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I love to run.
Ever since I ran my first half block and felt my heart rate go up and my muscles burn from the exertion, I have been hooked. I’ve stepped up to my fair share of races since completing the Couch to 5k program back in April of 2010. I’ve earned the 3.1, the 6.2 and the 13.1. I’ve even earned the title of “ultra” runner with Ragnar but have yet to run more than thirteen miles consecutively.
Confession:
I’m scared too.
I can’t quite pinpoint my reasons behind the fear but as I watch my friends (both in real life and in the universe of bloggerdom) go beyond the 13.1 and onto the full marathon status I’m left standing here wondering why I can’t get beyond what I know. It might be the fear of moving for that long or of not being fast enough. It might be the fear of not being able to finish or not sure I could go out my door and practice running for 20+ miles as I train but one way or another I am bound and determined to get there.
By way of trail running.
To date I’ve completed two trail runs. The first being the Summit Ridge Run (10 miles) back on August 20th and more recently the Dash Point Park Run (Half Marathon). Right now I have a love/hate (mostly hate) relationship with trail running. However, there is just enough love in that part of the relationship that keeps me curious and wanting to do more.
Trail running is nothing like street running. I’m not talking just environment either. Everything about it is different. The pacing, the breathing, the footing, the exertion…whatever I thought trail running was going to be like: I was wrong.
That is why I’m starting to love it more and more.
(though I still hate it!)
Being out on the trails takes a different kind of running brain. You know the one I’m talking about. The one that occasionally falls asleep while your feet hit the pavement only to “wake up” a few minutes later and realize you don’t remember running the last 1/2 mile. The one that can get so lost in a song on your iPod you stop thinking about how fast you’re going or how much longer you have to go before you’re finished. While I’m no expert (shoot, I’m not even knowledgeable beginner yet) it’s these two different running styles that have made trail running a difficult transition and yet I’m compelled to challenge myself beyond the 13.1 mile marker.
- THE ENVIRONMENT: I probably don’t have to state the obvious. With street running you have your basic components of concrete, cars, traffic lights, the occasional dog barking at you and of course the ability to see what’s in front of you and see for a clear distance according to your eyesight capabilities (if I run without contacts I can’t see two feet in front of me). Trail running…no cars, no traffic lights. You still have the occasional dog but usually they are attached to a nice two legger in full control. As for the ability to see what’s in front of me and see for a clear distance according to my eyesight, there have been times on both races I can’t see what’s up ahead because the foliage is so overgrown I feel like I should have strapped a sickle to my back. I’m not sure what I was imagining when I ran into the woods on my first race a few weeks back but the biggest challenge has been not tripping on large roots protruding from the ground or the big rocks I thought were secure going up a an incline. It’s beautiful running in the woods. Trees so old and knotted I felt like I could curl up at its base and it would tell me a story or sing me to sleep. The smell and taste of oxygen going into my lungs as I expel carbon monoxide in a forceful manner trying to keep my footing. The absolute quiet around me because the underlying buzz of the city is no where to be found and the only thing I have playing in my ears is my feet hitting the dirt or if I’m so inclined the low volume of some Ray LaMontagne.
- THE PACING: One of the things I quickly figured out is time has no sense of purpose out on the trails. I went into it thinking if I can run 13 miles in just under two hours on the streets then my first trail race of 10 miles should be well under the two hour mark. It took me two hours and nine minutes to finish (12:59 pace). I went into the second race thinking “okay if I did 10 in 2:09:00, then an additional three miles should put me at about 2:40:00ish”…Three hours and nine minutes later I was crossing over the finish line (14:27 pace). It’s exhausting running for three hours. It’s even more exhausting when there are little critters buzzing around at your feet and you get distracted by the cute little squirrels in the trees…okay I’m making that up to make it seem like I’m getting distracted in the woods but truth be told, it really does take me that long to finish 13 miles and without any distractions. If I was on the streets and it took me that long I would be discouraged. When I first started running, a 14 minute mile was the norm. I was still overweight, had never run in my life and my thighs rubbed together so much is was uncomfortable to run faster. The longer the distances become the more I have to resolve myself to being one with nature for hours and hours at a time.
