Lake Erie 2, Alene 0: National Championships at North Coast 24 Hour Fall 2014

North Coast 24 is one of those races with a character of its own.

It's subtle, but there’s a unique understated charm. It's well-organized, and has a definite following of locals, and it has a way of growing on you, even on this westerner at heart who loves mountains and small cities, not big urban messes with sketchy downtowns and crowds of people.

Being in downtown Cleveland might as well be another country or planet to me. One of my former patients used to work in law enforcement and warned me before my first trip to Cleveland, “When you're in Cleveland, just shoot, and walk away."

It's hard to find your way around downtown in a modernized but also partially decaying cityscape where the streets don't make any sense. To visit the downtown areas shops and restaurants you have to park first. In between lightposts, trash cans, fire hydrants, there are very few scattered parking meters which force you to find parking garages, the entrances to which are inhabited by panhandlers.

And then trying to get out of the parking garage is another adventure. We thought we were going to witness a crime scene there when an impatient driver in front of us was getting pissed off at the first car in line. The guy just lifted the barricade up and out of his way instead of paying for parking.

I ran here in spring of 2013 and at the time I didn’t think I’d come back. Not that there was anything wrong with the race, it was just that I couldn’t see traveling all that way when I could find something closer to home. But then it was announced that the 24 hour national championships would be there, and I wanted not only a competitive race, but a chance to hit my 120 mile goal.

I missed last year’s nationals due to a hamstring injury, but it also happened to fall about three weeks before I quit my job, so I was about as stressed as I’ve ever been and wouldn’t have been a good time to race anyway.

The thing about North Coast 24 Hour is that it’s next to fickle Lake Erie with crazy weather and wind. Talking with Joe Fejes earlier this year about races, he advised me to seek a fast race or a track for my 120 mile goal, because he felt North Coast was a difficult venue, and the weather was unpredictable.

I knew about the weather from my first experience there, but I usually can do well in the heat and I figured that might be the thing that made it hard in the fall, and maybe rain. I am not used to running in humidity, but I’ve done well in it before, so I wasn’t concerned as much about the weather as maybe I should have been.

I thought being in a competitive race would be good, and it was. I learned a lot watching the other runners, and learned a lot about my own racing style and preparation. It was more like feedback this time. I feel like I’ve got it down really well.

But Saturday September 20th was not the day I hoped for, and the same could be said for most of the other runners there. All week Saturday’s weather forecast looked hot, sandwiched in between milder days. It never budged. Thunderstorms were predicted for Saturday night and Sunday.

The weather forecast turned out to be very accurate except the temperatures got even higher than predicted. At one point someone said it was 85 degrees. I saw 81 on my phone when I checked it around 5 pm.

I've been to this race twice now and both times the weather got me good. Now I understand why Joe felt it was difficult. It’s not that the course is hard by itself, the weather is a contributing factor, but it’s what goes on in the park all day that makes it difficult.

I say this not as a criticism of the race itself, but just as far as practicality for running optimally. I think Joe meant there is an advantage of having a controlled venue like a track where people are only there for the race. And also there is something to having a race with fewer distractions, as there are lots of things going on all over in a busy urban park like Edgewater.

Between people often walking three abreast and the random pedestrians, kids, bicycles, kite flyers, smokers, large groups (and I hate to say it but large people like the guy in the shirt, and even bigger), it got quite crazy and chaotic around mid-afternoon and it was very difficult to stay on the inside throughout much of the loop. Especially the half that goes alongside the water.

I would say there was a lot of extra distance covered on that course due to the amount of passing people. The area where we all had our tents and tables set up was almost impassable at times during the afternoon.

The lower corner just before you take a curve to the right to cross the mat and pass the aid station was challenging at times as pedestrians seemed to have no idea that they were crossing our direct path.

It took a lot of energy, both mental and physical, to get around the people, who of course had no idea they were hindering our progress, and it’s not their fault either. We were the invaders, we were the crazy zombies who took over their park.

Not that it was all bad. I had a lot of fun. Despite the poor conditions for running I enjoyed it. It was entertaining, too. There was the “Kale Yes I’m Vegan” guy, that’s what his tank top said, who spent the entire day and part of the evening jumping rope and working out in the east corner of the park with some sort of gas mask on.

And it was a beautiful scene next to the water, a clear fall afternoon with kites flying, people out enjoying it, weddings, nuns walking, people grilling with their families, a mix of people watching, but also very distracting. I don’t think I would have been as distracted if I was running better. I would have been concentrating on my stride and forward progress and not looking at the scenery as much.

I think that was my last trip to this race. It is such a well-run event though, it's too bad. But to be realistic, I live too far away, it's an expensive trip, and it just hasn't panned out for me. I don't have a lot of time, I’m getting older and I want to get my goal. So I will move on to somewhere else. Not sure where that will be yet, but I’ll find it.

What Happened

Beth McCurdy and I met each other at the keys 100 in 2010. She’s from the Atlanta area. Then we ran together again at NorthCoast in 2013 in the horrible wind snowstorm. This time we decided to share a room to help with costs in Cleveland. It was a good match even though I usually like to have my own space. Beth understood all my quirks and it turns out we both have interesting quirks before races, we share many of the same obsessions, preferences, and weird habits pre-race. So it worked out well. Compatible weirdness.

I flew into Columbus again this trip, it's an easier airport, better flights and less expensive from Denver, plus my friends Lynn and Suzy Newton live there. I stayed with them for 2 nights before the race. I’ve known Lynn through running since about 1997. I know their daughter, too, the three of them used to attend Lynn’s races in Arizona such as Across the Years. Lynn decided to run North Coast this year, too.

I always sleep well at their house, I had plenty of sleep hours and good food in the tank by the time I left for Cleveland Friday morning. I drove to Cleveland to meet Beth at the downtown Hilton Garden Inn. On my way into town I stopped at Whole Foods and did our shopping, Beth gave me a list of what she wanted.

Neither of us wanted to attend the prerace dinner as we are both not into expending a lot of energy and socializing the night before the race. We found a good restaurant in Lakewood that has pasta and salads and ate there for our prerace meal then holed up in our hotel room to relax and prepare for morning.

Bill Damman offered to help us. Poor guy, I don't think he knew what he was getting into. But he was very generous to help us with our gear before and after, brought us ice during the heat of the day, and checked on us. He covered our gear before the downpour, and set up a tent for us to change in or sleep in if needed.

