The End of my Running Career Horsey Butt Style
First, the contributors to its demise:
-- Yellow, uber friend and coach
-- Shannah Werner of PEAK Training, trainer and coach
-- Jennifer, partner in pain
I confirmed what I thought: I’m a cyclist, not a runner, and supremely capable of group-stupid activities. Now that I live where there are 4 seasons, including the real possibility that I can ski from my doorway, I’ve been expanding my horizons in a muddly sort of way. As the conditions and my muse collide, a little backcountry tour skiing, skate skiing, maybe a hike, boot camp one winter, even more intermittent trail running, no real focus.
But this year the snow forecast was dim. It’s an El Nino year. The little amount of snow we received quickly turned icy from copious rain. Skiing was just not going to be much fun. I needed something to carry me through. I think I’ve run maybe four 5k’s over the decades, all sort of on a whim, certainly no training plan but I did run one on Thanksgiving with a friend who popped out at the end, “Let’s do a half marathon!” Yeah, you bet. Do the math. By the way, I’m not doing any more races on pavement. Pavement is not in my blood or my shins.
Then I discovered the Horse Butte trail race, a course east of town on trails I knew from mountain biking. 10 miles and, 800 ft of climbing on really narrow trails with evil lurking bunch grass that reaches out and grabs your feet, or hides rocks that smack your pedals. Maybe. I’d think about awhile. Then my friend Yellow and her hyperactive brain decided that her training regimen wouldn’t sit idle during her back surgery rehab. She’d just divvy it up among her friends! I got trail running and pull-ups. Goody. Lucky me. Guess I was committed. I mean, I don’t have a legitimate reason to whine and she does.
I then cajoled a friend from our training studio into training and racing with me. Ah ha! There’s a fool born every minute! But that fool kept me motivated. No way would I have done all the training without her.
We joined a LRS 10k training group and used that weekend group run as our middle distance. She trained on a treadmill during the week when her work schedule interfered. We ran in snow. We ran in temperatures rating in the teens, mincing around the ice. We ran on pavement to the sound of me moaning. We complained, whined, ran, stretched, ice-packed, consulted with our coaches and trainer, wore sexy compression calve sleeves to bed . . . and repeated.
Then the weather finally turned warm and sunny (anything above 50 counts).
Then race weekend arrived with a huge late season near blizzard. Maybe we could re-think this idea. Jen’s shins had been sore this week and my groin pull had buckled my leg and bent me over double in spasms on Wednesday.
But the weather calmed for a few hours this morning as did the recent injuries. No excuses.
We crunched up the frozen trails, slogged through the mud as all those speedier feet melted the snow, and survived to actually kick across the finish line! Our original goal was to finish, anything under 2:30 would be fine. Anything close to 2:15 would be a thrill. Under 2 hours was a dream. Jen at 1:52:25 and me only 2 seconds behind (I‘m the LSD specialist and she‘s the rabbit)! With that result, I think I can retire.
Yellow and Shannah get kudo’s for jobs extraordinarily and patiently done.
I can go back to my periodic launches from a mtb saddle for close inspection of the trail. It’s way more fun.
The Fool (aka Jen) can carry the torch as she trains from the Dirty Half Marathon in June. I’ll be cheering her on with my post-ride margaritas.
