75 Days - The difference between the impossible and the possible lies in a person's determination

It was Saturday morning, July 4th and standing amongst over 1500 other runners, I was a nervous wreck. I had positioned myself close to the start line about a half hour before the race would begin. I needed as much advantage as I could possibly get. 3 years ago, I had PRed at this 5k, going just sub 26 and I knew I was WAY better than that now. But I had to prove it. Although I had run a sub 23 minute 5k in training, I wanted an official, better time. I'd settle for sub 24 but I wanted sub 23. I was all set... new racing flats, a 24 minute playlist on my IPod (I figured if I didn't make it in under 24, I didn't deserve music) and Chad, a friend that I wanted to impress, standing on the sidelines. The gun went off... my heart was racing faster than my legs. I forced myself to hold back a bit in fear of the excitement giving me an asthma attack.

Mile 1 came up quick... just sub 7 minutes. Perfect pace. I rounded the corner... "Who put that hill there??" I thought. I hadn't remembered this at all. The second mile took me almost 8:30... ugh... that really set me back. I raced as hard and as fast as my legs and my lungs would carry me for that last mile. I knew that no matter what the results were, that it was ok as long as I gave this my all. I crossed the finish line in exactly 23:59. I looked at Chad and wrinkled my nose. Although I had met one of my goals, I wasn't completely satisfied. He proceeded to remind me of all the runners behind me and how happy I should be. My attitude immediately changed. I found out later that I was the 31st female out of 817 and 153rd overall out of 1562 runners. Not too bad... but two new goals were established by the end of the day... top 20 females next year in that race and sub 23 minute official 5k by the end of the month. I'll be going for round 2 in Pasadena on the 25th.

On Sunday, I headed out to Red Box to do the CFE WOD up towards Josephine Saddle. It consisted of 5 minutes on, 2:30 off, 6 minutes on, 3 off, 7 minutes on, done. I saw a few other ultrarunners I knew out there, out for their long distance runs. When they asked me how far I was going and I told them that I was 'just' doing intervals, I got some strange looks. Going back down the hill after my WOD was done, I ran into Oli, a runner that I had met at the Angeles Crest trail work, coming back from a 15 miler. We ran together back to the car and shared some stories. I was glad he didn't ask me about my training or how far I was going. For once, it was nice to feel like I was a part of those people again, even though my training is so different than theirs. At Western States last weekend, I got a lot of negative feedback about CrossFit and our methods of training... there were people literally telling me I didn't have a prayer to finish AC the way I was doing it.

I am doing AC for more than just me and that is why this race means so much to me. I'm doing it for Kellie, to get her confidence up to finish next year. Crossing that finish line with me will teach her so much and will show her that she can do it too. I'm doing it for Coach LeClair and Vanessa, so that they can have one of their students finish that race. Although Catra has a phenomenal ultrarunning resume and has finished that course numerous times, it wasn't necessarily because of their training that she did so. When I walked into CrossFit back in December, I wasn't fast enough to survive on that course and make the cut offs. Now I can show everyone how awesome the coaching staff at Team CrossFit Academy really is and that what they are doing is working. Coach LeClair is the first person I have ever met that made me think I might actually have an engine in there buried beneath all the overtraining... and Carl was the second. So of course, I'm doing it for CFE... not JUST to show that it works for all us 'normal' people out there, but when and if it works, maybe I can be an example to other ultrarunners to show them that they CAN complete these races and still have a life outside of this. I'm not in this to prove that high intensity work outs are better than long slow distance running. I just want to try something different and I want to see if this will make me a better athlete. In the meantime, maybe I can be the guinea pig that helps others as well.

Two months, one week... I'm nervous but oddly confident. I've never had a support system like this before and they will all be there with me, their words, their training, their friendship, every step of the way.

80 Days - Western States 2009

For the second time in the course of this trip, the beautiful sunrise in Squaw Valley awakened my senses and bid me good morning. But it was Sunday morning. Something was not right. I was in the back of my car... shouldn't I be running right now? In my grogginess, I was momentarily at a loss as to what had happened.

I arrived here on Friday, a little before 1pm, for the Western States race briefing. Ryan, one of my friend Jimmy's crew members had gotten in the car with me at about 5am that morning and we had made great time driving up to Northern California. I was on a mission to find Dmitry, who I assumed was finding his place on the lawn where the meeting was going to take place. As I made my rounds, suddenly a familiar voice greeted me.

"Summer!"

"Dean!" I smiled. A chill ran through me. My life had gone full circle. There he sat, the last person through the medical check, about to take part in his 12th running of this magical race. His stories are what brought me here today. His stories lead me to the start line of my first ultra, leading me to the finish line of my first 100 miler, to CrossFit where I would learn how to become stronger and to Carl, who would turn out to be my soul mate. It all flashed before me in that moment.

It wasn't long before I had tracked down Dmitry, who was beaming. We were finally here. He introduced me to his friend Mike Siltman and I saw our other friend, also named Dean who I had met at Wasatch. Andy and Catra were there. Mike Palmer was there. A few of my other So Cal friends Dave and Mark were there to crew. I saw Michelle Barton and Juli Aistars. It was surreal and even more exciting than I had anticipated it to be. Squaw Valley was like a beautiful Alpine village in the middle of nowhere. It was truly magical in this place.

For dinner, I met Dmitry and Mike as well as Catra and Andy with their runners Mylinh and Joe in Tahoe, where we were staying. We excitedly talked about passed races and adventures, knowing that new ones would be in creation within 24 hours.

I slept well that night, thankfully, although it was only for a few hours. I got up at 2:30am to meet the Dean D, Mike S, and Dmitry for our drive back into Squaw.

I've never seen so much excitement at the beginning of a race. Although Dean did an amazing job describing it in his book, nothing could truly recreate the feeling of standing there. My desire to run that race, although already high, was now off the charts. When Dmitry lined up I ran down the road to watch the runners take off. It would be hours before we could see them agan at Robinson Flat, 30 miles down the road.

It took almost 3 hours to drive to the aid station. My plan was to cheer my elite friends like Michelle and Dean through and then take a short nap before the others came. To make it within 24 hours, the runners needed to be there by 11:30am. Dmitry's plan was to make it through there in 12:15pm. To be on pace for a 30 hour finish, it was best to be through no later than 12:30pm. Cut off for this aid station was 1:40pm.

9:30am came and with it, a few of the frontrunners breezed through. 10:30am came and I was sure I would see Dean and Michelle soon. 11am came... no Dean, no Michelle. 11:30... wow... still no Dean or Michelle. Finally I saw them, but no time for a nap. I was sure I would see Dmitry soon. Noon came and I began to secure my position among the other crew members, ready to help. 12:15 came... no Dmitry... 12:30 came... I turned to Catra "Is it weird that there are still THIS many crew members waiting on their runners?" She had a concerned look too and we all began to discuss our options. What if we had runners drop here? What if we needed to start pacing at Michigan Bluff, mile 50, instead of Foresthill at mile 62? They allowed that for runners coming in to that aid station after 8pm. 12:45... none of our friends were through yet. Shit!