Neither of us slept well the night before in the hotel, but I wasn't worried because I had so much sleep at Lynn's I knew I'd be okay. I got maybe 5 hours, but I had plenty of crack gels- the chocolate cherry Clif shots and drinks with caffeine if needed.

We got to the start and got stuff set up and everyone was saying hi as we got ready. I had to organize my table. I saw quite a few runners I know and met a few new people. Beth knows everyone. We got set up next to a tent that said Virginia Tech Hokies. Wheaties Boy territory. I sent him a picture and took it as a good sign.

It was already quite warm. I knew we'd need the ice from Bill. I had my plan at a very conservative pace. I realized I might have to slow even more for the first half, and I was prepared to do it.

Soon it was time to line up at the start. There were about 170 entrants, so it was pretty crowded. They start you a little before the aid tent and finish line because of the course measurement, so you get to 100 miles on the finish line mat instead of some random place.

Then we were off.

I started out according to my plan, at a relaxed pace, talking to a few runners and then doing most of my laps in silence. I needed to get a feel for how my body wanted to run in the conditions. It felt easy and I immediately stuck to my planned run/walk pattern. I got through the first 20 miles or so at exactly my planned pace and I knew that I would have to slow down to get through the afternoon, so I did that.

I started putting ice on my neck sometime after noon. A lot of people were feeling the heat, there were already people running with ice packs on and talking with their crews about hydration and electrolytes. I knew by the time I got to about 35 miles that it was not going to be the day for performances. I accepted that and knew I still had a chance to run faster after dark. Pretty much everyone I talked with was saying the same thing, we were all just waiting for dark. It was a survival race.

It was a bloodbath out there though. So many runners quit early. In the afternoon I saw quite a few suffering in the heat. People who were flying and leading early in the race one by one started to drop. I felt pretty comfortable with the pace in the heat, but I backed off early. Harvey Lewis was moving well in the men's race along with several other guys, and in the women's race it seemed like there were a lot who dropped. I'm not sure.

I was there to run my own race, not worry about what they were doing. Debra Horn was there and she was running very well, but she wasn't going blazing fast. She seemed to be running smart. Beth looked good early on but we run differently, she likes to run and I do the run/walk thing. I lost track of her for quite a while.

Some of the older runners were amazing though. Those of us in the USATF national championship race had our age groups on bibs on our backs, and there were some 70+ year olds out there who did not in any way look their age. They were moving well too. The two women I saw in the 65-69 age group looked great, too.

I went through 50 miles in about 10:25 which is a lot slower than usual, but it was necessary. I have no idea where I was at 100K because after 50 miles I stopped paying attention to splits and just focused on moving forward and staying cool. I ate a couple of PBJs and then stuck to yogurt. My stomach was fine.

The afternoon was chaotic with masses of people in the park. I stopped for 10 minutes and got into Bill’s tent to change into evening clothes. My legs were surprisingly fresh. I’d been well-hydrated, peeing hourly, and I didn’t have any muscle cramping when I had to crouch into the small tent to change clothes.

I got back out on the course, but it hadn’t cooled down. The park was still full of people at sunset, it was beautiful though. There was this group of people facing east and doing their Muslim evening prayer, and the seagulls were circling around overhead, along the waterfront, and it was such a calm scene despite having so much going on out there.

As it got darker, it was still too warm to need any extra clothing. I could feel a blister in the usual spot under my left foot, the ball of my foot, the same spot that got me at Badwater. I looked at it when I was in the tent and it just looked like a friction spot. I changed socks but didn’t do anything else to it. In retrospect maybe that’s when I should have broken out an Engo patch or something, but it was not bothering me running.

As the evening went on, it stayed at about 75 degrees. I no longer needed ice but it was not comfortable for picking up the pace. The blister was there but I decided to keep going since it wasn’t affecting my gait. It always took about the first 24 hours for it to be a problem at Badwater so my thinking was, I should be fine to make it through morning. But I’d been walking a lot more than I anticipated due to the heat, and I think that made it worse. When I ran, it was starting to hurt more, especially on the little downhill section going into the aid station.

Sometime around midnight I passed Andy Lovy, the race physician, who told me to be prepared as they were expecting a storm to move in with heavy rain somewhere around 2 am. When I went through the aid station, Bill was working in there so I asked him if he would cover Beth’s gear. When I went by our table I had a garbage bag ready to go so I could cover my stuff, but I didn’t know if she had anything, and I thought she was in the tent sleeping. She’d been having nausea earlier and decided to lie down in the tent and take a break.

The wind started to pick up and I grabbed my rain hat and jacket when I started to feel drops. I continued moving, but it only rained lightly. It did cool things down a little. Eventually I started to notice my groin and hamstring on the left side were getting tight. The blister had been hurting, and it was affecting my gait, which is what I wanted to avoid. I decided to stop by the medical tent to see if the foot care people could help me. I had my own foot care stuff but it was raining and dark, and I thought I’d see if I could avoid digging around out there.

When I went in there were about 4 people who appeared to be students, they all converged on me at once. I told them about my foot and they had me fill out the form, just like Badwater. No problem. I did warn them that I am a nurse and a pain in the butt. I took off my shoe and sock, and a woman who said she was the doctor came over and looked at it. It was the start of a deep blister under that same spot that hasn’t caused me any problems ever since Badwater in 2011. Back to haunt me.

Then she asked me some questions, turns out I’m allergic to the supplies they had available to pad my foot, and they were unwilling to try popping the blister. John Vonhof would have jabbed it with a scalpel. I was a little annoyed but it really is the runner’s responsibility to take care of their own feet. I had all the supplies I needed at my table, so I told them I was going to go and work on it myself.

I know I probably sounded like a bitch but I warned them. I guess what irritated me was that if they didn’t feel comfortable doing what I knew needed to be done, that was fine, I just wanted them to not take so long to make a decision, it seemed like they spent a lot of time making me wait and I’m not sure what for. But then I have little patience with anything these days.

Anyway I apologized to them as I left and thanked them, and went to my table and sat down in the dark. The rain had stopped, so I sat down in the wet chair and dug out my foot kit and my headlamp, and went to work. The blister didn’t have much fluid in it, but it hurt. I tried poking one area with fluid and got very little out. I taped over it and pulled some hypafix up and over the space between my toes, hoping that if it did eventually pop, it would drain.

