Only The Strong Survive

"I will not be forgotten.

This is my time to shine.

I've got the scars to prove it,

Only the strong survive.

 

I'm not afraid of dying;

Everyone has their time.

Life never favored weakness.

Welcome to the pride."

~Five Finger Death Punch

 

 

You may not be a fan of heavy rock or alternative or whatever you want to classify 5FDP as. However, this song went on my playlist because the lyrics SPEAK to me. I vowed to myself that I wouldn't be weak this training cycle. I swore that I wouldn't make excuses to quit or lessen the burden of training. I promised that I would find out exactly how deep I can dig and just how strong I am. I wanted to be one of those runners. You know, the ones who run in the pouring rain at 4am because it's the only time they could run? One of those runners who never gives up because life throws them a curve ball. I think they could justifiably be called a 'pride'.

So when I got called into work unexpectedly Wednesday night I had to make some quick adjustments on the fly. A planned 10 mile run got swapped with cross training. I banged out 40 minutes worth of strength training before I raced off to work the 4 to midnight shift. I promised myself that I would run my 10 miles as soon as I got home even though I had been up since 6am already. I moved 10 foot long pipes back and forth through our shop all night. I dealt with a major crisis with a radioactive source that could have proved dangerous but thankfully didn't. I wondered every minute how I could survive a run after this but reminded myself that I will feel worse at Burning River and probably have more than 10 miles to go at that point. I needed to be strong!

Then my boss put another wrench in my plans. Two of our guys are down sick so I needed to come back in at 8am and put in another shift. That meant getting home at 1am, sleeping for 5 hours, and then going back to work. No way to put 10 miles in unless I wanted to be in a coma by lunch time. I dragged myself back into the shop and loaded all of those 10 foot pipes on a truck for our customer BY HAND because we're not allowed to touch them with a fork truck or crane. I loaded heavy castings for another customer and then started working on some different castings we had in the lab. I was exhausted. I was starving. And all I could think about was running.

I begged my brain not to give my legs excuses. I bargained with myself. "Just get on the treadmill and see what you can do." Finally, my relief arrived and I was able to head home. I stopped and picked up some fish food on the way. I puttered around the kitchen sorting mail and drinking water when I got home. I fed the fish some new food. I basically did anything to avoid putting on my running shoes. Then Shane woke up and I knew it was now or never.

I asked him to get Gem off the bus and pick up Ash so I could run and he agreed. (I'm a lucky wife, huh?) I changed and headed down to the basement like a prisoner headed for the electric chair. I popped in a movie and started out slowly. My legs protested at first but then it started to feel better. The knot of worry and stress in my chest released and I felt like I could breathe again. My stride started to loosen up and I was able to get close to the pace I was supposed to hit.

I didn't push myself to hit the recommended paces. I know that being awake for close to 40 hours with only a nap in the middle wasn't the preferred state for training. I went with the flow and even paused to grab some cookies for a quick sugar hit when I started to fade. The next thing I knew:

BAM! Ten miles done!

 

And now I know.... I am one of the strong. I will survive whatever life throws at me: job, personal, or anything else. I survived crazy work hours, a long way to run on the treadmill, and my fourth ACSM CPT class. And I'll survive working again tomorrow and whatever it may bring. Welcome to the pride!

 

 

Calibration Celebration

Have you ever thought, "10 minute miles on the treadmill feels so much harder than outside." Or, "Why am I huffing and puffing at recovery pace on this hamster wheel?" Or maybe even, "Wow! This feels so much easier than the same pace on the road!" If so you've probably wondered if your treadmill's calibration could be off. So here's how to find out.

Disclaimer: I didn't figure this out myself or even locate the procedure myself. However, I did decide that it would be nice to have it laid out step by step with some pictures.

Step 1: Gather the necessary supplies: Tape measure (preferably a soft one), bright colored duct tape, a notepad, a pen or pencil, a stopwatch, and a calculator. Or you can do what I did and use your iPhone/smartphone as a stopwatch, calculator, and camera.

easy peasy

Step 2: Measure your treadmill belt using the tape measure. I found that it worked best if I folded my treadmill up and then wrapped the tape measure around. Record your measurement in inches. (Mine was 112.75")

Step 3: Place a piece of brightly colored tape on the treadmill belt.

Orange worked well

Step 4: Set your treadmill to your normal running speed while you stand on the side rails or off to the side. (My treadmill takes a minute to get up to full speed so I waited to start timing until it was humming along nicely.)