It wasn't much longer before we say our first few friends... Xy was the first. Then Mike P. Then Dmitry... thank goodness! I did some ART on his cramping legs, got him refuelled and he was on his way. He looked good. Myhlinn came through looking good, as did Dean D. Joe was another story. He threw up a few times, but Catra helped him and got him moving again. I saw my friend Laurie moving a little slow due to a now sprained ankle, but she didn't want to give up just yet. One person was missing... Mike S. Where was he? We all knew he was a strong runner.

Mike came into the aid station at exactly 1:42pm. Game over. Fred Pollard also came in around this time too and was unfortunately pulled. We also learned that Juli Aistars, a multi day event elite did not make the first cut off. It was disheartening, but we knew that some people may not make it. Things happen in long distance races like this, things beyond control. They would both live to fight other races, today was just not their day. I drove Mike back to Foresthill where we met Catra and Andy for lunch and strategizing. It was hot and the possibilities of more of our friends dropping was unfortunately high. We tracked them online and all of their paces were slowing. Dmitry would hit a cut off with 45 minutes to spare, then 30 minutes to spare... it was getting closer and closer. "Fight Dmitry, fight..." I kept saying to him over and over again in my head. I knew how much this meant to him.

After we got some food and a little rest, we were all off to Michigan Bluff, where fate would be revealed. The aid station volunteers could give us an ETA as to when our runners were supposed to be there by. At this point, both Laurie and Joe had dropped. I excitedly went to ask for an ETA on Dmitry. "Between 9:06 and 9:24pm," he said to me.

"When is the cut off for this aid station?"

"9:30pm."

I turned to Mike "It appears I will be PRing my 50 miler tonight."

I was nervous. My plan was only to go from Foresthill to the finish. But Dmitry needed me now more than ever. I laced on my shoes, picked up the phone, and called his wife.

As I began to update her she told me that she had just received a call from Dmitry, rather muffled, but she thought he said that he dropped. A confirmation of this came in about 15 minutes later.

Mike and I drove back to Foresthill to greet him. We arrived just as he was being dropped off. He looked up at me shaking his head, with tears in his eyes.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of. You gave it everything you had." I knew that without even having to hear his story.

Gathered around Foresthill were other friends, sitting, waiting on rides. Many had dropped, including some of the elites. We got some pizza and I drove Mike back to his car in Auburn and Dmitry back to Squaw Valley where we slept in the back of our cars. In the morning I headed back to the finish line. By the time I got there, 188 people had dropped. On that list were Xy, Michelle Barton and Dean K. I immediately text Dean to make sure he was ok. It was unlike him to drop. He had been peeing blood for 30 miles but he was feeling better he said. Michelle was at the finish line and she was sad. How could I tell her how amazing she was and not sound like I was blowing smoke up her ass? This is part of this. That day made me respect that course even more.

I knew two people that were still out there. Dean D. and Mike P. Dmitry and I decided to walk 1 mile out and wait for them. There was only an hour left in the race. Close to the finish line, we saw Catra ushering her friend Kathy in, a woman who has won this race twice. As we began to walk... I saw him in the distance... it was Mike!

"Boy am I glad to see you!" he said.

"Mike!! I'm so proud of you! Where is your pacer?"

"I don't know..." he said weakly.

"Want a new one?"

I joined Mike as Dmitry went off to find Dean. With 20 minutes to spare, Mike crossed the finish line. Tears welled up in my eyes. One of us had made it! Not long after that I saw Andy and Catra excitedly run in with Myhlinn. She had made it too!

We never saw Dean. We found out later he had made it to mile 90 and been medically pulled from the race. He remained in the hospital for several days after.

I will never forget Western States 2009 as long as I live. It was devistating to watch my soldiers fall in battle. These were people who had been preparing for this race for at least a year due to last year's cancellation and much longer for others. Two things went through my head that day. 1) It's ok to DNF. It doesn't make you less of a person. Quite the contrary... it makes you a better person. Just like walking into CrossFit every day, it exposes your weaknesses so that you can become stronger. When you line up to the start of a 100 mile race, the odds are stacked against you. But sometimes you will overcome those odds, it's just a matter of being brave enough to fail. 2) Crap... I MIGHT NOT finish AC... and it might be completely out of my control. Failure happens to the best of us. ANYTHING can happen during 100 miles. There's a lot that I can do to prepare myself to be a strong enough human being to make it from Wrightwood to Pasadena, but there are some things I can't prepare for. Dmitry has never cramped before in his life and cramps stopped him dead in his tracks. Dean K. has finished Western States 11 times and randomly, he started peeing blood, something he has never faced. Michelle gained 10 lbs and suffered from hyponatremia. All were physically capable but had things happen that day that were simply out of their control.

I'm back from my injury and I've begun to train hard. I'm going to do everything I can to represent myself and my CrossFit community in the best way possible come September. Right now my heart is full of pride for every one of my friends that had the courage to line up in Squaw Valley. I will be a warrior standing beside you there one day. There's another battle to fight first and your strength will be in my heart that day. Congratulations to all.

84 Days - Career Vacation

I've heard about these trips that you can go on called 'career vacations' where you go try out someone elses job for a week or so and see if it is for you. Over my vacation this year, I felt almost as if I had gone on one of those myself.

Inevitably, all of us tend to believe that our life is the hardest. We see other's day to day life and we really have no idea what obstacles they face on a daily basis. Where I never thought that Carl's job was easy, it was good for me to spend 5 days of my vacation in his life, learning what he actually goes through.

Thursday morning we left my apartment at 4:30am. He encouraged me to sleep while he drove, but I was unnaturally cheery for such an early hour. We headed straight to CrossFit Newport for his 6am class. His day was full of coaching obligations with barely a moment for lunch and a quick work out. By the next morning we were on a plane bound for Kentucky. A long day was ahead of us due to bad weather in a connecting city. Eight hours of sleep was impossible before we were up preparing to be at a 9am cert at CrossFit Lexington.

Let me pause here to quickly acknowledge this facility. Chris, the owner, has definitely done something right. Through a serious of fortunate events, he acquired a 26,000 square foot building which he created into the largest CrossFit playground I have ever seen. I think Carl's mouth even dropped a little as we walked inside.

Carl was quicly the center of attention as he jumped right into lectures and drills. I'm not even sure how he makes time to eat when he doesn't have someone to send for food. Amidst the two days of craziness, I had a blast being by his side and helping him in any way I could. Feeling like I was a part of that in some way made me feel like I was a part of something bigger than me.

Monday was a day to get caught up, train and rest for a few short moments, although I hesitate to say that it was a true 'day off.' I don't think any of use that feel passionately about life really have it easy. But one thing I learned about these days with him is how important it is to embrace whatever it is that you feel passionately towards. Carl created a career for himself out of something he really loves. Yes it is not easy, but most things worth having tend not to be.