I got back out on the course, and Beth got up at some point and we ran together for a short time. She was up and down, she’d feel okay for a while and then awful again. I was fine but now I couldn’t run or walk very well either. The blister really hadn’t improved from draining the few drops of fluid I got out. Walking became more painful and around 4 am, the sky opened up with a fury. It was a steady downpour and puddles were forming everywhere, some parts of the course had sand that washed over them, and I was barely moving. I got my rain jacket again, which I had ditched when it never turned to steady rain earlier.

With each lap as I went across the mat and saw the results on the screen, it seemed like it was taking forever to accumulate miles. I was only at 78 or so. Earlier in the night I realized that 100 might be a good thing to focus on, but by the time the rain really started, I knew I was doomed, and it was getting ridiculous.

In the middle of the serious downpour, I was headed east along the lake and realized I was going at Andy’s pace. (He’s about 30 years older than me) . I caught up to him, and we walked together in the rain. We could see the portapotties in the distance and I pointed them out as my goal. I said, when we get there, I’m hiding inside to get out of the rain. He said I might do the same, and told me that it would take about 4 minutes to get there from where we were. We giggled as we headed toward our goal.

There we were, in a raging rainstorm, along Lake Erie with the wind blowing in the dark, at 4:30 am, planning to hide out in the portapotties. I asked him what that says about our sanity. He would know, he was a psychiatrist.

When we got to the portapotties I got inside and stood there for a while. I had my phone with me, which I had used to text Wheaties Boy when things started getting ugly. I snapped a selfie in there, standing there, seriously questioning my sanity. I decided that I was done. I got out and limped the rest of the loop back to the mats and aid station. When I crossed the mat it said 80.2 miles. That’s where I was done. I was over it.

When I got there, Phil McCarthy and a few other runners were in there, doing the same thing I was. Lots of other people had left much earlier. I gave my chip to Dan, the race director, and talked with him for a while. He gave me my medal. I ate some hot food and sat down to talk with the others in there. Soon Beth walked in, looking drowned rat-like in her hoodie. She told me she was thinking about being done too. I didn’t want to influence her decision. I had warm clothes, I could stick around until morning if she wanted to finish.

She went out for another lap or two and then came back. She was done. She said she felt lightheaded like she had low blood sugar so I got her some M&Ms and she sat there for a few minutes. I went to the tent, where Bill was sleeping, and asked him if he could help us get our stuff back to the car. I drove the car closer and we loaded up and went back to the room, showered, and napped until about 10:30 am.

We didn’t sleep much all day, we did eat breakfast and then hung out around the room, talking. Later we went downtown and had a drink and ate. I tried a beer from Great Lakes Brewing Company. It was okay.

I was really glad Beth and I shared the room and stayed together because it made it a lot more fun, especially when our races didn’t go well. But in running the race this time, I realized something, that I did just fine with my body and almost everything was good. The only issue was the blister, and I did a good job of backing off on the pace. My body has plenty left, I was not sore or even very stiff.

I didn’t realize the callus had built up that much again, and running on asphalt in the heat and humidity despite being well hydrated, that is my bad spot on my foot. It got me. I had no issues when I ran on the track last spring in cooler conditions and more miles. So in a way this is good, once the blister heals the callus will peel away and I can start working on reducing it again.

But somehow this experience left me feeling even more confident that 120 miles or more is well within my capability. Things can go wrong in any race, weather can get you, or something else can happen. The faster you go and the more you push yourself, the more things that can happen, so you just need to hit the right one. It will happen, like Joe was telling me. Eventually you’ll hit the right one.

We slept Sunday night and then Monday morning Beth headed to the airport and I drove back to Columbus to return the rental car and catch my flight out. I spent a little time in Columbus before I had to go to the airport. I mailed my cooler back to myself with my laundry in it. Then I ate lunch and walked around as much as I could on my sore foot. On the drive back from Cleveland for some reason I felt very happy. I came to the realization that I had a lot of fun and the 120 goal will be there for me to pursue in 2015.

Then I was checking Facebook and I got this message from my friend Eddie in Boulder. He asked me about the 24 hours of Boulder race coming up in October. The one that I couldn’t do the last 4 years when I worked because it always fell on my work weekend.

For some reason I got excited about that. The thought of running around under the stars all night again sounded like exactly what I needed! I didn’t get to enjoy the night at North Coast the way I wanted to, so this would be my chance!

I might do it. I’ll let the blister heal, and then see how I’m feeling. I think it will be a go. Except I’m watching the weather and will wait to sign up until the last minute. I don’t want to run in any more downpours this year! I’m done with that!

In the Columbus airport there was a Jeni’s ice cream vending machine. I could not believe my eyes so I took a picture. I went to Jeni’s twice while I was there. That is the best ice cream ever.

I started my day at 7 am Eastern time, and didn’t get home until 11 pm Mountain time, so it was an 18 hour day of travel after the exhausting race. I was toast. The girls yelled at me, I had to shut the front door quickly so they wouldn’t wake up the whole neighborhood. Dennis was at a conference out of town so the house was quiet.

Lynn wrote me later to tell me I had won my age group. I guess that should be consolation, but I don’t feel consoled by that. Eighty miles is not the performance I wanted. I want to make my goal. I just need to find the right place on the right day. Lake Erie beat me out of my goals twice now, but I won't forget either of those two events. Definitely memorable. Thanks to the lake.

That’s all there is to it. I might think of some other things, but I don’t feel disappointed by the experience. It was valuable, even in its shortcomings. I have been doing this for nearly a quarter century and I still learn new things every time. I love this sport and I am so glad I’ve gotten a chance to enjoy it from so many different perspectives, competitively, recreationally, as adventure, from the race director, medical, staff, and volunteer perspectives, and now, as I’m getting older, to be able to come back to the competitive side again.

I can’t wait for next year!

Certifiable: North Coast 24 Hour Nutshell

Well after 18 hours of traveling yesterday I am officially brain dead so this blogpost isn't going to happen until after I get some sleep. So I will finish the long post later, maybe after a nap.

The official results aren't even out yet, but the race fell on a day that was less than ideal for performing well for most people, so the overall mileage totals were low, and a lot of people went home early, which was wise if you were trying to salvage a chance at something else, or if you were somewhat sane.

High temperatures in the mid-eighties, after a warm start, and then downpours at night made this race one of those where you just can't win. (Unless of course, you were one of the two winners!)

