When all your luck is bad...

I am so mad at myself!

I wanted to have a goal race on which to set my sights. About a month ago, I picked the Houston Marathon. I chose that particular race because I needed to go to Houston anyway to meet with 2 colleagues of mine with whom I did research studies this past summer at Badwater and Western States. One doc is from Houston, the other from the east coast, and of course, I am from the west coast. So, Houston was the perfect place to meet for a few days in the middle of winter. So, I booked my flight and hotel room, and even convinced David to route his business trip home from California through Houston so he could run with me.

Thing is, I didn't register for the race. I waited. I didn't want to risk being disappointed again if I couldn't pull it together before the race. You see, it's happened 3 times already where I'd register for a race and hope... and then some other injury would flare up and I wouldn't be able to run, or in the last case, I was in a car accident, hit by an uninsured motorist. Just my luck.

So, since I'd been feeling not only hopeful but also confident that I could do the distance safely, I decided to register for this race. I repressed the thoughts that kept trying to sneak into my conscience that I was jinxing myself by signing up. I just didn't want to be disappointed again. That, of course, sucks more than not even entering.

So, I got on line this morning to register. Oh boy, I was feeling good! A little nervous, but still, good. And the website was unusually slow and quirky. So, I "refreshed" a couple of times... and then the big ass words "The Houston Marathon is now SOLD OUT but you can still register for the 5k" came up on the screen!!! What!? I couldn't believe it! I swear to the ultra gods that the 15,000th person JUST clicked "enter" as I logged onto the site! I was devastated!

I even called to beg for an entry -- maybe there was a mistake or something...(I've never even considered doing such a groveling thing before). Of course, they said no way. So, now I am going to Houston, my husband is also going (and of course, he registered for the race a month ago), and now I can't even run it! Argh.

I'm not sure what to do. I'm struggling between saying "Screw it all....I might as well give up this running thing" and "Grow up, Lisa, it's not that big a deal....just find another race and fork out some more money for travel and time off work, etc." Why could I not just register early with hopes that THIS time everything will work out? You see, I am a skeptic and I play it "safe" and I am now missing out because of it. There are times I wish I were optimistic. That said, I am also a realist, and truth is, though, it's really NOT a big deal. It's just a race. I'll get over it quick and figure out what to do.

So, maybe tomorrow I will look for another marathon. Maybe I won't. I don't know. It's too late tonight and I'm just too tired from work to make decisions.

So, whatever! That's about all I can say about my luck these days.

"Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose." - Janis Joplin

You know when you start fantasizing about running again that you are truly coming back. I realize that there are times recently -- say, when a certain "running song" comes on the radio -- that I will picture myself running in that blissful zone. I can picture the repetitive strides, just clipping the miles away. I can remember what it's like to zen, which was something I had come to know, depend on, and ultimately, take for granted. For so many months, nearly the entire year, I simply could not imagine what it felt like to really run. I just couldn't do it. Sure, I tried, but it made me feel sick, an unsettling visceral emptiness. Now, I once again find my mind drifting toward those pleasant thoughts and feelings of running. I can see my feet glide over the road, feel my emotions soar, experience what I know it is like to run and run and run, seemingly forever. I can even see in my mind my upcoming races despite my tentative entries.

It is sooo good to be back to running, physically, mentally and spiritually. It is my religion. I was lost and am now again found.

Treadmill dog

Nothing is better than working out in the morning with the family! Steely ran for an hour on the treadmill while I worked out on the elliptical machine and David pumped cables on the Bowflex. I'm ready to start my day back to work.

Back in the running

It is so nice to be back running again. It's been a long year with injury after injury since my ankle ligament surgery in December 2005. Other than Uncle Joe's 50k in September, I haven't run any ultras this year. I recovered from the ankle surgery just fine, but every time I increased my mileage a bit, I thought I could increase it a LOT. I forgot the advice "enjoy in moderation." Finally, things are coming around. Last week I ran a 15.5 mile hilly run at an 8:15 pace, followed by 3 miles the next day and 9 the next. Finally, I felt I had graduated to running with my husband and friends again! In fact, they were the slow ones!