10 minutes/mile according to the treadmill

Step 5: Wait for the tape to come around again and then start your timer. Start counting on the next appearance of the tape at the starting point (one rotation) and continue counting until you reach 50 rotations of the belt. Record the time it took.

Time to reach 50 rotations

Step 6: Do some math. The speed of your belt in MPH = (50 x length of your belt in inches x 0.0568) / the time you recorded.

(50 x 112.75 x 0.0568) = 320.21 

320.21 / 51.3 = 6.24 MPH

So the 6 MPH button on my treadmill actually causes the belt to spin at almost 6 1/4 MPH! I conducted the experiment again at Shane's average running speed (8.0 MPH) and found that actually runs at 8.1 MPH! 

So now I can either adjust my time/distance for what I know the actual pace is or I can remind myself that a 10 minute mile pace outside feels easier because it's ACTUALLY a 10 minute mile pace instead of 9:35 per mile. I'll probably stick with recording the treadmill's distance and time readout since I'm lazy but it's nice to know I'm not just being a baby about the hamster wheel!

Burning River

This weekend was amazing! I volunteered for the Burning River 100 Mile Endurance Run in Ohio. My job was course sweeping from Station Road (mile 40) to Pine Lane (mile 60). I got to run with a local man named Glenn and we picked up course markings, garbage, and did our best to help runners who were at risk of missing cutoffs.

I left home at around 11:45am on Saturday and drove about 2.5 hours to meet Glenn at the mile 60 aid station. There we helped the volunteers and cheered in the lead runners. It was amazing to see the front of the pack in action! I recognized Connie Gardner when she came through. What an outstanding athlete! She finished in 17:46 for first woman.

Connie at mile 60

The Pine Lane aid station was decked out for race director, Joe Jurczyk's, birthday. There was even cake! I was a little sad to leave to start sweeping but I met a lot of really great people and got to see some of what it takes to make an ultra happen.

Glenn and I left his car at mile 60 and headed out to Station Rd. When we arrived there were only 3 runners left to come through. We assisted by eating up a lot of the remaining food so the volunteers wouldn't have to pack it out! When the first of the remaining runners came through he was in bad shape. I didn't get his name but he was having cramps all through his legs. I helped him into a chair and got him food, drink, and massaged his calves. I'm in awe of the fact that he got back up not 5 minutes later and continued the race. Two more runners came in but dropped. It broke my heart but I know that feeling of being totally spent. Glenn and I waited to let the gentleman who had continued get well ahead of us before starting out.

We took our time, collecting course markings and Glenn told me about the history of the trail and the race. I had brought a couple bags and Glenn had brought a giant plastic sack. We began splitting up the course markings by type. I carried the flags, plates and paper signs while Glenn collected the wooden stakes the plates had been stapled to. I'm not sure it was totally fair for Glenn to carry all the weight but I'm not sure I could have done 20 miles with all those stakes! As we reached each aid station we emptied our goods (and their last food supplies!) before moving on.

A runner entering Pine Lane, mile 60.

The gentleman with the cramping issue unfortunately missed the cutoff at the next aid station by only a few minutes. We encountered him a few hundred yards out getting sick in the woods. Thankfully a volunteer had come out to meet him and help him in. Once he was comfortably settled at the aid station I gave him a high five and told him how much I admired his tenacity. It was a little like meeting a celebrity in my mind.

Glenn and I continued on and were thankful not to have to sweep anymore runners. At each aid station we always encountered one or two drops and I continued to feel the sting of those three letters every runner hates, DNF - Did Not Finish. I sincerely wished I could somehow give them my energy, fresh legs, or just a hug.

As night fell I started to struggle with the familiar demons in my mind. I have no idea why I get so stressed out by night running but I do. Glenn and I knew that the last runner was 45 minutes ahead of us so we wanted to do some actual running instead of hiking. Throughout the twilight period we got in some good miles and I realized Glenn is a lot faster than I am. As darkness fell I ran by the light of the moon for awhile and I was enjoying myself, which surprised me. Then Glenn began to pull ahead and I got a little freaked out being out there 'alone' knowing that he was pulling the course markers ahead of me. I pushed a little too hard and wiped out. It was then that I finally pulled out my headlamp and turned it on the medium setting. It helped immensely.

I remembered that Glenn had told me the course followe the blue blazes from the last aid station on to 60 miles. I felt a little better realizing I wouldn't get lost so I slowed down to a comfortable pace. Thankfully Glenn realized I had fallen off the back only a little while later and came back for me. We went a little slower from there on out, only running on towpath and road sections.

