Race Recap: Ragnar Trail Relay Appalachians WV

Jen.  She talked me into this, and because of her strength, I completed the race.

Last year in June I ran as part of an 8-person team in the Ragnar Trail Relay Appalachians WV.  There were a few problems, which you can read about here.  I knew that I had to go back and take the whammy off the race, so when the organizers moved the race to August (to avoid the monsoons) I took that as a sign. With Jen's encouragement, I formed an ultra team, the Mudtastic Muthas.

Leigh.  So strong and steady. She is tiny but fierce.

Joy.  She gutted out 29 miles with almost no training.  What a badass!

Ragnar Trail Relays are a bit different than other relay races, and they are especially different from their road relays.  There are three loops: Green (3.5 miles, easy), Yellow (4.5 miles, medium difficulty), and Red (6.5 miles, also called Mother of Crack.  I kid you not.), and each team member takes turns running one of the loops until every team member has run each loop.  We signed up as a 4-member ultra team, so we had to run every loop twice.  We decided to do it by combining loops; for example, my schedule was as follows:

Leg 1: 9:30 AM.  Green + Yellow. 8 miles.

Wait for Joy, Leigh, and Jen to complete two loops each.

Leg 2: 7:30 PM.  Red + Green. 10 miles.

Wait for team members to rotate through the loops.

Leg 3: 8:00 AM. Yellow + Red. 11 miles.

Trail runners know that it takes longer to run trails, especially at night, and especially when there are lots of hills, and boy, were there hills.  So. Many. Hills. In theory we were all supposed to have trained for this, but life got in the way, and none of us felt as prepared as we could have been.  I was pretty confident after my Burning River Relay last week, but I soon learned that this was hubris.

I continued my tradition of idiocy by getting us lost on the way to the campsite.  Just like last year.  We didn't make it there until 9:30 PM, but luckily Jen and Leigh had staked out a good site for us.  They helped us pitch my GINORMOUS tent (which got us a few smirks from the people camping around us).  I don't care.  I love my tent palace.

My tent is the green one.  It looks smaller here, but believe me,  it's the Taj Majal of tents!

We drank a quick beer and then got to bed.  I had the first leg at 8:30 AM, and I wanted to be fresh for it.  At 7:30 AM the skies opened up, and the evil poured down, exactly like last year.  Freaking Ragnar.  Freaking West Virginia.  The storms delayed the race start times by a half hour, and then I managed to delay our start time by another half hour because I was required to watch the safety video before I left.  GRRRRR. (That is my bear impression.)

The first leg (Green + Yellow) was muggy but manageable.  I felt relaxed, and I was really glad that the trail wasn't trashed from the rain.  Running through riverbeds and knee-deep, sucking mud was not my idea of safety last year.  This year is gonna be GREAT, I thought.

My second leg (Red + Green) was at night, and I was really looking forward to it.  I purposely tried to schedule myself for the night run on the Red Loop because I was so horrible and freaked-out about it last year.  I even bought a new headlamp and knuckle lights.  For one glorious moment my knuckle lights lit up the trail, and then they dimmed to a faint glow so I STILL couldn't see a damn thing.  GRRRRR. Getting through the Green Loop that night took everything I had.  And then I had the melt-down.  After handing off my belt to Joy, I told Jen and Leigh (who were kind enough to see me in and send off Joy), "That's it.  I'm done.  I don't know why I thought I could do this.  I can't.  I'm not trained.  I'm not doing my last leg.  I can't.  You guys don't have to even do this anymore.  I'm sorry I brought you into this."

Ok, at least I didn't cry.  I was pretty negative, though.  Jen and Leigh just smiled and told me to stretch out, hydrate, and go to sleep.  They were kind enough to assure me that I didn't drag them there; they were crazy enough to sign up on their own. After they went to bed, I went to the bonfire and ate a smore, watched some Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, cocooned myself in a hammock, and thought about my life.  Then I went back to the tent, changed, and fell into an exhausted sleep.