My race ended at 80 miles, in a portapotty taking cover from the rain, at 4:30 am, due to a blister I was unable to fix that left me limping, barely walking through the storm, giggling with Andy Lovy about our sanity. Andy happens to be the team physician and he was a psychiatrist for many years.

But after all that I am not as disappointed as I might otherwise be. I had fun, it really truly wasn't the right day for it, and it's another race. I move on. I will shoot for something big next year. I learned a lot from this race too.

I am just glad I am not injured, that I am done with my racing season for the year, and I get to go forward.

Oh, yes, and before I forget, I won my age group too. I guess I could take it as consolation, but I really don't care about age groups so much, not yet anyway. I still have my goal and I'm determined to go after it next year.

I will write the full blogpost and hopefully have that posted in the next 24-48 hours. Sit tight and I'll have the whole story here soon.

Wrapping it up Ritual

I did my last couple of runs here in town the past two days. I felt good, it's much easier to run a decent pace now than it was a month ago. I only got 20 miles on my feet last week, and did 6 1/2 yesterday and 4 1/2 today, with a lot of walking after my run yesterday.

I think I will be feeling bouncy by mid-week though. Give me a couple of days cooped up in an airplane and rental car, and I'll be ready to fly in circles. Velcro strips on the ceiling...

As of today the forecast for Cleveland on Saturday is very warm with possible rain at night, and some good wind. There's a 16 mph wind predicted, high of 79, low of 66. We'll see how much that changes by the weekend. At the lake, the wind is always a factor, hopefully it will cool us off.

I am ready, and I have recruited a very kind person named Bill to refill the ice in the cooler for us if it is a warm day. Beth and I will be meeting at the hotel on Friday and being mellow. We both like to keep our energy conserved for the race, do a minimum of socializing and such.

My plan is to go very steadily and consistently in my run/walk pattern through the first 12-18 hours. There is nothing to be gained by pushing too hard early. Especially if it's hot. I'm not even going to pay attention to any kind of numbers until after midnight. I will be completely in my own race and my own world.

In these competitive races, it's too easy to get caught up in someone else's pace and it can destroy a race plan. Can't worry about what anyone else is doing. I'm not racing them anyway, I am racing myself, for my own best performance. I have printed out Nick Clark's words to me that he sent me last spring, and I have had my pep talk from Wheaties Boy. I am ready to go.

You can follow the live results, which should be updated approximately every hour, from 9 am Eastern time Saturday the 20th, until 9 am Sunday the 21st, at this link. I hope to be somewhere in the middle of the pack for most of the day and into the evening. That is how I run best.

Iris is not happy about the ritual. She has not let me out of her sight since she discovered the suitcase, I was hiding it in the closet, trying to pack while the girls were napping. You can't hide anything from these dogs.

I had to pack, then repack, first because the bag was too heavy and then the weather forecast gave me more reason to get rid of some of the extra bulky stuff I packed. Finally today I went through everything one more time and took out another pile of unnecessary stuff. The bag still is heavy though, and just as stuffed.

I'll be staying with Lynn and Suzy again in Columbus before heading to Cleveland. Lynn is running the race this year too. I'll be doing a lot of resting and eating while I'm there.

I've been through my list half a dozen times, and I think I've got everything taken care of that I can possibly do before I get to Columbus. All I have to do is show up.

And then DIG IN until there's nothing left. Stay tuned...

Gone With the Wind: North Coast 24 Hour Race Report

I finally made it home to cold snowy Colorado, I apologize for the delay in getting this blogpost out. I have been tired and sore, still haven't caught up on my sleep so I'm having a hard time thinking, plus didn't get home from Ohio until late in the day yesterday. Now I'm back to the woman cave where I can relax and collect my thoughts, plus I can do a little soaking in the hot tub outside.

My feelings from this race are mixed, I loved the event, I enjoyed the venue and the race itself. There were great volunteers who braved horrible conditions and had to be miserably cold. It was well-organized and the aid station had everything. There was extra security in the park at night from the rangers. They delivered on everything I'd heard about, it was extremely well-done.

As far as Cleveland goes, not so sure. I didn't get a chance to do any real tourist activity while I was there so maybe I missed the good stuff. I'm really not into cities, but there were a few things I would liked to have seen, like the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame. I would definitely consider going back to run this event in the future. It was even better because I got to see Lynn and Suzy and spend some time with them.

There was the disappointment, of course, of not getting anywhere close to the mileage I wanted, which was 110. Most of all, to win a 24 hour race with not even 100 miles is sort of embarrassing. But this was not my goal race, I certainly hadn't anticipated winning it, and the weather and conditions made it a survival event. Which, like it or not, seems to be my forte.

In the late hours of the race, I honestly was not even thinking about the fact that another mile or two would have improved my overall ranking dramatically. I was just over it, and wanting the time to pass so I could be done. I had completely lost sight of numbers. I'll reflect on that a bit later in this post. However, it's just more fuel for the fire next time.

Pre-Race: Just Shoot, And Walk Away

I'd spent a relaxing two days at my friends Lynn David and Suzy Newton's home in Columbus, where I got plenty of great sleep and food. On Thursday the weather forecast looked like this:



Friday evening, the race day forecast looked like this:



Friday it was raining hard all morning as I drove north toward Cleveland on I-71. I made two brief stops for food and supplies outside Cleveland and then proceeded into the downtown area to find my hotel and figure out where the race course was.

The rain stopped before I got to downtown, and I found the hotel easily. I was able to check in early and got a room on the 10th floor with a city view and some views of Lake Erie. The hotel was okay, could have been a little cleaner, but at least there was no bat guano or leftover human hairs this time.



I dumped all my stuff in the room and looked at the map and directions I had to Edgewater Park. About a 10 minute drive from the hotel, shouldn't be bad, right?

I got in the car and started going toward the park, I drove across a bridge and then into the downtown area, made the correct turns, until suddenly there were detour signs for the road I needed to take. I attempted to follow the signs but ended up getting hopelessly and completely lost, and I ended up seeing some scenic parts of downtown Cleveland that I hadn't anticipated. There was NO WAY IN HELL I was stopping the car to ask for directions in this neighborhood.

My mind immediately went to the advice I'd received from a patient at work a week or so ago. He has a background in law enforcement and was familiar with Cleveland, and his exact words to me were, "When you're in Cleveland, just shoot, and walk away." I would have to agree...