During the last section I finally felt the joy of night running. I wasn't scared anymore and I began to have more confidence in my ability to navigate the tougher singletrack sections. Shortly before mile 60 we encountered our last runner. He was being paced by a woman, his wife I think, and he was surly at best. His wife told us that they had missed a turn and gone several extra miles. I didn't have the heart to tell them they had already missed the cutoff. I asked if they needed anything and they said they were okay. I told them we were going to take a break to rearrange our packs and they should continue on.

Glenn and I rested and reorganized for 10 or 15 minutes and then continued on more slowly than before. A mile out from the aid station we caught the pair again. This time the runner turned on Glenn and I and went spastic. He told us to 'quit riding his @$$' and several other not-so-nice things. I knew he was tired and feeling the strain so I assured him that Glenn and I needed another break to rearrange the markings we were carrying. Glenn told me, "Don't worry, they aren't going anywhere." He meant the aid station but the runner and his pacer turned on us again. I really thought this bear of a man was going to strangle Glenn and I right there in the woods. I tried to placate him and tell him that Glenn meant the aid station people wouldn't leave without everyone coming in and they would be waiting for Glenn and I. I told him it was my first time on the trail and Glenn knew I was worried about getting lost. It didn't really calm down the runner but his pacer turned him around and they left. Glenn and I spent another 15 minutes carefully going through all our marking and organizing them into neat bundles for the aid station drop.

Thankfully we didn't run into the runner and pacer again until the aid station but when we did they ripped into us again. I quickly ducked into the restroom and stayed there until Glenn was ready to drive me to my car. When I emerged the runner and his pacer were gone and I was able to chat with some of the volunteers about my first experience on the trail and what I thought about it. I let them know about the unclear markings that led the runner astray and they said a couple people had issues in the same spot. They promised to let the RD know so it would be better next year. The encounters with the angry runner are the only bad memories of this experience and, since I understand missing a cutoff and getting lost, I still don't view it as too bad, just a little scary being confronted like that in the middle of the night in the deep woods.

Another runner at mile 60.

Glenn drove me back to mile 40 to pick up my car and then I followed him to mile 80, the covered bridge aid station, to help out there. I wish I would have taken some pictures during our sweep but my arms were loaded with markers and I didn't want to kill my phone battery in case we needed to call for assistance for an injured runner.

At the mile 80 aid station I was introduced to the aid station captain, Heidi. I told her I still felt pretty good and would be willing to pace if a runner needed it. Maybe it was coincidence or maybe providence but a runner sitting next to us looked up and asked, "Would you pace me?" I told him sure and he told me he was slow. I assured him slow was good for me. He introduced himself as Enoch and told me he had been having stomach issues since mile 60. I immediately went to work asking him about his food, hydration and energy levels. He assured me he was eating and drinking and was okay to continue. We waited a few minutes to let his cup of soup settle and then headed out.

From mile 80 the course makes a 4.7 mile loop that brings runners back to within a quarter mile of the covered bridge. At first Enoch was walking but soon he was jogging. I felt in awe of his ability to keep moving after covering 80 miles, 20 of them without being able to keep much down. During a steep climb he was able to take a gel and keep it down. I chatted away about meaningless things: how much I want to do a 100, work, school, kids, etc. It seemed like he got sick less if I kept him talking. I don't know if it was the right or wrong thing but it seemed to work and soon enough we were entering the next aid station. I got Enoch into a chair and made him promise to sit until he had eaten and drank something and let it settle. He promised me he wouldn't drop there. I wasn't willing to leave if he might drop. After he was comfortable I headed down the road back to the covered bridge.

Covered Bridge aid station, mile 80.

Glenn and I hung out with Julia (@ROJrunning) and cheered on runners. I started to stiffen up and get cold after an hour or two though. I wasn't really ready to go but I wanted my bed. I made my way to the parking lot and headed home thinking about what an amazing feat all of the runners were accomplishing. I also felt even more determined to be among them someday.

I now know that I have to dig a lot deeper and train harder than I ever could fathom. I saw runners with blood running from cuts, chafing and blisters. I saw runners whose feet looked like shriveled marshmallows and who couldn't hold down food but still didn't quit. It was really amazing to take part in something so much bigger than myself, to get outside of my own training and see what the toughest of the tough can do. Hopefully I'll be counting myself a member of this elite circle in 2013!

All total, I ran/hiked about 25 miles and got 8.5 hours on my feet!