When Leigh woke me to tell me that Jen had left for her leg, I felt better.  I decided that if I didn't finish the race I would never forgive myself.  I reminded myself why I wanted to run this. I decided that I was going to finish and be a badass ultra runner. I ate some breakfast and let it digest, and when Jen came back in, I was waiting for her.

The last leg was hard.  And miserable. And pretty awful.  I had decided to run without music, so it took everything I had to keep the Voices at bay. I fell once, and my Garmin crapped out, but I did it.  I finished the relay.

This is EXACTLY how I look when I'm pleased that I finished the relay.  On a side note, look at the woman over my shoulder.  

Most disgusting photo-bomb ever.

When I left the transition tent, I walked to the nearest shady area (the Salomon's tent), and I burst into tears.  Relief? Pain? Exhaustion? Dehydration?  Yes to all of them.  Then I hosed off, changed my clothes, and ate some food.

Here are some thoughts on the race itself:

Good: Kudos to Ragnar for making some changes to the race.  August was hot, but it was better than the cold rains of June.  Also, the catering company did a great job, and there was plenty of decent coffee and hot chocolate for the whole race. This time the portapotties were emptied sooner, and we never ran out of water.  These were all deal-breakers for me, and Ragnar fixed the problems.

Sign in the middle of Ragnar Village

Better: We all agreed that finishing each loop by running through the ultra-runners' tent city was the best part of each run.  The runners there cheered on every single runner at any time, day or night.  It was really uplifting.  During my last loop, a whole line of ultra runners were handing out shots just before the finish.  I didn't indulge because I didn't want to throw up on one of those kind people.  There was another tent-full of runners who were handing out beer to finishers just before the chute.  I didn't take that either, but I wish I had.  Honestly, the thought of running through the ultra-village was what kept me going each time at the end.  They were awesome!

Also, apparently there was a fabulous laser show in the pine forest on the Yellow Loop at night.  I missed that, but Joy and Leigh said it was cool.

The Pine Forest of the Yellow Loop during the day.  Imagine this at night with a laser show and a disco ball.

Best: The best part is that I met my goals, and I did it with my friends.  Thank you Jen, Joy, and Leigh for running this race with me.  Thank you for encouraging me, and thank you for putting up with my bullshit.  I promise I will never ask you to do this again.  I've scratched that itch.

We are the Mudtastic Muthas, and we ROCK!!!

Now I'm going to find something even tougher and scarier for us to do.

This is EXACTLY how I look when I'm thinking of something tougher and scarier to do.

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Outside Again!

     First of all, congratulations to Vera, who won the SLS3 Belt Giveaway.  For those of you who didn't get lucky in the drawing, check them out on Amazon while the price is still reduced!  

 Last week I did thirty miles, all on the treadmill.  All. On. The. Treadmill.  When the snowstorms started up again Monday night, I felt like I would never see the sun again, but then Saturday happened.

The sun DOES exist in Ohio!

     When I finished my cleaning, I put on a tee shirt and capris and ran part of Sand Run Park.  It was windy, hilly, muddy, and glorious.  Usually Saturday is my take-it-easy-day where I walk on the treadmill while watching Supernatural, but NO WAY was I going to let a 68 degree day go by without running in the Metroparks.  I told myself that I would run super-slowly, but I lied.  Going up and down those hills in the first 2.5 miles made me feel like I was flying, and I just let myself go.  Of course, what goes up must come down, so the next 2.5 miles after the turnaround were considerably slower, but WHO CARES????

This is EXACTLY how I look when I feel like I'm flying down Sand Run.

Do you see me?  

     As a bonus, I ran 10 miles today in the sunshine for part of the Medina Half Marathon route with my running buddy Kristin.  We had a great time running around Medina, mostly streets but a bit of trail by Lake Medina.