I continued driving and trying to follow my gut on directions to get back to another part of town where it looked a little safer. Somehow I ended up at the dog pound, which seemed to me to be as good a place as any, since there was no other building that looked like it might house someone who could actually give directions without risking my life.

They were very nice at the pound, they printed out directions for me on Google maps so I could find both the park and the way back to the hotel. Once I left there, it took less than 5 minutes to find Edgewater Park, but it had taken an hour to get there!!!

I felt a bit frazzled when I got there, and stepped out of the car. It was hard to open the door against the stiff, biting wind coming across the lake. It was also freezing cold! I walked around near the pavilions, where the aid station would be set up, and a little on the path we'd be running. The wind was a killer! All I could do was hope that tomorrow it wasn't as bad, otherwise it was going to be an interesting race.

The trees were being whipped and huge waves were crashing against the shore. You could go surfing out there, on a lake! I could feel the mist from the waves, standing there about 20 feet from the water, and I was on the race course. It could be hard to stay dry, too.



I'd seen enough. I was freezing my butt off, and now I was glad I'd brought two huge bags full of winter clothing, because I was going to need it. I'd had my little urban adventure, now it was time to get ready for race day. There was hope though, the clouds were moving fast overhead and there were actually two little spots of blue sky visible.

I wrote to Lynn to tell him I'd arrived safely and was at Edgewater. I also told him about the blue hole in the sky.

His words back to me were, "Don't be deceived. The hole is to pour water through."

Driving back to the hotel took 10 minutes. I saw where I had made the wrong turn, so I felt relieved that on race morning it would be much easier.

Back at the hotel, I finished organizing what little I had left to do. I mostly thought about it. Stepping out into that wind was a hard thing to do the day before a race, knowing it could easily be just like that. I do not like cold weather. But I had to psych myself up, I came all this way, and there was no way I was going to wimp out. I told myself, a little wind and cold isn't going to stop me. I have run across Death Valley several times and endured heat. I can do this for 24 hours. All I needed to do was stick to my plan and stay warm and I'd be fine.

I didn't feel like going out again for food, I had bought some soup, bread, salad, and pasta at Whole Foods and warmed them up in the microwave in the room. It was a little spicy, but not bad. I watched the sunset over the city from my window. I had a hard time falling asleep but once I did, I slept a solid 7 hours.

Race Morning


I drank my coffee, took a shower and got dressed. There was a nice sunrise over the city, but I could see the trees in the cemetery across the street from the hotel that were swaying, and a flag on the Progressive Field stadium building was blown straight out in the wind.

Going out to the car it was cold, but the sky didn't look too bad.

I drove over to the park and got my stuff set up on a picnic table and picked up my race packet and timing chip. The wind was fierce, my hands were frozen, and I tied my stuff down with bungee cords to the picnic table so it wouldn't blow away. It started snowing, horizontally. I had time to kill so I sat in the car to stay warm. People were huddled behind a building trying to stay out of the wind, waiting for the pre-race briefing to start.

I had to get out of the car for the briefing under the pavilions, and everything was being whipped by the wind. People's tents were flapping and lifting off the ground, there was sand blowing across the race course and into everything, and it was bitter cold. I grabbed some extra layers of warm clothes to start out in.



I found Beth McCurdy and Andy Lovy, and talked with both of them. I first met Beth at the Keys 100. She's been running awesome performances and was planning to get a national team qualifying performance at this race, which would probably take about 130 miles. She was definitely the favorite going into the women's race. There were several other strong women runners out there too, Liz Bondar was one of them, I had never met her before, but she has done over 110 in the 24 hour. Debra Horn was running in the 12 hour event, as she has the World 24 Hour championships coming up in May. I was hoping to talk with her and some of the other runners to get some tips and ideas on strategy in these races while I was there.

Andy is nothing short of incredible. He was the medical director for this race, and he has served in that role many times at this and other races, including Across the Years. That's where I've gotten to know him over the years. He is now 78 years old, and despite some health problems over the past several years he has managed to come back. He had a goal of 26 miles, and then he was planning to be done. He was also taking care of the runners in his medical director capacity, and had a crew of podiatry students on site with him. I found out that he will be running medical at the 24 hour national championships in Oklahoma City this fall, so it will be great to see him again there.


As we all stood there huddled together and shivering, Heidi Finniff, the race director, started the briefing, talked about the course and the start, which was a little ways back on the course from the timing mats, so that we would end up at exactly 100 miles at the timing mats when we hit our 111th lap. We had a 26 second moment of silence to think about what happened at Boston last week, and then we walked over to the starting line. The snow had stopped, but not the wind. We were starting going directly into the blast, on the corner of the course that faced directly into the water and blowing sand off the beach.

The Start

My plan going into the race was to run a steady pace of 13 minute miles over the most of the event, which would yield a total of 110 miles, and that was my goal. I allowed myself a few hours of carefully regulated adrenaline laps but didn't want to go too fast in the beginning, so I was careful not to get caught up in Beth and Debra's paces. Liz was moving along at a fast pace, too. I was there for my goal miles, not to place competitively, so I completely ignored my place as I went through the day. As much as I wanted to talk with them, I only allowed myself a couple of laps at a time with them and then I made myself walk or slow way down to keep from tiring myself out.

After a few laps it became obvious that this was not going to be a predictable day, and the wind was making it hard to focus on pace anyway, because one half of the course had a stiff headwind or cross wind, and the other half the wind was at our backs. There was one little corner of the course, near where we had started, where the wind was so strong that it blew you back. It was a struggle to figure out how to deal with it. I tried running into it, walking into it, leaning forward, and various other strategies. Finally I decided I would approach it by not trying to fight it, but just letting it roll over me. Running into it seemed easier than walking, but I didn't push the pace. I just kept turning my legs over at a painfully slow pace and getting through the hard wind with a minimum of energy expenditure.

It was also hard to regulate your clothing layers because it was so cold in the headwind, but then you'd get hot with the wind at your back. I opted to stay warm, as always. I had my oldest pair of warm Pearl Izumi tights on with my knee-high compression sleeves underneath, a long sleeved PI shirt, followed by a fleece jacket and then my PI jacket on top. Then I grabbed a windbreaker to put on top of that, for a total of 4 layers. Later on I added a 5th layer when it got cold. I also had a windproof pair of gloves on under a pair of thick fleece gloves, a fleece hat and a headband to hold the hat on over my ears, and two neck gaiters: one for my neck, the other to pull over my face when running into the wind.