93 Days - Internal Thermostat

A few weeks ago I started as a Mary Kay representative. It was something that I always thought would be fun to do, plus it is another means to securing the future I have begun to plan. Every Sunday night, we are invited to join a conference call, lead by our director, Linda Klein. The call was about how to make money, but she prefaced it by explaining to us about our internal thermostat. We all have a set amount of money that we have engrained into our minds that we absolutely have to make to survive. That number is different to everyone. Many people will hit their set amount and then spend on needless things and get themselves to a place that they have to struggle to hit their norm once again. The objective for us was to reset that thermostat with new goals, knowing that we were worth more than we thought we were.

Sunday morning, I got out of bed bright and early to join a group of volunteers in the Valley Crest Half Marathon. Nancy Shura, an old friend of the Moose and one of the women that I admire most in the ultrarunning community, was RDing the event. When she emailed a plea to the ultralist for help with the race, I couldn't turn her down. Plus I felt it was essential to start paying my dues a little better among these people that had helped me so much along the way. Let me encourage any of you that are ultrarunners to get out there and help out whenever you are able as well. You will never look back on that day and think "You know what? I really shouldn't have volunteered." The race went flawlessly and Nancy remained professional and happy through what can be a very stressful position. I was excited to see my good friend Ko there too. I will happily be a part of 'Team Nancy' at any race where she needs some help again.

I watched as the runners finished the race and I payed especially close attention to the times of the women that won my age group awards. My heart dropped a little when I heard them. I could never do that.

But then it dawned on me... maybe there is an internal thermostat with that as well. Maybe there is a certain acceptance level that everyone has within themselves of their abilities. Maybe the reason that I am not achieving better times in my races is because I do, in fact, convince myself that I cannot do better. While it is true that I will never be an elite athlete, I do think that there is a level beyond where I am now that I have not begun to scratch the surface of yet.

93 days... what waits for me in those mountains? What challenges will face me that I could not be fully prepared for, no matter how hard I tried? Time to reset that thermostat.

99 Days - The San Diego 100

"Wait, he already passed through here??" Mieko asked excitedly as we approached the aid station before we were to begin crewing/pacing.

"Yes Maam, about 10 minutes ago."

"Crap!!" She said, letting out an excited giggle. I joined her as we sprinted back to her car. There was no need for this, in all honesty. The aid station where we were meeting him was 6.7 miles away and at that point he would have 50 miles on his legs. But both of us felt the excitement of knowing that not only was our runner on pace, he was ahead of it!

Mieko and I were tag team pacing Donn for this event. I got the easy mile 50 - 69 shift since I was still recovering and Mieko got the challenging last 50k. We had driven down from LA together to meet him. Carl was away at a exercise physiology cert and would meet me there later. The aid station where I would meet Donn was the start, the 50 mile, 69 mile and finish. It made the pacing switch off easy.

No sooner was I dressed and ready to go before familiar faces began to shoot by. Brian, in 4th at that point, sped past the 69 mile mark and in my mind I pegged him for a 3rd place finish. I knew he wouldn't be happy with anything less than top 3. I watched Catra and Andy come through mile 50, looking strong and happy. Catra had just done another 100 miler the weekend before but it did not seem to be affecting her performance here. Donn was not far behind. When he came in, he looked great! Better than I had seen many 10k finishers in my life. Xy Weiss had been pacing him for the first 50 miles.

It was still light outside and the trails were beautiful. Donn was running so strong that at first I was concerned about keeping up with him. But somehow everything came together perfectly. It was windy and cold but I was so happy to be a part of a race again. Donn and I shared a few stories, but for me it was mostly about focusing on getting him to mile 69 by midnight. I ran ahead and let him chase me. This seemed to keep him moving the fastest.

Carl came to meet us at mile 63. It was dark and maybe even a little surreal seeing him there. I had been so focused on Donn I had not taken very good care of myself, a rookie pacer mistake. But he helped get a little food in me. I quickly urged Donn to keep moving. Only 6 more miles till Mieko would take over. I wanted them both to be able to enjoy the finish of the race without having to worry about cut offs. This was Mieko's first time pacing.

It was just a few minutes past midnight when we came into the aid station and I passed him along to her. Carl and I headed back to the hotel for some sleep before getting up early to watch our warrior finish. Through the night, Donn slowed down a bit, but that was to be expected. He was still in no danger of not finishing, even when he attempted to drop at mile 80 after a moment of hallucination where he became convinced that Mieko was a giant octopus. Yeah, I'm not kidding! We headed to the aid station 6.7 miles from the finish and waited. Brian was there cheering for Donn. Not surprisingly, he had placed 3rd. I watched as my friend Dina came in, exhausted. She had been a good friend to me at Mt. Disappointment by loaning me her flashlight. I never forgot. She began to cry. I bent down to her to say a few words of encouragement. I'd been there before and knew exactly how she felt.

We watched Donn pass through and headed back to the finish line once more. The temperature was cool and breezy, but the sun made short sleeves comfortable as we layed in the back on Carl's truck, watching the runners come in. First of our friends was Catra and Andy, finishing at a respectable sub 29 hours. Xy came in shortly thereafter, paced by Fred Pollard. Then Jill Childers, always upbeat and happy. I had heard that she had issues earlier in the race and was so glad to see her finish. She truly overcame obstacles that day. Then it was Donn, holding hands with Mieko as they crossed the finish line together. Tears welled up in my eyes. I was so proud of him.

Last but not least was Dina. This was her first 100 mile finish. Her pacer, David Campbell, stepped aside and let her daughter run with her through the finish line. Yes, this is why I love this!!

This week has been about getting back on target for my own goals. Seeing those strong runners cross the finish line got me even more focused on my goal at the AC100. It is now only three months away. With my injury almost completely healed, it's time for me to go hard.

112 Days - Whoever wants to reach a distant goal must take small steps.

As of this weekend, I am an official entrant for the Angeles Crest 100 Mile Run. On Saturday morning, I met 26 other entrants as well as one man who was nice enough to just come help out, to do some trail work at a point along the course called Idle Hour. It was a fun group. This is the first time I have ever been required to do trail work for a race entry and I am certainly glad to have that experience under my belt. Me and my hoe were a 1 man army as I dug away at the single track to create a wider trail. It was exciting to be there, knowing that the next time I would be crossing that path would be on foot, with Kellie, finishing up my last 10 miles of the course.

This morning Kellie met me at my apartment to head up to Red Box for some altitude training. I don't think either of us realized how much the 2 mile loop time trial would affect us. I was coughing a bit after so Kellie went for the tabata on her own. I followed with the car, honking my horn at every 20 and 10 second mark. A running tabata, for those of you who are unaware, consists of 20 seconds of sprinting, 10 seconds off completely for 4 minutes total - uphill, just to make it a little more exciting.

I think the thing that makes people question CrossFit Endurance the most is the fact that they do not understand the intensity of the program. I definitely got some strange looks when I explained my method of training to some fellow AC runners on Saturday, although some were curious, excited about the prospect of lower mileage but not really willing to accept it. I get that. In fact I completely understand that most people are more interested in having as many experiences as possible on different trails rather that to try to better their times on limited amounts of races. What always strikes me as funny are those that get legitimately angry that someone is training for an ultra without doing high mileage. I ran into those on Saturday as well.