- THE BREATHING/FOOTING/TECHNIQUES: Any knowledge I brought about street running to the starting line quickly when out the imaginary window the first time I lost my footing. The roots, the rocks, the hanging limbs, the “shit there’s barely room for one person on this freaking trail”, the small bridges, the inclines, the declines…every time I felt like I finally had a good stride going or had my breathing under control the ground beneath me changed and I was either speeding up or slowing down according to what I was trying to avoid or get around. One of the biggest challenges in transitioning to trail running is the amount of time I spend walking. Going up a hill on the streets is about putting your head down and mustering up the energy to get to the top. Going up a hill on the trails is about walking and carefully putting your foot down in a place that isn’t going to cause you to slip or lose your footing. Then the energy exerted trying to get up the hill extends the walking period while I wait for my heart to get from the 180 bpm range back to the 150 range. This is hard work people!
- THE EXERTION: On most street races you come to a water station and you find just that: Water and some sort of electrolyte liquid. On trail races (and ultra races as well but these usually go hand in hand) you come to a water station and you practically find a picnic laid out in front of you. Bananas, potatoes, bagels, energy gels, oranges and whatever else you can cut up into small pieces and put out for the masses. The reason? We’re fucking tired and need the extra calories to keep going. Seriously. On my 13.1 race I wore my Polar heart rate monitor just to see what kind of calorie burn I was getting. I usually burn about 100 calories per mile. When I looked down after crossing the finish line (through the tears of exhaustion) I had burned just under 2000 calories. My entire calorie intake for the day burned in three hours. The other noticeable difference is the camaraderie around the stations. It’s hard not to strike up a conversation with sweat pouring down your face, a banana shoved in your mouth and the shared knowledge that there are still many miles to run before you’re done. People hang out. Catch their breath. Then they move on. Trail running is a special breed of people. You get to know each other. It’s not about finishing first (at least for most trail runners). It’s about staying upright and not getting lost by taking a left when clearly (or not so clearly) you should have taken a right…
- THE PANIC: This has been the biggest challenge in transitioning to trails. This doesn’t happen to everyone (I don’t think) but it has happened to me both times. I’ve panicked mid race. The feeling of being alone on the trail, not having mile markers to tell me how far I’ve gone and how far I have to go, feeling enclosed at times by the trees and bushes and the “Omg, this is never going to end” feeling left me at some points stopped in the middle of the trail and saying out loud “I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE” only to have silence answer me in return. There have been times I’ve wondered if I’ve accidentally wandered off the trail and become confused about where I was going. I’ve cried like a baby for someone to please just show up on the trail so I know I’m not lost and when I finally exited the woods last week during my half marathon I had an emotional break down I wasn’t expecting. Having to say out loud “Tara, you can’t just stop and tell a volunteer you’re done. You have to keep moving in order to get out of the woods” is quite an experience in talking oneself down from Mount St. Freakout.
Pt. Defiance 30k!
If not, at least the food will be good!
Your desire to push yourself, to push your body, to seek/find/destroy the next challenge is inspiration to me.
Sometimes destroying the challenge is just stepping up to undertake it, crossing the start line, crossing the finish line. Sometimes destroying the challenge is finishing 13.1 in the midst of anxiety and getting it done.
Seeing you seek and find your next undertaking – hello 30K makes me want to seek and find my own. Not to keep up. Not to keep pace, but just to keep finding ways to make this life changing journey interesting, and to keep challenging myself and my body.
Thank you for being that inspiration for me. (in this way, and so many others).
xo
Trail runs in Washington state must be so freaking amazing!!! Minnesota is purty, but Washington is even better! I love the photos you posted! I can see why you have such a draw to the challenge of trail running. Pt. Defiance with ROCK! RAWR!