The wind was so strong in that one corner of the course that the wind was forming sand dunes across the path, which the race volunteers had to keep shoveling of every hour or so. If they didn't do that, it would have been running through sand dunes to add an extra challenge.



I talked a bit with Debra, she told me about it being an exercise in patience, running the 24 hour event. She suggested that I try qualifying for the national team. I told her, I feel so far from that at this point, I have a long way to go, and already being 49, it would be really hard. Debra told me she is 54. She runs a lot of marathons to help with her speed and strength. I have been working on the speed and it's been a hard year, I feel like I've made some progress but it's been minimal. I do plan to work on it on an ongoing basis, though.

I need to get some much better performances before I could even think about going to qualify. I'm planning on doing some marathons this summer and fall. What I also need is more experience running these competitive events, which is why I wanted to run North Coast, and plan on going to the national championships this fall.



Beth introduced me to a number of runners on the course. I ended up meeting a lot of great people in this event. We were all struggling together, talking helped to take my mind off the wind. I thought about Joe Fejes and his advice to me: staying out of the portapotties, aid stations, and staying on the course as much as possible. I did that. I ran the tangents carefully, something I've always been good at. Beth said that was one of her weak areas, she needed to pay more attention to the curves. She introduced me to Karen Heitner from South Carolina, who was running strong all day in the 24 hour.

By mid-afternoon Beth was struggling to keep on pace for her goal. She caught up to me on one lap and asked if I could talk. She said she was having a hard time staying warm and fighting the wind. We talked about revising goals, I had already been thinking that in my head, that I didn't feel 110 was going to happen for me. Beth was afraid of getting hypothermic at night. She had a hard goal set and these conditions were clearly not going to bring her 130 miles.

I told her how I approached the wind, by not fighting it, but I understood about trying to go for a fast pace in this weather. She definitely could still win it easily if she stayed. But it was more important for her to get a high mileage performance. I hoped she would stay for my own selfish reasons, I wanted someone to push me. Still, I understood and there are times when it is smarter to call it a day than to try to push through.

She decided to hang in there and see if she could get her head back in the right place. We ran together for a while, and tried to stick to talking about things that helped distract us. Like food! It seemed like she was starting to feel better after an hour or so of this, and she took off at a faster pace again. Meanwhile as the hours went on, I realized that I would have to revise my goal downward, but I still thought 105 might be possible.

The wind was gradually dying down, from howling to a moderately strong headwind. It was still a hard wind but not so bad that it prevented forward progress like in the morning. It had the effect of making it seem a little warmer, at least when the wind was at our backs. It was also shifting direction, so it was cold on different parts of the course than earlier.

Somewhere around 6 pm Beth decided to call it a day. I felt bad for her, but she was doing the right thing given her goals. Liz was struggling with an injury and left at some point. Debra had called it a day early, understandably.

Hung Ng, whom I knew from Badwater, was thinking about quitting too, around 50 miles he looked at the standings, and saw he was doing well, and decided to stick with it. There were several men who had been running fast earlier in the race, but fizzled out and were barely moving by late in the day.

The sun started sinking and the temperature started to drop by 7 pm, and I changed clothes for the evening. I changed into my windproof PI tights, changed my socks, cleaned my feet off, and poured sand out of my shoes. I had no blisters, just a few minor hot spots from the pile of sand I'd dumped out. I had more layers ready for late night, when I'd need them. I took a few sunset pictures while my hands were warm, then dropped the phone back in the box. I didn't want the temptation of texting anyone or checking Facebook when I was feeling crappy.





I had no stomach problems all day, I was eating tons of grilled cheese and PBJs, and drinking surprisingly little water compared to what I normally do. I wasn't thirsty, I was peeing once an hour, and not cramping. I had no swelling in my hands or feet so I knew my hydration was perfect. I had only taken two S caps all day. I drank a Starbucks doubleshot when I changed clothes.

Night Time

I reached 53.5 miles at 12 hours, and I was tired, but not dead on my feet. I knew keeping the same pace through night was going to be tough. I started to use some of the caffeine gels Wheaties Boy swears by. They helped me stay awake, but they give you a boost for only a short time, and then you start to crash. I tried to keep eating PBJs in between the gels to avoid the sugar crash, and it worked well. I had some broth and soup during the night, too.

I realized by midnight that even 100 miles might be too ambitious of a goal. I was doing some fast walking, but lamenting the fact that my training has consisted of 99.99% running, so my walking skill is not what it has been in the past. I hooked up with a couple who were racewalking, and they were moving well. I stayed with them for a couple of laps and talked. I tried to talk to as many people as possible to stay awake and moving.

Hung was running a very strong and consistent pace the whole way. We talked and ran together a bit at night. He kept talking about the fog. It was hard to see very far on the water, and the clouds were low, but it didn't seem foggy to me. I figured I just didn't notice the fog due to my fatigue. I was watching him run through the whole race, and watching him take frequent stops at his table. He was amazing, he was stopping often, but his running pace was solid. I hardly ever saw him walk.

I talked with Andy throughout the night. He had surpassed his 26 mile goal 12 hours ahead of schedule and continued on to 30, and then 35 miles in the race. He cheered me on every time I passed him.

It got noticeably colder between the hours of 2 am and 4 am. I was shivering, no matter how much clothing I wore. I added a fifth layer again. I tried warm drinks but they didn't last long. I needed to stay awake and do something. I tried running a little and was making better progress walking. I walked a lot during the hours of 2 am to 5 am.

I started to wonder where I was place-wise anong the women. I didn't see very many women out of the course, maybe a half dozen. People had dropped like flies earlier. Beth and Liz had both left early. Karen was still on the course, along with Anne McClain, and Sara Brunazzi. I didn't have a clue where I was in relation to any of them.

I decided to try to figure that out, to give myself a mental task to focus on, maybe it would help me stay awake and motivated. I'd downsized my goal again to 150 km, which frustrated the hell out of me but I felt completely beaten by the cold and wind. I talked with Karen a little, she told me she was over it, too.

