulging me in this all-things-Gretchen post! (It wasn’t too long, right?)

Big, Fun and Scary Adventures in 2009

It’s odd how I tend to take a hiatus from my blog in the winter. The cold sets in, and I retreat to hibernation and start baking things. I can only take comfort in the hope that this break is over, and the knowledge that it was shorter than those in years past. Sometimes I feel that if I’m not running, then I don’t have anything to say that’s appropriate to this blog. In reality that’s not true, and besides, I am running. Still, it’s winter, and I’ve been…distracted. Okay, maybe lazy is the more appropriate adjective, but whatever. I’m here now, and I can only be grateful that you, my friend, are still here as well.

Some notes on the running front: I have managed to do some training in spite of the snow, ice, and, oh yeah, laziness. My mileage has consistently fallen short of weekly goals. (Let’s hear it for consistency!) Quality has been good though, and I am enjoying myself. That’s about all I ask of my running in the winter. Mix in some incredible backcountry skiing, and I’m calling it a good season so far.

This generally seems to be a time of year for reflection and goal setting. Well, I don’t plan to shake up the paradigm too much here. I’ll save reflection for next week, since this post is all about goal setting.

I have to start my goal-setting pontification with a little background. Several years ago, my friend Charlie called me with a proposition that we should embark upon this project called NaNoWriMo, whereupon we would write an entire novel in 30 days.

Sound scary? What about big, or fun? Okay, if it sounds nuts, you may fall into the majority, but I thought it was brilliant.

NaNoWriMo, the better-known name for the National Novel Writer’s Month, dares participants to complete a novel of at least 50,000 words in 30 days. The main premise is that we, as writers, want to write a book, but we lack sufficient motivation to actually finish this seemingly enormous task. Apparently many writers are like me: procrastinators. I loved the idea of NaNoWriMo because it operates on the principle that we just need motivation, in the form of a deadline, to get out that first draft. We can beautify it later, we just need to keep going for now. Don’t worry about being brilliant, just keep writing. Don’t stop! Constant forward motion! Sound familiar?

In my first attempt at NaNoWriMo, I wrote about 18,000 words before I gave up. It was a valiant attempt, and although the book is complete tripe, it was a great experience and it's still the single longest piece of writing I've done since college. (Wrimo'ers believe in art for art's sake. Yay!)

In my second attempt, this past November, I basically gave up before I even started. I knew I wouldn’t finish in 30 days, but I wanted to participate anyway. I wanted that motivation that comes from being part of a large group of people all working towards the same goal. The NaNoWriMo website has some great support features, and I got encouraging emails all month long from famous authors. Pretty cool, actually.

So this brings me to my point, and the explanation for the title of this post. The creators of NaNoWriMo also sponsor a challange called Big, Fun, and Scary Adventures. If you choose to participate, you can take whatever goal you have for the year, share it, and basically let others track your progress. You choose what you want to do—hike the Pacific Crest Trail, build a house, run your first 100 miler, start a business, go back to school, propose marriage, whatever! Let me just emphasize that it should be Big, Fun and Scary to you! So I don’t want to hear anything like “get organized” or “lose 10 pounds.” Those are resolutions, and those are fine. But for this project, I want you to dream BIG!

I’m not overly fond of the discussion forum for this project, found here, but you can take a look and choose to post your goal if you’d like. What I’m really asking you to do is to share your goal with us here on my blog! Please post a comment, and if you’d like, you can write your own blog post about what you plan to do with your year. Post it on your website, update your Facebook status, and plaster it to the front door for all your neighbors to see. If you share it with the world, you’re so much more likely to actually do it! We will be here along the way to check in with you and offer as much (or as little) support, advice, help and distraction as you may need. So tell me, what is that thing you’ve been dreaming of, the one that is a little bit scary, that you keep putting off because it’s just not the right time?

As you may have guessed, I already have my big adventure planned. I’m going to finish the book I started this November. I have a paltry 2600 words at the moment, but I am also armed with a stack of character sketches and plot outlines and the like, and that has to count for something, right? Anyway, I figure writing a book is much like running an ultra. You don’t want to spend too much time thinking about exactly how far you have to go or you’ll scare yourself out of doing it. You want to break it into smaller, more manageable goals.

Therefore, my goal for now through the end of March is to write at least one page per day, every day. I followed this plan for approximately one week in November. While it’s not actually as easy as it sounds, it is still certainly manageable. (Again, let’s hear it for consistency!) After that, I will set the next goal that seems necessary to getting through a first draft. I’m hoping to have a first draft done by May.

Well, I’ve declared myself. (It’s a little scary, yup.)

I'd like to leave you with a quote from one of the final emails sent to writers by Chris Baty of NaNoWriMo. I think he says it very well. And then, I ask you to declare your dreams.

“Each of us has a wealth of talents spread broadly over domains both marketable and deliciously impractical. The tricky part is that we tend to develop the former at the expense of the latter. Passions become hobbies. Hobbies become something we swear we'll get back to when we have more time. Or when the kids are grown. Or when the stock market recovers.

Which means we leave unexplored many of those paths that ultimately make us feel most alive—the moments of creating, building, playing, and doing that lead to extraordinary and unexpected things.

Like writing a book.

Or, more loosely, postponing the must-dos of the real world to spend 30 days [or a year] exploring an attractive, improbable dream.

Giving ourselves that time is so important. Because the world can wait. It's what the world does best, in fact. It was hanging out for 4.5 billion years before we arrived, and it'll be waiting around for another few billion after we're gone.

Our dreams, however, have much shorter shelf-lives.

If there's one thing I've learned from running NaNoWriMo, it's this: Whatever you think you are, you are more than that. You possess a fearsome array of skills and abilities, and the most satisfying of these may be completely unknown to you now. Your curiosity is a dependable guide; follow it. Put yourself in unfamiliar places. Kindle passions. Savor the raw joy of making things, and then remake the best of those things until they take someone's breath away. Wrestle bears.

Actually, skip the bear-wrestling.

But do keep trying big things, okay? Sometimes we can wait so long for a clear sign that it's time to begin, that the opportunity sails right past us.

Life is so short. Adventures beckon. Let's get packed and head out on a new one today.

I think it's time.”