It's taken me almost two months to put down in writing what I took away from Vermont. On the one hand I was not fully invested emotionally in McNaughton in Vermont 200 - but another side had everything riding on that finish. In my heart I'd been far more engaged in my long-term running goals (as in 2011), and short-term I'd taken a mental exit on the Chuckanut 50k offramp and had for the better part of early 2010 been visualizing chasing Ellie Greenwood and Shawna Wilskey. The finish line of the Chuckanut 50k was ultimately more rewarding than my experience in Vermont. Alternately, McNaughton gave me something to plan for, make lists for, it was the answer to the question: "what's new with you?"
Actually running McNaughton was of course the adventure I wanted it to be. While somewhat emotionally detached ( mean how can you let yourself fully realize what you are about to push your body to do), I was a richter scale of expectations - and not before the race, but during the race. One moment I knew I would finish, and the next I was feeling that sinking realization that maybe this the worst that could happen.
When after only two loops, having begun at 6 p.m. and 20 miles in, finally relying on the light of my headlamp, after these mere 20 miles and my knee starts locking, what else can you think but, "well, that was a waste of money." Unwilling to accept that my McNaughton story ended here, after the third loop, race director Andy Weinberg chipped a shard of ice off an ice block and for the better part of an hour I sat in the rental car icing, massaging and "sticking." I think it was my right knee.. maybe, don't remember. It was the opposite of whatever knee had been hurting the week prior. Back and forth, back and forth, what will I do? Sleep or keep going? Stop or go? Acceptance... I would run through the night and then I would quit. No one would judge me because by all means I should stop right now. This was true injurious pain. Complete Overtraining and Lack of Rest had chosen now to show themselves.
Throughout the next two loops I massaged my knee and my leg. My loops were not fast. By the morning I decided I would not stop yet. However my lack of ability to run As Expected threw me into a cranky baby state. And plus the sun was out and The Sleepiness was upon me. When urged by the crew member of another runner to get moving because I was spending too much time in the aid station I lashed out: "I have to make a decision here. My knee f*cking hurts and if I don't take the time with it now, it will only be more time out there!" I actually start crying - less than 24 hours and I'm already crying. I think we hugged and made up later Friday or Saturday night. Time is a little mushy and it's hard to distinguish the order of events.
On one night as I made my climb up the start of the loop I found I was being led, about 20 to 30 feet ahead, by a porcupine. Silly. Didn't he know I hate it when my pacer gets that far ahead of me? The oddest thing is that the porcupine appeared again as I came downhill on the end of that same loop. Again waddling just ahead of me with it's abundant thorny rear wagging. It turned off the trail when it was ready, but not before, and definitely not at my urging.
After the race, Tony, Jess Mullen and Jess's friend Mary and I went out to dinner. Mostly it was not a great dinner, but the Ben & Jerry's shopping trip for dessert dissolved any hunger that remained. We shared our experiences. Jess, crazy Jess for finishing her 100 mile race, and Tony hiding in the shack, and lovely Mary who tells a story like no other... it was great. Mary suggested that perhaps the porcupine is my totem.. and the best part is, Google confirmed it: http://www.linsdomain.com/totems/pages/porcupine.htm.
That leaves out a lot of the story. Tony and I ate a lot of food. Not good food, just a lot... and that was wonderful. We both made it to 150 miles, which may well have to be good enough as I'm not sure either of us have any ambition to go back to finish this one. 2011 includes some travel for each of us, but not to Vermont.
Actually running McNaughton was of course the adventure I wanted it to be. While somewhat emotionally detached ( mean how can you let yourself fully realize what you are about to push your body to do), I was a richter scale of expectations - and not before the race, but during the race. One moment I knew I would finish, and the next I was feeling that sinking realization that maybe this the worst that could happen.
When after only two loops, having begun at 6 p.m. and 20 miles in, finally relying on the light of my headlamp, after these mere 20 miles and my knee starts locking, what else can you think but, "well, that was a waste of money." Unwilling to accept that my McNaughton story ended here, after the third loop, race director Andy Weinberg chipped a shard of ice off an ice block and for the better part of an hour I sat in the rental car icing, massaging and "sticking." I think it was my right knee.. maybe, don't remember. It was the opposite of whatever knee had been hurting the week prior. Back and forth, back and forth, what will I do? Sleep or keep going? Stop or go? Acceptance... I would run through the night and then I would quit. No one would judge me because by all means I should stop right now. This was true injurious pain. Complete Overtraining and Lack of Rest had chosen now to show themselves.
Throughout the next two loops I massaged my knee and my leg. My loops were not fast. By the morning I decided I would not stop yet. However my lack of ability to run As Expected threw me into a cranky baby state. And plus the sun was out and The Sleepiness was upon me. When urged by the crew member of another runner to get moving because I was spending too much time in the aid station I lashed out: "I have to make a decision here. My knee f*cking hurts and if I don't take the time with it now, it will only be more time out there!" I actually start crying - less than 24 hours and I'm already crying. I think we hugged and made up later Friday or Saturday night. Time is a little mushy and it's hard to distinguish the order of events.
On one night as I made my climb up the start of the loop I found I was being led, about 20 to 30 feet ahead, by a porcupine. Silly. Didn't he know I hate it when my pacer gets that far ahead of me? The oddest thing is that the porcupine appeared again as I came downhill on the end of that same loop. Again waddling just ahead of me with it's abundant thorny rear wagging. It turned off the trail when it was ready, but not before, and definitely not at my urging.
After the race, Tony, Jess Mullen and Jess's friend Mary and I went out to dinner. Mostly it was not a great dinner, but the Ben & Jerry's shopping trip for dessert dissolved any hunger that remained. We shared our experiences. Jess, crazy Jess for finishing her 100 mile race, and Tony hiding in the shack, and lovely Mary who tells a story like no other... it was great. Mary suggested that perhaps the porcupine is my totem.. and the best part is, Google confirmed it: http://www.linsdomain.com/totems/pages/porcupine.htm.
That leaves out a lot of the story. Tony and I ate a lot of food. Not good food, just a lot... and that was wonderful. We both made it to 150 miles, which may well have to be good enough as I'm not sure either of us have any ambition to go back to finish this one. 2011 includes some travel for each of us, but not to Vermont.