I figured out at some point that Anne was ahead of me by 3 laps, so I decided to focus on making up that gap, simply because it was something to concentrate on. Eventually she must have gone off the course, because I made up the gap and then kept gaining on her. I saw that Sara was behind me, but racking up the miles well. Karen was 4 laps ahead of me, so I decided to focus on catching her next. I must have been moving for 3 hours trying to make headway on that and couldn't. She was a beast.

Karen kept crossing the timing mats somewhere ahead of me, but I couldn't see her, I just saw her name and mileage on the screen. Finally I saw her ahead of me. She was moving at a decent pace. We started up the gradual incline toward the lake, and I ran by her. I said, "good job Karen" and continued on by. Once I leveled out at the top of the hill something kicked in, in my brain. I grabbed some packets of chocolate cherry "crack" (that's what Wheaties Boy calls those Clif Shots) and stuffed them in my pockets so I could avoid crashing.

I took off and before long I had made up two laps on her. That motivated me enough that I started pushing myself to a run/walk pattern. It felt better to run, so I didn't even walk much from that point on. I ran with Hung again, who was still complaining about the fog. I was too out of it to converse and ask him questions about it, though. It amazed me how much I had left in my legs. It also made me feel really stupid for not having used more of it earlier, but it was too late now. I had to use what I had left with the time remaining on the clock.

Light was coming back in the sky, and I was coming back to life. I focused on getting to 150K, and then 95 miles, and whatever time I had left until 9 am. It never occurred to me that I was going to be close to 100 miles, or I would have somehow tried to do it. I simply spaced out from running during those 3 hours in the middle of the night, feeling defeated by the long day, and being in survival mode.



By the time 7 am came around it had warmed up somewhat and I had been able to shed two of my jackets. The wind was the calmest it had been the whole time. I was in the lead for the women, and was in no danger of being caught. At some point my hands warmed up enough to grab my phone to take sunrise pictures as I took a quick break to eat some yogurt, and I quickly posted one to Facebook, and no sooner did I do that than I got a message back from Joe who said, "Quit texting! Keep running!"

Yes, sir!

I didn't let up, I figured I could get as many miles as possible, but for some reason, trying for 100 never even crossed my mind again. I must have been experiencing late-race dementia. The difficulty of changing my goals and adjusting my pace, and figuring out the wind all day must have blown my brain out my ears.

I was nearing 98 miles, so I focused on that. I grabbed my popsicle stick to mark my final spot when the horn went off at 9 am. I was with Andy Lovy at the final moment, just before another full lap at the timing mats.

They had delicious breakfast burritos and some fresh fruit at the finish, I ate some and then started taking my stuff back to the car. Karen helped me carry things, which was much appreciated. Then we had the awards. I ended up with 99 miles, actually, which makes me want to kick myself in the butt even more!

Karen had finished second, about 4 or 5 miles behind me, and Sara was third. Among the men, John Cash ran an amazing 135 miles in his first 24 hour. I told him he needs to go to the national championships. Hung finished second with 120 miles. Those two were running the whole time. I learned a lot from watching both of them, and it convinces me even more to give up the walking for the most part, I am going to work on running a steady pace in these things from now on.

Hung was having a hard time seeing, something had happened, possibly hyponatremia or some other weird thing, and he suffered some temporary blindness. That's why he kept talking about the fog. Andy checked him out, fortunately I heard he recovered from that quickly after the race. I've never heard of that before. Note to myself for working races on medical teams in the future. I have no idea how that could happen, unless he had some cerebral edema that could put pressure on his optic nerve? I might be way wrong on that, so don't quote me. I will look it up as soon as time allows.

I got my finisher's medal and a plaque. There was also prize money, which is a nice thing, as this was an expensive trip for me and will help to offset those costs.





After thanking Heidi, Andy, and some of the volunteers, and saying goodbye to a lot of the runners, I took off for the hotel to get showered, fed, and rested. I limped into the hotel, disheveled and looking like the bag lady. But when I got to the room, I had no blisters and no heat rash. Not even any chafing.



I took a 2 hour nap, went downstairs and got a HUGE burger, fries and a beer, then went back to the room to try to sleep, but I made some phone calls and texts to Dennis, Wheaties Boy and a few Facebook posts before I actually fell asleep. I was sore, swollen, and uncomfortable and tossed and turned all night.



Monday morning I drove back to Columbus, spent the day with Lynn and Suzy, and did laundry so I cold fit everything back in my bags. I flew back to Colorado on Tuesday morning. It had snowed another 5 inches.





What I Learned

I need to have a lot more confidence in my ability to sustain a running gait for 24 hours. I can do it. I've relied entirely too much on my walking in the past. It's time to put that behind me. Walking is good for short breaks to relieve muscle fatigue, but it's not something I can continue to do if I want to rack up the miles.

Having a crew will be helpful in keeping track of my place in the standings, and to help me be consistent on food and fluid intake. I did just fine all by myself at this race, but it was cold and damp, and I didn't need as much fluid. It would have helped to have someone dig through my stuff occasionally and hand me what I needed as I ran by, instead of having to stop and rummage through a box.

Sticking to a goal pace was right, even though the conditions screwed things up here. I will use that strategy again next time. And everything Joe told me is good advice.

As far as pacing myself went, I obviously had a good bit of reserve in my legs in the last 4 hours. That tells me I did a good job of pacing in the first half, but a really crappy job of pacing myself in the second half, but I felt pretty clueless on how to handle the conditions. There is still so much to learn! Also, mentally I needed to be stronger in the second half. I felt more mentally exhausted than physically.

It's a little embarrassing to say I won a 24 hour race, especially North Coast, with less than 100 miles, but it just gets me that much more determined to blow it all out of the water next time. 6 months to Oklahoma City!

Yes I am on Team Pearl Izumi, so I do have financial interest in saying this, but I wouldn't say it if it weren't true. One thing I need to mention, was that while I had 5 layers on top during the cold night, I never wore more than one pair of tights the whole time, and at night I wore my Pearl Izumi Fly Evo tights, they have windproof panels and are breathable. I never needed more than these in those extreme conditions, so I was really impressed with how they performed for me. My legs never got cold. I did have a pair of compression sleeves on underneath up to my knees, but my thighs stayed warm even in the coldest hours of the night and the wind with just the Fly Evo tights. Highly recommend them.

What I'll do now, and a few parting thoughts

I finally wrapped up the longest racing season I can ever remember. I am so glad to be done. I am taking the rest of April and most of May off from training, I'll get on the bike, do a little running once I feel rested, and then will resume racing in June.