     While we were running, I told Kristin the following story about her daughter, to whom I taught AP Literature and Composition:

     We (AP Lit. students and I) were analyzing Carpe Diem poems, looking at how different poets use the same motifs to convey the theme of Seize the Day; then we talked about how we could embrace the moment.  I told the students that I had recently signed up to run a leg of the relay for the Akron Marathon, and that next year I could probably run the half marathon.  Mattie said, "Wait. Haven't you already run more than any of the legs of the relay?"
     
     I replied, "Well, yes, but I don't think I'm ready to take on the half marathon this year."

     And then Mattie said, "Then what the hell are we doing talking about Carpe Diem?"

     Huh.

     That day I went home and registered for the Akron Half Marathon, and the rest is history.

   

I teach some pretty smarty-pants kids.

     I remembered the lesson of Carpe Diem today as I ran with a fun group of people because I was thinking of how I'm seizing the day this year:

1st time running on Burning River relay team (Leg 7--holla!) with the Mother Runners
Ragnar Trail Appalachians WV ultra team relay (woot!  First time on an ultra team! 30 miles of trails!)
1st time running back-to-back races (8k and half marathon for Rite Aid Cleveland Marathon Series)
My first marathon (Akron Marathon)

     All of these goals scare the hell out of me, so I know they must be worthy.  Now I'm going to work my ass off to achieve those goals because-- CARPE DIEM, Peeps!

This is EXACTLY how I look when I say, "Carpe Diem, Peeps!"

How will you seize the day this year? This week?  Tomorrow?  Start by running happy, Peeps!

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What's on the Table?

It is January 24, 2016, and I haven't finished figuring out my racing goals.  This is what I've got so far in actual registrations:

May 14: Rite Aid Cleveland Marathon 8k

May 15: Rite Aid Cleveland Marathon Half

I'm really excited about these two races for several reasons.  The first reason:

I'm a #RunCLE Ambassador!  Yay!

The second reason is because I've never run two big races on consecutive days.  The closest I've come is running two trail races, a 5 miler on a Saturday and an 8 miler on a Sunday.  This race series excites me because it gives me a new kind of mental and physical challenge.  How will I race them?  Will I treat the half marathon as my weekly long run?  My gut tells me that I am not capable of running a race without trying to PR, and the Cleveland course has a special place in my heart.  It is much more runner-friendly than the Akron course.  The only reason I haven't done so well in Cleveland is because of the weather (last year) and the time of year, since I don't train well during the winter months.  This year I have a treadmill, so things may be different.

May 28: Medina Half Marathon

I signed up for this half on the day that I ran it last year.  It has been a tradition for me since it started three years ago.  I haven't PR'd on this race either for pretty much the same reasons as with Cleveland.  I enjoy this race, though, because I work in Medina and I love to see my colleagues, my students, and my former students on and around the course.

The medal is pretty sweet, too.

August 6: Burning River 100 Mile Relay

I will be leg 7 in an 8-person relay team for the Mother Runners.  My leg is about 15 miles, and it will happen in the wee hours of the night.  I'm really excited about this because I've volunteered for Burning River twice, and it was fascinating to see the runners.  This distance will be the longest racing distance I've ever done at one time.

August 12-13: Ragnar Trail Appalachians WV Ultra Relay

Ok, I know that in my review I said I'd never run this again, but This. Is. Different.  I have got to get this one done right, and these are different circumstances:

1. It is in August, not June, so hopefully it will be warmer with no monsoons.  Thank you, Ragnar, for changing the date after years of Tent City devastation.

2.  My father won't be in a coma in the hospital, so I won't be frantically trying to get cell phone reception in the middle of a forest in the mountains so I can find out if he is alive.  I'm putting the rest of my family on notice: You all had better take care of yourself during this weekend.  I have to take the whammy off this race, and I can't deal with your problems, too, while I'm doing it.

3.  This time I will be part of a 4-woman ultra team with Jennifer, Leigh, and Joy.  I enjoy running with these ladies, and based on last year's race, I enjoy camping with Jennifer and Leigh.  I'm anticipating a more relaxed experience this year, while pushing myself physically.  This time I will be running a total of 30 miles in 24 hours, about 10 miles at a time.