But I will say it was nice to train with Kellie. She is motivated by the same thing that I am - bettering herself by becoming stronger and faster. If... WHEN... I make it to Chantry, there will be no way in hell I won't cross that finish line in Pasadena with her by my side. We may be in the minority, but I am honored by the minority that surrounds me. I'm excited to see the results of changing from a long slow distance runner to a CrossFitter. And with the work outs that we do and the company that I keep, it is hard to miss racing every weekend. It is so nice to be training again.

117 Days - “All human wisdom is summed up in two words - wait and hope”

I had planned to run the Mt. Wilson Trail Race up until about 2am the night before. I woke up with my chest throbbing in pain as a result of some stretching I did. I realized at that point how much was at risk by trying to push through this too soon.

But the day could not have been more perfect. 67 of my Team CrossFit Academy family members showed up to brave one of the hardest non ultra races out there. As soon as I arrived, the sadness of not being able to compete converted into the excitement I felt for my peers. It would be amazing to be out there but there were bigger things ahead that were more important... the biggest of those was simply maintaining my health. Carl was running in the event and I was really happy to be able to cheer for him. He made us all proud by crossing the finish line in 1:26. He was the 2nd male from our group to finish the run.

That night we headed off to a party to celebrate the accomplishments of the Academy over the past few weeks. Eric got up and spoke, praising the boot campers as well as those that had completed the Mt. Wilson Trail Race. Every 6 week cycle, Eric honors members of the team that show excellence in the 10 general physical skills. I was honored for Cardiorespiratory Endurance which means that my picture will hang in the Academy for the next few weeks. It was just the motivation that I needed. After he gave out the awards, he told us all about a new race that would take place next year, a race that would cover the entire 16 miles of Mt. Wilson, out and back. This would be a race that runners would need to qualify for in advance, due to the difficulty level. A 50k or trail marathon would be sufficient. His goal would be to have 10 Academy members run in it next year. My mind immediately committed. I may not ever make it to the Games or win any weightlifting competitions, but this was a way I knew I could represent my family proudly.

I had been running a little here and there but Monday, Memorial Day, would be the day that would remind me how much I missed the sport. Carl and I headed up to Red Box, one of the stops along the AC course. The altitude definitely affected my lungs, but that showed me why I needed to be there. We started off with a 2 mile, hilly loop that I took very slowly. I finished in 20:54 and Carl finished in about 15 minutes. Then, as Carl was doing a tabata up one of the hills, I ran up it at the best pace I could maintain without getting too out of breath. We hiked a little afterwards and I felt happier than I had felt in quite some time. These mountains will soon become my new weekend home.

This morning I was able to do some lunge and squat tabatas and just a few push ups and sit ups. My upper body is needing some patience, but my lower body seems ready to go. I guess that is better than the alternative, but it is hard for me not to push with everything in me at any given opportunity. I plan to return to CrossFit as soon as I get my upper body rehabbed enough that I can get through the work outs, even if it is at a slow pace. Until then, I will do my best to be patient and get ready to help Donn on his journey across the finish line at the San Diego 100.

121 Days - "Appreciation is a wonderful thing. It makes what is excellent in others belong to us as well"

"Sweetie?"

The voice interrupted the darkness that surrounded me. Where was I?

"Baby, I have to go to work..."

Holy crap, did I just sleep through 3 alarms? Despite that, Carl must have gotten ready like a ninja. I never slept this hard, but maybe my body knew it was the last shot before everything began.

I went back to sleep and once again found myself on the AC trails, pushing through the night, alone this time. My mind was replaying like a movie every step that I took with Mike the last time that we were on that course. I sprinted down long single tracks and through a campsite where I mistakenly judged snoring for a bear growling. I watched the sunrise over the beautiful Angeles Crest National Forest knowing how close but yet how far I was. When my alarm woke me again at 7:30, it was time...

I was supposed to take this slow, as a test. And I did at first. The block around my apartment was around 1200 meters. I would loop around every 10 minutes for 30 minutes, resting in between each, for a total of 3 laps. I finished the first loop in 5:09. That felt good. I pushed just a little but not too hard. Maybe I would test it and go a little harder on the next one. 4:58. Could I go harder and still feel good? 90% on the last loop. I finished in 4:48, panting and gasping for breath, my chest still in tact. Maybe not the smartest thing, but I know myself and how competitive I get. If I am doing the Mt. Wilson Race on Saturday there is a chance that I will suddenly want to push and I would rather have done it now, around the apartment than stuck up on a trail. The only indication of the injury was some mild tightness (atrophy of the muscles perhaps). I felt good enough to get excited about Saturday.

If I can remember to simply enjoy the day, the day will be perfect. Carl and I will be out there together for the first time in a race format and I will be able to watch my fellow CrossFitters brave a very tough race. Some of them will never have run 8.6 miles before and I will be able to be there to cheer and watch proudly as they cross that finish line. I won't be the first girl from the Academy to finish this time, but that will be ok. Maybe I would have expected that from myself if I was 100%. But something this injury has taught me is that it isn't always about that. I will come back from this a different runner, more appreciative from the fear that I had that this was something bigger.

128 Days - And Then I Woke Up...

I only had a few miles left but my legs and my feet were on fire. It might as well have been 50 more.

"C'mon, Summer," Kellie said as she glanced at her watch. "If we can maintain 15 minute miles you can still make your goal. You're at about a 20 minute mile right now."

I was? In my mind, this was a good, solid 8 minute pace. Amazing what sleep deprivation would do to you. I laughed at the thought of going faster as I felt my legs shake beneath me. This had truly been the hardest thing I had ever done before in my life.

Although the pain was filtering out my ability to tell time at all, somehow the next few miles went quickly. I heeded Kellie's words and was barely at a 15 minute a mile pace. We were about to hit the pavement, for the last mile or so of the race when suddenly, I saw something, not too far away. Was that Brian Mackenzie? I thought he had finished long ago. My pace quickened. What was I doing? But this was probably the only chance I'd have to do something like this.

I saw nothing but the finish line in the distance as I barrelled through. My vision blurred as I went from a 15 minute down to a 9 minute mile. I didn't even notice that I had passed him. Kellie stayed by my side, picking up the pace with me and cheering. She had to be tired too. Carl was standing at the finish line along with Coach LeClair, Vanessa and several others from the Academy. I turned around. Had I really just beat Brian across the finish line of the AC 100??

And then I woke up... I smiled. Brian is an incredibly strong runner, and unless he breaks both his legs, the idea of that happening is just ridiculous. But it showed me that even though my body isn't quite there yet, my head is officially back in the game.