I do feel like I made significant gains in fitness. In better conditions, I know I could have reached my 110 mile goal, and it would have helped immensely to have more competition if Beth and a few others had been there, given a better day. I am only disappointed with the number, but then, it's only a number. There are more races and better days ahead.

I am really proud of myself for overcoming my cold aversion in this race. I trained for heat for so long, that last year I was a complete wimp in the cold. Over the past year I feel like I've gotten so much better at dealing with it. Could it be the hot flashes? Maybe. But I didn't have any in this race. It would have been a nice thing...but I'm also glad they left me alone during this trip so I could sleep!

I'm ready to get on with my rest time because I am totally psyched to go into training for Oklahoma City. This whole experience makes me want even more to get out there and blow out all the carbon!

North Coast 24 Hour Brief

Here's the short version: managed to pull off a win in the women's 24 hour in the most bone-chilling wind I've experienced in an ultra. The long version is coming, I'll need to catch up on my sleep and get home to Colorado, hope to post on that by mid-week.

This was the toughest race I've ever run, really, it made a Badwater double seem easy by comparison. I struggled more, both physically and mentally, at North Coast.

Strategically I did play my cards right, by not "fighting" the wind and sticking to a slow pace from the beginning. I found myself revising my goals early, this was clearly a survival and grit race. When people were dropping like flies I was able to conserve my energy and it paid off, in a big way, in the last two hours.

I am exhausted, and happy, even with a grand total of only 98
miles. Those were 98 hard-earned, mentally challenging miles!

Full report in a few days!

Work Hangover Wednesday: A Change of Plans

Halfway through the week, and only a week to go until March. Where is the time going?

I can't complain about winter going by fast, as it is my least favorite season, and...we'll be changing the clocks again soon. On my birthday, this year. I'll be in an airport somewhere, probably Nashville, on my way home from the Delano Park race. That means I get to enjoy my birthday for 25 hours instead of the usual 24.

I got the bad news late last week, the time off I requested in May to run Cornbelt was not going to happen. I was really annoyed at first because I put in for that last October. But we are slaves to this merger now, and we are being held hostage May through July. It was time for creativity in scheduling. I've been training my ass off since last fall. What was I going to do?

I moped around for the weekend and early this week. It definitely contributed to my poor sleep over the weekend. I've been so frustrated with so many aspects of this merger. It's affecting everyone in so many ways. I had no idea what I could do, I'd signed up for a 50 miler in late April, but the only option to lengthen that was 100K, and I needed a longer race.

I'd considered North Coast 24 hour earlier in the year but thought the spring race was the same weekend as Cornbelt. I always wanted to run North Coast because I've heard so many good things about it. But the trip would be expensive, with airfare, rental car, hotels, big city expenses and hassles like parking and traffic, and where to shop for race supplies.

Cornbelt on the other hand, is a long day's drive from home, or can be broken into two days, there is no traffic, it's very low key, midwest, rural, cheap hotels, no air travel, no rental cars, traffic, parking, or bad parts of town. I can haul everything I need in my vehicle.

I was back at work on Tuesday, eating lunch, turned on my phone to Facebook and saw that one of the runners I know from the east coast had signed up for North Coast, but it was April 20th! The lightbulb turned on. I immediately emailed the schedule goddess, and asked her if those dates would work. She wrote back and said they would. I had an alternative!

So I spent most of today figuring out arrangements for North Coast, and things came together nicely. One of my longtime ultra friends from much earlier in my running days, Lynn Newton, lives in Columbus now. I've known Lynn and his wife Suzy, and their daughter, for many years, and we all lived in Arizona for a while. I wrote to Lynn and asked him about North Coast, and if he knew about Cleveland. He suggested I fly to Columbus instead and stay with them, and drive to Cleveland just for the race.

When I looked into it, it turned out to be a much more economical alternative. The airfare and rental car were much better in Columbus. So I've made my plans, signed up for the race, and all I have to do now is buy my ticket and book my hotel room in Cleveland and rental car. It will be great to spend some time visiting with Lynn and Suzy.

Tonight it is sleeting outside and we're supposed to get 3-4 inches of snow by morning. We need any moisture we can get, but it really won't put a dent in our drought. No, there's no climate change...I'm fearful that we will have a horrible fire season like last year. And unfortunately we'll be stuck here this summer...

Today I was off work, after just one work day. As a result, I can't really call today a work hangover but I was tired anyway, slept until 8:15 this morning, missed my nap this afternoon. I called in sick to work on Monday. I wasn't sick, but I was sleep deprived.

I've been describing this anxiety thing in my recent posts. I was up during the night on Saturday, my brain spinning around in my skull again, over all sorts of things that I can't do anything about, but I couldn't get it to quiet down in there. When this happens, I'll be up for several hours, and then in the morning I feel like crap.

Sunday my sleep pattern was all messed up. I went for a 21 tempo mile run, most of it with Wheaties Boy. It was a great workout, but I was tired later in the day, a combination of the beer tour, high mileage, lack of sleep, and the anxiety thing.

After the past several weeks of bad things happening at work in the evenings, including the night when I was there alone and the patient had that reaction, I wasn't looking forward to the possibility of that happening again if I was already exhausted at the beginning of the shift.

I'm getting sort of tired of having to stay late and do paperwork on transfusion reactions at the end of a 12 hour shift, and if I'm sleep deprived to begin with, and I'm stuck closing, and something goes wrong with a patient, I really don't want to be having to think on my feet with an emergency when I'm brain dead myself. If I were a patient in trouble I wouldn't want my nurse being sleep deprived and unable to think clearly.

So I took a "mental health day" and saved myself the agony of schlepping my body through a 12+ hour shift as Zombie, RN. I slept in, took a nap, and it was windy as hell, but I went up to the foothills and did a 10 mile trail run. More like a trail crawl. Absolutely dragged myself up the trail, my legs were screaming. I texted Wheaties Boy and told him I'd be thanking him on race day, after I was whining on the trail.

I'm going to make this a high mileage week and then next week I'll cut my miles and do a 2 week taper before Delano Park. After that it will be just 6 more weeks to North Coast!

Oh yeah, one more thing, has anyone noticed their local McDonald's advertising something called "Fish McBites"? Are they serious? That is gross. Obesification knows no bounds, or decency.

McBite Me.