Are you, dear readers, getting tired of these race reports? It’s about the most exciting thing in our lives. If I didn’t write about this, what would I write about? Next weekend is actually a race-free weekend , so maybe I’ll have something else to report out. Until then, it’s on to the race report…

The short story is this: hills, lots of them. 31 miles, time, I think, was 7:20. I had hoped to top my original time here – a 7:08. It wasn’t too far into the race though, before I decided that it was more important to end it feeling good. I’ve had enough of races where I feel awful at the end, or even worse, sick for hours after. Instead, by letting go of that time goal, I finished feeling great. My left hip/ITB were giving me some grief for the last loop, but other than that I was good. I’ve been having off and on problems with my hip/ITB since the snow marathon back in December. It comes and goes, seeming to flare when I run faster than normal. I did just that at the track Thursday night, running six miles at a 10:40 average pace (including walk breaks). If I hold myself to more like an 11:40 pace, it doesn’t bother me at all. Given all that, I chose to walk this morning when everyone else went out for the run – my hip actually felt fine, but I thought I should let it settle down for a day or two.

So, anyway, Pigtails 50K. Three 9.6 mile loops, mostly trail, lots of rolling hills. Then a 2.2 out and back to get to 50K. I signed up for this race thinking I’d be running it alone. Last week Jane emailed to see if I wanted a ride to the early start, and said she’d run the first loop (in the dark) with me. Cool! Now I only had two loops to do on my own. Thursday night Rick decided he’d join me for the first loop too. Then Jamal decided to run the whole thing with me. Friday night, Jenn said on Facebook that she’d be running the first loop too, Jessica posted in her blog that she was going to run, and then right before bed, Margaret called and asked about running the last two loops with me. How cool was that? Going from no running partners to six in just a few days?

The run was great – the weather stayed cool and dry, the icy mud thawed, there were lots of friends out on the course, and we were all feeling good. On the last loop we talked about how we’d just dump our stuff at the aid station and head right out to get the out-and-back done. When we came in there was quite a crowd of cheering runners, and I knew if I stopped it’d be hard to get back out, so I threw my water bottle down by the drop bags and took off. Here’s the video – I guess I was quicker than the others expected!

(That’s me running out, Jessica running after, Margaret hugging people and Jamal waiting for her)

I went through one of my periodic processing points yesterday. You know, the one where I worry about my speed. I think maybe because I run so many of the smaller local races with a lot of fast runners, and because in that crowd, I usually have DFL nailed, I start worrying about being too slow. I have to work my way through the same thought processes each time (and yes, Rob, I think of your lectures about speed work). It comes down to this though. I have gotten faster, but can’t seem to hold the speed over the long course. I’ve hit the wall awfully hard more than once and consequently felt sick for hours after. I’ve discovered that letting go of those time goals gets me across the line ready for more, and in fact, will even let me do it multiple days in a row. So the question becomes, how important is it to be faster? Would it make a big difference if I carved a half hour off my time? And, as always, I conclude that no, it’s not worth it, it wouldn’t make any difference at all, and I wouldn’t love it as much if I did. So there you go. Not fast, but persistent. Not fast, but the ability to endure. Not fast, but enjoying the journey. Not fast, but crossing that finish line anyway!

Me, in the car, pre-race

In the three years I’ve been running the 25K at Capitol Peak, we’ve had three different courses. The first year I got to run the original course. Last year that course was modified after severe windstorms caused some damage, plus there was an excess of snow at the peak. This year our December snow and January rain caused more damage, plus there was, again, too much snow at the peak, and so we got to run a completely new course. I love all three versions, and look forward to any of them (or something new) next year!

Jenny, in the car, pre-race

We started the morning in fog with temps in the low 30s. In the few minutes we stood to listen to pre-race instructions my toes and fingers went numb. Our start was uphill, which helped bring some feeling back, but it took a mile or two before I felt comfortably warm. Abi, Cat and I ran together, with a goal of enjoying the forest and the day. We knew that the others – who were all running the 50K – would need more time than us, which meant we could take it easy.

We were about two miles in when we saw Jenny walking down the trail toward us. We were bummed to discover she had twisted her ankle and was calling it a day. After many assurances that she’d be okay walking back, we headed on.

The course offered multiple types of terrain – smooth dirt, deep mud, creek crossings, rocky, dry stream beds, zig-zag switchbacks, more shoe-sucking mud, and puddles of water both small and large. At one point I commented that my feet were still dry and Cat told me I’d just jinxed us. It wasn’t long after when my foot slipped from a fairly stable bit of mud into an ankle deep shoe-popping bit of mud and she got to remind me of my ill-advised comment. After that, I gave up on trying to avoid mud and water, even wading through two small streams rather than rock-hopping through – after all, it provided me with cleaner shoes!

I had a moment out there… We were running through the trees when what we thought was hail began dropping on us. We could see it falling all around, but when we looked to the ground, we saw small, flat panes of ice. Looking up, we discovered that the trees had iced over in the fog, and as the sun was beginning to burn through, the ice was falling off in chunks. The experience brought home to me the simple joy of nature, of sharing an amazing sight with friends, of the sheer exuberance of the day. It was a sight that I will likely never experience again, though I hope that future runs will bring that moment and those feelings back to me again and again.

We were the last of the first-loopers to come in, and we were greeted by the sight of Jenny, leg propped, ankle encased in ice, smile on her face. She was seated between the two burning barrels, and anxious to hear about the rest of the run. Her ankle looked like it had a tennis ball sticking out the side. We changed and ate, and chatted with everyone who came in. It came to me that this was the part of our races I usually miss, because I’m typically one of the last ones in. I got to talk to lots of people who are usually gone when I finish. I garnered a lot of interest with my veggie-bacon sandwich and ended up breaking off little pieces of veggie-bacon for others to sample. It caused a lot of laughs from the group (the verdict was that it looks like dog treats, but tastes much better. I wonder how they know it’s better? Who tasted dog treats?)

Once Eric came in, cleaned up and ate, we brought the car closer and helped Jenny hop her way over. She reported today that it’s still swollen and she’s going to see the doc. Hope it heals quickly!

Next race is Saturday – Pigtails 50K. Pigtails is the first 50K I ever ran. (And, that day I thought I said I’d never do another). It’s a 10 mile loop with rolling hills, and a short out-and-back. I know I will have company for one loop, and I’ll probably be running the second two alone. I’m hoping for a slightly better time than before, and mostly, hoping to feel much better afterward than I did the first time. I’m in much better shape now and recover quickly, so I think that will happen. Here’s hoping for another sunny NW day!