I was right about the Chest Wall Syndrome... and since getting the proper medication I feel almost 100% better. If I do not completely let it heal, it can become chronic. I am dying to start training again but I am giving it one more week, planning my big comeback at the Mt. Wilson Trail Race next weekend. Although I will not be able to run that at the speed I had originally anticipated, I will appreciate that day that much more. I will go for two days at The Academy the following week and then it is off to San Diego to pace my friend Donn in the SD 100. Then my focus will be entirely on CrossFit and CrossFit Endurance as I get ready to take on The Angeles Crest 100 mile run.

Carl said something to me a few weeks ago, before my diagnosis, that really stuck with me. We all have different realities. His reality was that his Helen time was about a minute slower than where he wanted it to be. My reality at that time was that I could not walk around the block without getting out of breath and didn't know why. For those even less fortunate, their reality is how they are going to relearn how to walk after losing a limb. Sometimes things happen to us to make us realize how fortunate we are. I am going to appreciate the road to Wrightwood even more with my awarness to what could have been behind me now.

135 Days - Responsibility

If this experience of being sick has taught me anything, it has taught me that our health is our responsibility... no one elses. Doctors are there to be a guide, but you really can't depend on them alone to cure you. Sometimes it is important to take matters into your own hands.

After much research, I discovered a condition called chest wall syndrome, common among athletes, asthmatics, anyone with a rheumatic disorder and people recovering from an upper respiratory infection or bronchitis... all of which are me. It is actually considered an injury, not an illness, brought on by some kind of repetitive activity such as coughing or sometimes a new training program involving weight lifting. Basically that would mean that the left side of my chest is swollen underneath my chest cavity and pushing against my ribs. 4 - 8 weeks of anti inflammatory medication usually heals it up and it is not reaccuring.

Tomorrow I have an appointment with my doctor and I plan to bring in all my research. I've tried a few things that I have learned online about this and I am already feeling better. I am sure this is what I have. I am frustrated with my doctors to a degree for not finding this based on my history because I could be halfway to recovery by now if given the proper treatment. But again, this responsibility falls on me and me alone. It is my body.

An interesting thing that I have seen in the past few weeks is people's responses to this. I haven't been sick in two years but my friends and coworkers blame my condition on running and the training that I do. Yes, it is probably somewhat related to that but look at the alternative. I am healthy, I am strong, I very rarely have anything wrong with me and now I am receiving critisism from people that are sick every two weeks, quite literally. It shows me that I am truly in the minority. But I look around at the people that are in that minority with me, and I realize how lucky I am to be a part of that. Sometimes we need to go through something like this to be made aware of how great our lives actually are.

I feel stronger mentally right now. I feel like a tiger, waiting in the bushes for that exact right moment to pounce. If I am correct, I should not do any running or CrossFit as I let this heal. The one positive thing that I have concluded from this experience is that I am officially not an overtrained ultrarunner anymore. I can start my training back from square 1 and see where it takes me. My focus right now is on getting a ridiculous amount of rest and eating as clean as possible so that when I do come back, I have every tool I need to succeed.

137 Days - There are two ways of meeting difficulties, you alter the difficulties or you alter yourself to meet them.

It's been several weeks now since my DNF at Leona Divide. So much has happened since then and yet so little. Everything began to shut down on me about 12 miles into the race. At mile 18, game over, once again.

I took a few days off, blaming it on the bronchitis, asthma or a combination of both symptoms. Regardless of the reason for having to drop, it was weighing heavy on my heart. I went to the CrossFit Games Qualifiers and watched in awe of what my fellow CrossFitters were able to accomplish. Especially one in particular, Sarah Rodriguez. She owns CrossFit LaVerne but is definitely part of our Team CrossFit Academy family. Going into this day, she was in 7th place. The qualifiers would accept 6 women from Southern California. She had some work to do if she was to be one of them.

The work out that she had to complete was ridiculous. First a 2000 meter row followed by 6 rounds of 20 box jumps/steps ups and 10 wall balls consisting of the 20 lb ball to the 8 foot mark. I could already see that her height would be a disadvantage on this one, but there was determination in her eyes. She looked like me before a race... confident and ready. They were given 25 minutes to complete the work out.

I've never in my life seen someone work so hard for something as she did. There wasn't even a moment of hesitation. She went for it with all her heart. I watched as the taller girls exited the rowers first, but she wasn't too far behind. I cheered as loud as I could, hoping somehow what little energy I had would go to her. The first girl finished... then the 2nd, 3rd, 4th... Sarah still had a few more rounds.

Time was called before she was able to complete her last 3 wall balls. She looked down defeated. But I didn't see someone who had been defeated at all. I saw hope. Sarah didn't DNF that work out because she wasn't a good athlete... she did because she was testing her limits, letting her guard down and pushing with everything that she had to see what she could be. Most people are afraid to do that. Most people try to make excuses or don't even step up to the plate to beginning. And because she did that, she will now only become stronger. If DNFing that race put me on the same category as her, I felt honored.

I've basically been in bed the last few weeks. I've been in and out of doctor's offices and even the hospital. I've had chest x-rays, blood work, an EKG, a CT scan... my chest pain has grown worse and my breathing issues began to affect my daily activities, yet no one seems to be able to figure out what is wrong with me. After a few days of sleep, a little energy came back but the symptoms remained.

Monday I woke up ready to fight. I am accepting this as something that I have to live with and I am therefore going to learn how to work around it. I laced on my chucks and decided to run... one big block loop around my apartment. Whatever pace I needed to slow to, I would, and trust me it was slow. I came back and did 25 squats and 10 push ups... a mini WOD. I had to take breaks several times but I did it.

This morning I put on my shoes again. This time two loops, 50 sit ups and 50 push ups. Again, many breaks but I did it. I remembered back to when I trained for my first marathon and the agony of pushing through arthritis. I learned my limits quickly... how hard I could push and when I needed to back off. So this week is about learning my limits. It's not that I can't do any of this, I just can't do it at the pace that I want to. This might be my ticket back to CrossFit. If I can live with the fact that the entire class will be done before me, even in the running WODs, I can learn how to pace myself and not lose my fitness as I try to figure this out. So that is the plan as of now. As you can see, I am still counting down the days till AC. I'm not ready to give that up just yet. The mind is a powerful thing.

155 Days - Setting Goals

Tomorrow morning is it... the Leona Divide 50 Miler take 3!

Here are my goals for the race:

1) Finish in under 11 hours. Plant myself behind a few runners that are slightly better than I am and not back down. This goal might be revised during the race due to my current health issues.

2) Keep it Paleo. It is going to be hard to run through the aid stations seeing Oreos and Coke and not reach for them. However if I am going to follow the ways of those that have coached me so far, it is all or nothing right now. At the last aid station, I might have one... just to give me something to run towards!

3) Have fun! I don't want to get so caught up in reaching a particular goal that I become so consumed by it and miss meeting new friends and admiring the beautiful poppy fields in the distance.

At 3:45am, Donn, Brian and I will load into my little Toyota Echo for our ride to Lake Hughes. It is our same crew from last year, but so much has changed for all of us in the past year. Brian is now an elite, sponsored ultrarunner, having won and placed in multiple races. Donn is running back to back to back races and certainly becoming stronger. He also has his girlfriend Connie now which is a wonderful addition to his life. And of course there is me, the low mileage, Paleo CrossFitter whose life has changed in ways I couldn't have comprehended last year at this time.