Since I had time off work this week like most other people, I had some time to put in some miles. BUT I had to remember to restrain myself. And I did. And it went well. I ran 4 miles Thursday, 18 slow miles on Friday, and then I made myself take Saturday off. Today, I ran another 10+ with David and Dennis and Steely. I feel fine tonight! The ankle always lets me know it's not 100% after I run, but a little icing always cures the grumbling.

Today was cold, cold, cold! We've been lucky with the warm weather so far, but the wind picked up and the snow started and stuck to the ground. My hands froze during our run, as usual in the cold. Still, I couldn't complain. I am back in the running and am so grateful for it.

David and I put up our Christmas tree and wreaths and did a little decorating. Not much; we're simplistic.

Tim runs 100 miles for his sister

Tim is a friend of mine. I was with him for hours at the medical headquarters in Death Valley at the 2005 Badwater Ultramarathon. He ended up having to drop because his kidneys weren't processing fluids well. He vowed to return in 2006 to finish the 135-mile road race through the 130 degree temps in Death Valley, California.

And that he did! But not without the help of his family who crewed for him.

About a month after the race, Tim called me to tell me that his sister Wendy, who crewed for him at Badwater, died shortly after the race from a blood disorder called TTP - Thrombotic Thrombocytopenic Purpura. He told me about Wendy and how much of a fighter she was. He told me she was one of the toughest people he knew. He was stricken by her death.

Tim decided to do something in honor of his sister and raise money for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. He decided to run 100-miles in her honor. And on Thursday, November 17th, he ran from Clark County Fire Station 18 in Las Vegas, NV (where he is captain) to Fire Station 74 in Overton, NV via the North Shore Road along Lake Mead. He followed up that 73.8 mile distance by running the Valley of Fire Marathon (26.2 miles) the next day for an even 100 miles.

His total time for the 100 miles was about 27:15. He left Station 18 at 7:15 am Thursday and arrived at Station 74 in Overton at 4:45 am Friday. This was a few hours longer than he planned (he had hoped to break 24 hours) but unexpected knee pain knee at mile 50 caused him to have to walk the last 20 miles. To make it even tougher, the temperature dropped into the low 30's in the wee hours of the morning. (cold for Las Vegas residents, warm for us Washingtonians!) He said, "There was some major unplanned suffering going on (I guess that's supposed to happen when you run for a charity?)." After his 73.8 mile jaunt on Friday, Tim finished the Valley of Fire Marathon on Saturday in 5:41. He said said of his finish, "Having many family members there, it was an emotional finale."

Please take a moment to watch this excellent news video about Tim's run for his sister:

http://www.fox5vegas.com/video/10337250/index.html

Also, please check out Tim's website:

http://www.active.com/donate/ltnLasVe/2006_timkjenstad

Way to go, Tim! I'll see you at Badwater again in 2007.

Love, Lisa

Turkey baby!

My friend Magy and her husband Eric had their first baby yesterday at 6:12 am. Three weeks ahead of the projected due date, she gave birth to a healthy 6 pound, 15 ounce baby girl! She and Eric are still deciding on a name. They thought they had three more weeks! Right now, they're calling her their little "turkey."

Congratulations, Magy & Eric!!

Restraint

One of the toughest things about being an ultrarunner is not running long distances through winding trails with jagged rocks and undulating terrain in rain or snow or sweltering heat for hours and days on end. It's not the mental challenge of persevering through the 20-mile long wall between miles 60 and 80 in a 100-mile race. It's not the muscle pain or tendon pain or the gut pain so commonly encountered. It's not the pressing on when every part of you wants to quit.

The toughest thing about being an ultrarunner is knowing restraint, knowing when not to run, when not to push. It's holding back when your cells are jittery and wanting to go. Whether it's injury or fatigue or other life responsibilities that need attention, there are times when an ultrarunner should simply not run long distances.

I've made the mistake of unrestraint several times this year. I do not want to repeat the mistake again. It is very difficult - extremely difficult for me - to practice restraint and to ease back a little at a time. I hope I have abolished forever the notion that if I am physically able to run 5 miles, then I am physically able to run 30. The truth is that I can, and that's what gets me into trouble. I suffer for it later. Just because I can doesn't mean I should. I am learning restraint. It takes more effort for me to not run than for me to run. It is mentally and physically fatiguing. This is one of the toughest things about being an ultrarunner.