4.  This time I will bring more hoodies, more towels, and lots more food.  I will enjoy myself.  I will eat lots of Smores, and I will drink beer and take naps, and do yoga, when and if I feel like it.

I will run through this arch with flaming torches again.  Oh yes, I will.

You can see that my calendar is concentrated in May and August.  Yes, I am still stupid, but this time I will be smarter about being stupid.

I'm not finished with races.  There will be 5Ks and 10Ks and maybe a 15K sprinkled in there, but the race I haven't registered for yet, well, you know what that is.  And if you don't?  Wait until I write about it next week.

Until then, run happy, Peeps!

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Race Recap: WV RAGNAR Trail Race

I've only been home for less than a day, and my head is still spinning.  Jenn has informed me that I'm suffering from this:

For the past few weeks, I have been consumed with preparing for my first trail race, the Ragnar Trail Appalachians Relay in West Virginia.  I've been so excited because this is different from everything I've ever done as a runner.  Usually I am a road runner, so I had to buy a set of trail shoes and change my whole attitude about running to participate in this race.  Plus, it involved camping.

Erin picked me up on Thursday afternoon, and we drove to Bruceton Mills, WV.  It was supposed to take us 3.5 hours, but we had some slight deviations along the way.  First, every road trip I've ever been on has involved a Starbucks Frappucino, and since we had limited phone service, it was difficult to find a Starbucks on the way.  We perservered and found one, though.

Next, when we arrived at Big Bear Lake, we should have just followed the signs to Big Bear Lake Camping Ground, but instead we listened to Siri, who told us to turn onto a series of back roads that eventually became a single-track dirt road.  It was scary.  When the road seemed to lead deep into the forest, Erin had had enough, and she backtracked to the main road, turned right. . .where we saw (500 feet away) the entrance to Ragnar Village.  sigh.

We dropped off our gear at our Tent and then we had to shuttle back to the Village.  The line was huge, so the women next to us got the bright idea to hitchhike with incoming racers, so we got into the back of a nice woman's van, and she drove us back to the campsite.

Erin and I are in the back of a van.  Down by the river.

Our canopy set up in Tent City

We set up our tents and canopies together--two 8-person relay teams and one 4-person ultra team.  The sun came out for a tiny bit, so we took some pictures.

The only time the sun came out and it was in my eyes.

Erin and I pose with our team mascot: Sasquatch.  Our team was The Squatch Hunters.

That night a fierce storm rocked Tent City.  Tents and canopies were knocked down, smashed, and blown away.  Jenn and I braced the walls of our tent during the worst of it, and Steve and Mike actually stood outside in the storm, holding onto the METAL poles of the canopies.  Heroes.


The race started on Friday morning.  It was exciting to watch the teams start; Jenn was our first runner, and she ran the Green Loop--3.5 miles of trail.  When she got back, the next runner (Renee) did the Yellow Loop (4.6 miles), and when she got back, Mandy ran the Red Loop (6.7 miles).  The pattern continued through all eight runners of our team until we all ran each loop.  I was Runner 7, so I had a lot of down time at first.  My first run was on the Green Loop at 4:00 pm.  Of course, as soon as I started, the heavens opened up all over me, so I ran in a sloppy earth soup mixed with roots and rocks.

Unfortunately, I didn't take pictures of the trails, partly because of the rain and partly because my phone was blowing up every time I got a pocket of cell-phone reception, and I needed to conserve the battery.  I have awesome running friends, though, and they have graciously allowed me to use their pictures.

First round relays line up in the shoot.

Transition tent photo.  I am in orange, waiting for Brittney to pass the bib.

Trail among the ferns.  Gorgeous.  Flat and easy, right?

This is not a riverbed to admire.  This is the trail.  You run in the river.

Now add mud and running in the dark to the picture.  Can you tell what is just mud and what is an ankle-breaking rock?  Yeah, me neither.