Carl is away for the next 9 days, holding 3 running certifications in 3 different states on the East Coast. Although he cannot be at this event with me, he will be in my heart and his words will be there with me, as will the training I have received from Coach LeClair. Ultras are a good time for reflection. I will honor the past year of my life, with all it's highs and lows by giving this my best shot.

157 Days - “To live is not breathing it is action.”

Back to the doctor again on Thursday. When would it end? Well, it did... on Thursday, finally.

Since my DNF at Coyote Two Moon, I have not been able to get my asthma under control at all, and apparently for good reason. My doctor finally came to the conclusion that I have been living with bronchitis for about the past month and a half. After just a few days on antibiotics, I am almost back to normal.

Tuesday morning, it was back to CrossFit. Sometimes a limited absense is good, because it makes me push harder. My focus was on pushing hard, but not so hard that I would again have lung issues. I accomplished that goal and was able to also work a skill that needed to be developed more. All in all a perfect training day.

This weekend, the full circle of my life for the past two years will be present in two seperate activities. Saturday I return to where it all began in Lake Hughes. I will be running the Leona Divide 50 miler. I will follow it up on Sunday by being a spectator at the CrossFit Games qualifiers.

I am a little nervous going back into another ultra after what happened at Coyote Two Moon, but I am really excited to get back on such a beautiful course where memories will chase me through the gorgeous landscape that I have grown to love. This will be the first time that I return to a single ultra for the third time. It is like home to me. I can't wait to go play in the woods with old friends with energy flowing freely that we will ride to the finish line of one of my favorite events. I have a good feeling about this one.

164 Days - It is easy to get a thousand prescriptions but hard to get one single remedy.

I sat in Dr. Hacopian's office, waiting nervously. I'm not sure why I was nervous... I've never been swayed too much one way or the other by my doctor's opinion of my condition. But she had always been really supportive of my goals, even if they had seemed a little out of the ordinary. She examined the results of my spirometer test and went over my chart.

"How long do you plan to do this type of high intensity training?" She asked me.

"Well, I was actually planning on forever."

"Then you have a choice," she continued. "You can go back to the kind of training that you were doing before and just use your rescue inhaler when needed, or if you plan to continue with this, I need to put you on a daily steroid."

"Does that mean I am now going to fail the drug test when I go to the Olympics?" She looked at me curiously. I guess I was the only one that got my joke. "Kidding," I said. "I dream big. Are there drawbacks to that?"

"There is with any medication. One of the issues you may have is muscle weakness, but that should go away in time. As your lungs get stronger, we may be able to back off the dosage, but I don't see you ever being able to go off completely."

I left the office with a new inhaler, and a new plan. Being dependent upon medication was not my idea of a solution, but the alternative seemed much worse.

I am tired today. My body is not 100% from the attacks that I have had recently and my shoulder is still in some pain. I am beginning to wonder if my asthma problems have anything to do with the injuries I have had recently. I am assuming that the inability to breath would lead to things like bad form. I am eager to get back to CrossFit but I am doing what I can to keep up my fitness with daily tabatas. I have also gotten much more serious about my diet. I have eliminated dairy and wheat completely and have gone completely paleo. I'm hoping that in time I will be able to go off my medication if I am taking care of my body correctly. I've come so far to be dependent on a drug. I am frustrated, but I'm not giving up.

166 Days - Failure

About a week and a half ago, Mikey gave us this speech in class. He said that he had seen many of us get frustrated and give up easily. He explained to us that success takes time, and to not get it into our heads that we couldn't perform a certain skill, or we would always be intimidated by the thing that held us back. Something about that speech sunk in.

It was 6:30am on Saturday morning when I pulled up to the start line of the Santa Anita Derby Day 5k. I took a few puffs of my inhaler before stepping out of the car to meet my friends. I put one hand on my chest and took a deep breath. I heard the familiar wheeze of lungs that were not fully recovered from an exercise induced asthma attack that I had 2 days before. Why did this keep happening? If I was smart, I would have sit this one out and let my body fully recover. But I have never claimed to be smart.

As we lined up at the start line, I hoped for the best. Coach LeClair placed me behind Trish, who I was to chase that day. Before too long the mayor announced the start of the race. I chased her as hard as I could. At mile 1, the inevitable began. My chest began to hurt and the wheezing became more intense. I crossed that first mile in a little over 7 minutes. Could I push through this?

Mile 2, I was just over 15 minutes, still on pace. My breathing became more and more shallow and the coughing began. Stars blurred my vision and I wondered if I might actually pass out. But I kept pushing. I was on pace. Only one more mile...

I don't even really remember that last mile. My chest completely tightened up and I couldn't see, I just followed the feet of the person in front of me. I never saw the entrance to the race track that we finished off and I barely remember seeing the finish line. I finished in 25 minutes.

I couldn't be upset about my time yet, I was too scared of what was about to happen to my body. I searched out the red shirts and luckily saw a familiar face, Adam. He and Rose helped me to my car where I took a few more puffs of my inhaler and layed down for a good 30 minutes or so before I was capable of driving. After survival mode left me, I realized what had happened. Through all my efforts, I had failed.

It is Monday and I am still wheezing. I am defeated today but I will not give up on tomorrow. I have my doctor's appointment, now with a very good doctor who is supportive of my goals and knows better than to tell me to change them. I can look at this as a bad thing, or I can look at the fact that even with an asthma attack, I finished 12 out of 216 in my age group and 43 out of 1201 females overall. Sometimes it is not about the fact that you lose, it is what you do with your loss that makes you able to win in the future.

Looking beyond myself, Saturday was an amazing day. Coach aka Cult Leader LeClair, managed to recruit 165 Academy affiliated athletes to come and run. Watching the sea of red around me reminded me that regardless of whether I win or lose, I am no longer alone in this fight.

170 Days - Stand for something or fall for anything

This morning, I walked into my first official gym since I began CrossFit. I thought I was in an alternate universe as I watched zombie gym rats monotonously and slowly moving weights back and forth on the machines, and reading magazines as they rode on their stationary bikes. Boy was I about to make my entrance.

Monday morning's CrossFit WOD was another warrior workout, in honor of a firefighter this time that had been killed by a sniper when he stepped off his truck responding to a call. I always push hard in class, but these days are the days that I am motivated most, feeling the spirits of those we have lost around us, happy that we are living up to our expectations. I did push hard, but once again, my form suffered for this, leading me to a mild shoulder injury. Let me set the record straight. There is nothing about CrossFit itself that is leaving me injured here and there. This is strictly my fault for sacrificing form for speed, one of the basics that I learned when I first walked in the door.

The past three days, with the guidance of Carl, I have been taking on shoulder-free work outs as I let myself heal. Today was what is called a running tabata. I would need a treadmill. The only place I could think to find one was my local Ballys. I tried to discreetly take one in the corner as I watched the ZGR's curiously looking at me. I set my incline to 12 and my speed to 9. Go! 20 seconds on, 10 seconds off for 4 minutes. I was gasping for air, shaking, my lungs could not hold on. Clearly I had dreamed a little too big. I adjusted the speed down to 8.5, 8, then 7.5. Ugh... how was running for 4 minutes this hard?

I hopped off the treadmill and hobbled to the door, sweat pouring off of me, barely able to breathe. I could hardly see straight. When I 'came to,' every eye was on me. I smiled. Sometimes it is fun to be the odd one out.

174 Days - Integrity

On Saturday night, I found myself on the 2nd row of my very first MMA cage fight. My heart was racing. After seeing 6 men previous to this beat the crap out of each other, I wondered now how I would feel as I saw one of our own step into that ring. A sea of red shirts painted the first three rows of the fight. We had all arrived early to secure those positions. As Pablo's name was announced, we all stood up and screamed. Coach LeClair followed him with the video cameras and Team CrossFit Academy logos covered his fight attire.

The first two rounds went quickly and Pablo fought hard. His apponent seemed to have no other move other than to hold him against the side of the cage. Due to a loophole in the contract, apparently any fighter could opt out of the fight after two rounds, even if they were ahead, and the points would only count for those fights, declaring the winner. We watched as Pablo's apponent took the easy way out. It was clear, had there been another round, that Pablo would have taken him out.

After DNFing Coyote Two Moons and even a Mt. Wilson Training Run on Saturday morning due to my lungs, I realized that it was time to start fighting again. I reluctantly took a few puffs of my inhaler and laced on my new running flats. Time to prove to myself that my previous 5k time was not just a fluke.

I ran hard, but I tried my best not to compromise form for speed. I could hear Carl's voice in my ear telling me to pull my foot from the ground and keep my elbows in. A mile from my apartment, it was not looking good, but I kept pushing. I finished in 23:15, not a PR, but still my second best 5k time so far.

Next weekend I will race my first 5k in a sanctioned event in about 5 years. Eric and the rest of my CrossFit family will be there too. Since I started focusing on my speed, I have been so scared to disappoint my coach, and even Carl. But I realized something as I watched Pablo fight last night. If I run as hard and fast as I possibly can, and I only run a 25 minute 5k... that is acceptable. We go back, we analyze what I did, we try again. If I go out and kick back, barely pushing and somehow PR, not good enough. That's what it means to be a CrossFitter.

On Thursday, we did a workout in class called the Maltz Challenge, in honor of a fallen soldier. Eric gave us this speech before class, giving us a very strong warning about our integrity in his class. If anyone cheated the work out in any way shape or form, they would be publically humiliated and kicked out of our facility forever. I liked that. It made me realize that I was in the right place. My integrity is there. The rest will come in time.

178 Days - All Roads Lead To Wrightwood

"Alright kids... when the music stops, take a seat. If you end up having nowhere to sit, then you are out."

I danced around a circle of cute little 4-6 year old girls in a Tinkerbell costume on Saturday and watched as they giggled and ran around excitedly trying to find a place to sit in a surprisingly competitive game of musical chairs. But there was, after all, a prize for the winner... their very own Tinkerbell notepad. It might as well have been the lottery.

When I am not ultrarunning, I play Disney princess/clown for children at birthday parties on the weekends. I watched curiously as each little girl kept ironically ending up next to the same people, with minor shifts occuring here and there. The same girls kept winning, or were the last ones standing.

I wondered if life was just this big game of musical chairs. The music stops and suddenly you are next to someone you never saw before, but was always there. The music stops again and you are back where you started, once again crossing paths with someone who was not next to you in the game before. Some people stay for the whole game, while others come and go.

No matter what decisions I would have made this year, with my training and in regards to the people that I surrounded myself with, I believe that I would have chosen to be at that start line for Angeles Crest in September. People have come and gone, some I have crossed paths with in ways I couldn't have imagined, but there are certain things that seem to remain the same including the stops along my journey and the basic core of who I am.

The Angeles Crest 100 is a scary race. There are challenges out there I will face that I have probably not come head to head with yet in my ultrarunning. Going forward, I am following a rule that has always been essential to any type of challenge... building a strong foundation. The next few months, I will focus on doing that both physically and mentally. When the music stops, I can only hope that the choices that I have made lead me to that finish line in Pasadena.

183 Days till the Angeles Crest 100

I like being controversial. I like doing things that raises people's eyebrows. I like it even more when I am able to prove a point by doing something completely out of the ordinary.

The ultrarunning community is very focused on high mileage. Run 100 miles a week and you are a god, no matter how well you finish your upcoming ultras or whether you finish them at all. Run 50 miles a week and you are pretty well prepared and will probably get through. Run less than that without sacrificing your personal life and clearly you are not ready. If you finish the race, you got through it by luck or natural ability.

I lined up to the start line of 13 ultras in 2008. I completed 11 of those. On top of this, I paced in 4 different events, running an ultra or longer in 3 of those. This does not include my high mileage weeks that I did to 'prepare.' I spent 2008 in pain, but was admired by others in my community. I barely beat cut offs, but I was one of the 'dedicated' ones and my reputation did not suffer for that, even when 'DNF' appeared by my name in some of the race results.

I will not be running another 100 miler until AC. I will run the Leona Divide 50 miler and the Mt. Wilson Trail Race for speed. There will be a few pacing obligations mixed in, maybe a run or two through the Angeles Crest National Forrest to get to know the trail and I may do the Mt. Disappointment 50 miler, but that's all. Yep, ultrarunning community, that is all I am doing, at least as far as my 'long runs' are concerned. And believe it or not, I will still be training, probably harder than I ever have before, just in a little differently than I have before.

I've already been told that the Mt Wilson Trail Race 'doesn't even count as a warm up.' I've watched the eyebrows raise as I explain my training with other ultrarunners. People say it is because of Carl. Maybe that is partially true. I'm dating a man who does this kind of coaching for a living and is well respected for it, so really, how much of a stubborn idiot would I be if I didn't least try it his way? In all honesty, I don't really know if it will work or not because I haven't done it yet. But I do know how awesome it felt to line up to the start of the Orange Curtain 50k feeling great and PRing left and right. I would rather have one of those than 5 other ultras where I am simply pushing cut offs. I want to see what I am really capable of.

My fellow ultrarunning friend Heather said it brilliantly: "I've gotta race well and run hard, otherwise it's just not a race." That is becoming true for me too. It can be a run, but certainly not a race. My lungs are still recovering but I am almost ready to begin training again. I plan to return to CrossFit on Monday. I guess we will see how it goes!

Days Pending - Decisions, Decisions...

I'll admit, I'm a little down, at least as far as ultrarunning is concerned. Between a DNF last weekend, my crew falling apart for KEYS and the inability to train due to my lungs, things have not exactly been going as planned. But that's just it. Being successful in this sport requires you to be able to think on your feet and problem solve. The ability to work through the unexpected can make or break you. I have some decisions to make.