My second run was the Red Loop, also known as Mother of Crack, and I ran it starting at 3:00 in the morning.  I was really excited to run this loop, as it is the most challenging, but I was very nervous, too, because I was going to run it in the pitch-dark.  I received lots of pep talks from runners who had gone before me, some from my team, some from Ragnar Village, and I was worried.  Not gonna lie, Peeps, this trail was not just challenging; it was downright dangerous when you factor in the torrential downpours we experienced.  The Red Loop was the most technical trail I have ever run; it was amazing and terrifying all in one.  I would like to run this trail on a dry day in the morning, but it was not meant to be.  Let's see what I can remember:

The first two miles were extremely scary and technical.  I remember climbing up and down boulders. Luckily some runners helped me through some of it (before they took off ahead of me).  I remember mud going up to my knees.  The middle miles were in The Swamp, and I liked those better.  I remember actual stretches of running, not just walking or climbing, and I remember winding around big, flowery bushes and running over bridges.  The last miles sucked hard.  There was a two mile stretch that was completely uphill.  I didn't think it was possible.  The mud made climbing difficult, and there were a few times that I thought I would lose a shoe.  It took me 2:40 to run those 6.7 miles, if run is the word you can use.

When I came back to hand off to Erin, Jenn was there, and she asked me if I was ok, which leads me to believe that I looked as traumatized as I felt.  Even better, when I went to spray off my legs with the hose, I saw that there was no water.  Anywhere.  None.  The village had run out of water.  I had started to shiver (either from shock or cold or both), so my only choice was to warm up at the bonfire, which of course hardened the mud on my legs.  sigh.

My last loop was the Yellow Loop, and I was scheduled for 3:00 pm, but there was a forecast of another terrible storm, so Ragnar allowed teams to double up their last loops to make the race end sooner, so the run happened at 11:00 am.  This was great news for me because it meant I got to run with Leigh, with whom I used to run until she moved to Maryland.  Leigh and I really enjoyed this run.  It had a little bit of everything: rocks, hills, water, and a gorgeous pine tree forest.  We had a great time running and chatting, and we finished it in 1:23.

Leigh and I warm up at the bonfire pre-Loop.  Look at the bearded dude behind us warming his bra!

The Squatch Hunters met us at the finish, and we collected our medals.  Renee had to leave early, so they took a picture with her while Leigh and I were running:

The Squatch Hunters are happy to be done.

I've had some time to process this experience, and I still don't know what to make of it.  The Squatch Hunters were laughing at what they thought they'd read in this post, and I'm not gonna lie; during the Red Loop and just after it, I had a very definite opinion about this race and the way it is organized, but time (and wine) mellows everything, and I do know that I tend to develop "race amnesia," so I've changed my opinions a little bit.  Here is the breakdown:

The Good:  There was a charging station at Ragnar Village, and that was a big help. The trails were gorgeous.  I loved seeing my friends.  I had  new experiences with trail racing.  I took some risks.  I learned how badass I can be.  Plus, I ate some delicious smores, with quality chocolate, supplied by Salomon.

The Bad:  I hated never feeling warm or dry.  Of course, nobody can control the weather, and the fact that I didn't pack enough (or any) hoodies is my fault entirely.  My overall mood probably would have been much different if I had just worn heavier clothing while waiting to run. Plus, I needed rainboots for the mud.

The catering company was definitely not a plus. Their primary duty was to keep us supplied with coffee, and they failed miserably.  It took me six attempts in two days to get coffee, and when I did get it, it was disgusting.  C'mon, people.  How hard is it to make coffee?

Many people didn't like the pasta dinner that came with the registration, but I didn't think it was so terrible.  Some people had stomach aches the next day, but who knows if any of that was because of the dinner?

The Ugly:  This is where I really had to reign in my temper and think about being fair.  The Ragnar events are expensive commercial races (My ticket cost 160 bucks), and because of this, I noticed that Ragnar attracts people who like themed races (think Warrior Dash, Color Run, etc.).  Many of the people I met and ran with were trail runners, and I enjoyed being around them.  It sounds cliche, but trail runners are good people. They are extremely considerate of the racing environment, trails, and people.  When there is no coffee or water, the trail runners shrug their shoulders and crawl into their sleeping bags to wait it out. They are true badasses.  I am not a trail runner, but I am trying to become one, or at least run like one.

Some of the people I met were NOT trail runners, and some were not runners at all.  These people were rude and inconsiderate.  They were the people who took showers after each loop or for more than half an hour.  They meticulously scrubbed every inch of their bodies and rinsed out their clothing while there was a long line to spray down at the hoses.  They took and consumed and used, and when there was no more, they complained.

I don't want to be one of those people; however, when the water ran out, I lost my temper.  The water tanks were in clear sight of the village, and I feel that organizers should have had a better idea of how much water they needed.  I'm not asking for much; I just want to spray off the trail-gunk before a nap.    I realize that the "Commercial Racers" abused the system with the water consumption, but a part of me thinks that race directors should be able to control this.

One way might be to make all runners aware that there is a limited amount of water, and considering how many times I was told that this was a cupless race, I know there were plenty of opportunities to educate people about water consumption.  If Ragnar chose not to do this, they had to be prepared for the consequences by keeping a close eye on the tanks and refilling them promptly.  They didn't do this, and it caused a lot of trouble.

Another "Ugly" may be because of the circumstances.  I am not sure it was responsible of Ragnar to allow us to run the Red Loop in the dark.  I didn't hear of any serious injuries, thank God, but the whole time I was out there, I kept thinking "What if?"  There were many opportunities to seriously hurt myself, even though I was super careful, and I wonder about the people who were going into this situation without any knowledge of trail-running.

When I came home, I told my husband that I would never run another Ragnar event.  I probably won't, but a tiny part of me wishes I could run it again to "get it right."  This time I would take warm clothes and stock up on better food.  I still think that if the temperature had been at least ten degrees warmer, I would have loved it (even with the rain).

It was wonderful to try something different, and I liked seeing so many great trail runners.  They are inspirational badasses.  Oh, and the medal is pretty badass, too:

It can open cans!  It can open beer bottles!  It can turn bolts!  It can cut down small trees!

I want to thank Jenn Pierce for putting together this experience.  Her smiling face and cheerful attitude reminded us all that the best part about the race was being together.

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Gonna Do a Ragnar Trail Race!

Yes, Peeps, it is true.  I, an avowed trail-hater, am going to do a Ragnar Trail Event.  Before I tell you about it, let me remind you of why I have said I don't like trails:  Click here to revisit that post.  Go ahead.  I'll wait.

Back so soon?  Ok, so months ago, Jenn, who is a trail runner, put a call out for a team of eight to run a Ragnar Trail relay in the Appalachians.  The only thing I knew about Ragnar is that usually it involves a bunch of people sleeping in a van, and I was curious about how that would work in the Appalachian Mountains, so I looked it up on this link.  Then I laughed myself silly, had a glass of wine, and forgot about it.

With the winter weather being so terrible, the road conditions were not really safe, so I started joining Jenn and Renee (and other trail runners) for Sunday long, slow runs.  These were slow.  Really slow.  But they kicked my ass all the same.  No, seriously, my glutes were getting a great workout from all the hills we had to climb.  Plus, the views were gorgeous; in my previous posts I've compared the Cuyahoga Valley National Park to Narnia.

The bridge to Narnia

We look darned happy in Narnia

Most of these runs consisted of a lot of walking, which my previous posts have explained that I am NOT ok with, but I could tell that they were sharpening my focus and strengthening my legs and my core.  Jenn and Renee patiently and repeatedly explained to me that EVERYONE walks the hills, and that I should use that time to look at the scenery and enjoy it.

It has taken me four years, but I can now say that I've grown to like trail running.  I don't think it has anything to do with trails, either.  The change had to come from me.  Being ok with walking a hill on a trail actually meant that I had to be ok with myself, and that is a daily battle for me.  Trails allow me to be less. . . intense, less driven.  This may only be because I've never raced a trail before, and that may change, but for now I can admit that I can appreciate trail running.  But I'm still deathly afraid of ticks.

Back to the race.  Several weeks after Jenn initially posted about the Ragnar Trail Relay, she re-posted, saying a team member had dropped.  This time I thought about it and checked my calendar.  Then I held my breath, made the sign of the Cross, and told her I would do it.  THEN I had a glass of wine.

Look at this, Peeps.  This is what I will be doing!




We have two regular teams and one ultra team, and we will all be camping together from Thursday night to Sunday morning.  I haven't been camping for years, but I think this will be fun.  The two things that sealed the deal were all-you-can-eat-smores and access to showers.  I can do anything for three days if I know I can take a shower.  In anticipation of the race, I bought and baptized my first pair of trail shoes:

Love my Sauconies!

I don't really know what I'm doing, Peeps; this is all completely new to me.  The only thing I know is that I will be running three trail loops: the Green loop (easiest, 3.5 miles), the Yellow loop (a little more difficult, 4.6 miles), and the Red loop (most technical, 6.7 miles).  Based on Jenn's spreadsheet of times, I think I'll be doing the most difficult loop at one in the morning.  Gulp.

Check my post next week.  Will a bear eat me?  Will I freak out during a thunderstorm?  Will there be enough beer and smores?  Send me some love and luck, Peeps.  I will need it.

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Run Fail

Today I had a ten mile trail run planned.  It was going to be so perfect: I had posted in our Ragnar group that I wanted ten miles, but I don't know how the trails in Peninsula connect, and I was afraid I wouldn't make it out without having to eat a limb.  Steve picked up the bait and offered to lead the group.  At 8 AM I was fueled, rested, and ready to run.

This may or may not be one of the views of the run.  I was too busy avoiding roots and rocks to look up.

The group started from Pine Hollow, running and chatting, and about half a mile into the run I realized that I. Just. Couldn't. Go. On.  My heart was racing, and I started to see spots, so I knew I had to stop.  I sent everyone on without me, and I put my head between my knees and tried to regulate my breathing.  I then started walking.  I had to walk for the next mile before I was able to start running again.  Then, all of a sudden, the feeling was gone and I felt great.  I increased my speed a bit and only walked the steep hills.

Luckily for me, the group had left trail markers (including a smiley face), so I followed those until I found Jen and Mandy, who had stopped just before the end of the loop to show me the way out.  We ran together to the parking lot to find the group waiting for the second loop.  I felt terrible that I had held people back, but they were super-cool about all of it, and we did another trail.  This time I had no problems whatsoever keeping up with the group, and we all finished with seven and a half miles.  Given that I had wasted a lot of our time with my issues, I was happy to stop there.

This is EXACTLY how I look when running trails.  Except I'm not a dude.  And I was actually bent over gasping, head between my knees.  So, other than that.

When I got home, I suddenly felt sick to my stomach, and the dizziness returned.  I won't go into detail here, but what happened next leads me to believe that I have the flu. My husband informed me that I DON'T have the flu; I am just over-tired and hungry.  One peanut butter-and-strawberry-preserves-sandwich and a nap later, and I do feel better, but my stomach is still fluttering.

Flu?  Heat?  Exertion? Just weirdness?

I dunno.  I do know that I have been under a tremendous amount of stress lately, and running has kept me out of trouble (see what I did there?).  One thing I know about myself is that when my stress suddenly lifts (as it did yesterday), my body turns on me.  "Screw you," it says to me, "I kept you going through the end of the school year, endless meetings, two half marathons, and a house guest.  I deserve to act up a bit."  Yes, Body, you deserve some attention.

I plan to spend the rest of the day napping between laundry breaks.  I've taken care of everyone else for a long time; it's time to take care of myself.

Coming up next week:  I'll tell you why I've taken to running trails when I've devoted many posts to hating them.  Until then, run happy, Peeps!

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