Option 1 - Run the KEYS 100 with a limited, inexperienced crew, relying way too much on my dad and demanding way too much of his body.

Option 2 - Drop from KEYS and sign up for the San Diego 100 where I would have Carl to crew me and probably several friends who would be interested in coming out to pace me. Problem being that I am pacing Dmitry at Western States only three weeks later.

Option 3- Take some down time between now and AC and just focus on that race entirely, keeping my pacing commitments to both Dmitry and Dean. In the meantime, I could go back and do the Leona Divide 50 miler, which I could run for speed and still have plenty of recovery time before my pacing duties.

As much as I hate to give up my 100 miler, I am leaning towards Option 3.

60 Days - The Coyote Two Moon 100k

It was a beautiful Saturday as our 'Noon Mooners' lined up to the start of the Coyote Two Moon 100k. The race was set up so that we all had different start times, leading both the 100k runners and 100 milers back to the finish line at approximately 10am on Sunday morning. I was nervous about this race and not just for the obvious reasons. For two or three days prior I had been fighting what I thought was a little head cold and cough. I started the race at a pretty good pace, but my lungs were not letting me forget that they were hurting from whatever my system was fighting. As we climbed from 800 feet to almost 5000, I blamed the altitude. I made it up and over the first mountain in about 3 hours and 15 minutes. That was about the mile 12 aid station, the first place where Carl could meet me. He loaded me up as if I was a Nascar racer, changing my 'tires,' and fueling me up. Then away I went. My body felt good but breathing became more and more of an issue. On the next climb out of the aid station, my chest was in intense pain and I was wheezing and coughing. I came into mile 18 swerving down the road and talking even became an issue. I looked up at Carl, defeated.

After a few minutes, we collectively made the decision to pull the plug on this race. As we drove out of Ojai, I vowed to the beautiful mountains that I would be back to see them again next year.

By this morning, I was still coughing and my chest felt heavy. A trip to the doctor would soon reveal that I had been pushing through asthmatic bronchitis. My doctor asked me if I had been doing any intense exercise recently. I told him about CrossFit and tried not to let my smirk show too much when he suggested that I switch to something a little less demanding on my lungs.

"Out of curiousity," I asked, as I left the office "What would have happened to me if I had continued the race?"

"Your air passages would have shut down completely, inabling you to breathe."

"In other words..?"

"In other words, your boyfriend's decision to pull you from the race probably saved your life."

A chill ran up my spin when I heard that. They are words I have not heard since I was a child suffering from this condition.

So does this discourage me from continuing with CrossFit? Nope. I've been told by doctors not to run because of my asthma too, but we all see how that turned out. There's a way to do this. Fortunately between Carl and Coach LeClair I have some of the best people in the business to help me figure it out.

I am of course sad that I was unable to complete the race, but this was one of those days that the letters 'DNF' truly stood for 'Did Nothing Fatal.'

For those of you that want to know what the race was like, here is Donn's recap of the run:

Originally I was going to run most of the race with Mieko. However, she wanted to finish the race around 6:00 am on Sunday, a lot faster than I wanted to run. So I went with plan B and waited up for Laurie so that I could run with her. I spent a lot of extra time just hanging out at the Ridge Junction and Rose Valley aid stations. This almost proved to be disastrous later in the race.

For me, the race went pretty well up to Howard Creek. I was thinking that I would finish early. Little did I know that the worst was yet to come. When Laurie and I completed the climb out of Howard Creek, she saw of friend of hers, Kathy (?) The three of us ran together briefly. Kathy is a very fast runner. I struggled to keep up with them. Kathy wanted to run with Laurie, since Laurie was familiar with the course. That was fine with me. I can run by myself with no problem. They took off after the Gridley Top A/S and I ran by myself to Cozy Dell. I've run the Pratt-Cozy Dell route in training with Laurie, but that was in the daytime. At night, the Cozy Dell trail is pure hell because it is quite rocky in sections. I had to walk the entire trail. When I finally got into the Cozy Dell A/S, Laurie was waiting for me. Kathy was too fast for Laurie. The Cozy Dell A/S was great. They had a huge buffet of food and Deb Clem was there.

The climb from Cozy Dell back up to Gridley Top was extremely long and difficult. Laurie was moving well, and I was having trouble keeping up. We made it to GT around midnight. There was originally going to be a 3 am cutoff at GT, but they decided to scrap that. Good thing, because it wound up taking me 5 hours to do the out and back. On the way down to Gridley Bottom, I bonked really bad and felt nauseous and dizzy. I told Laurie to go ahead. At Gridley Bottom I sat in the chair and had hot soup. That really helped. The climb back to GT was long, but it wasn't too bad. I got back to GT at 5:00 am. I had 5 hours to do 13 miles. Should be no problem, right? Wrong.

I had to do 7.8 miles to get to the Ridge Junction A/S, and the first half of that was uphill. It felt worse than the climb up Gridley. At this point I was getting really annoyed at the course. When were these climbs going to end? I finally got into Ridge Junction at 7:45 am. I had 2 hours and 15 minues to go 5 miles.

The first mile was an easy downhill on a fire road. Now I had a little more than 2 hours to go 4 miles. Unfortunately, they saved the worst trail descent for last. Going up Horn Canyon at the beginning of the race was tough enough, but going down the steep and rocky trail on tired legs was sheer agony. I couldn't run it. I could only walk slowly. I wasn't sure if I was going to make it to the finish by 10:00 am. I was getting pissed. I had busted my butt for 58 miles and I now I was going to be derailed by the last four miles. Fortunately, there was a woman running (walking) in front of me who knew the trail very well. She assured me that we would make it. She was right. I got to the finish with about 15 minutes to spare. Mieko finished around 9:00 am (she had stomach problems) and Laurie came in shortly after her. Connie was there at the finish to greet me. I wish you could have met her. It was nice meeting Carl.

C2M is easily the toughest and most brutal race I've ever done...period. Nothing else comes close to this wicked race.

66 Days - There's No Crying In CrossFit

It was 6am on a Tuesday morning, Eric's class. I stared at the 180 lb tire at a complete loss. It was the first time in my 'CrossFit career' that I legitimately thought that what was being asked of me was not physically possible. After finishing 70 burpees, 60 sit ups, 50 kettle bell swings, 40 pull up attemps, 30 push ups with some sprinting mixed in, I was now to flip this tire 10 times.

"How many times have you flipped it, Summer?" I heard Eric bark.

I shook my head. "I can't get it off the ground."

"Not with THAT attitude you won't."

Tears streamed down my face. Was I really crying? I wasn't hurt, I deserved to be yelled at, I was just frustrated. I had so far to go with this on so many levels.

That became even more apparent to me when I walked into the CrossFit Level 1 Running Certification on Saturday morning. It was nice to be doing this with Kellie because I was nervous, for a multitude of reasons. First off, I am Carl Borg's girlfriend and beyond being in a relationship with him, I have had an infinite amount of respect for him and what he does for a very long time. I felt like there might be expectations of me, or people judging me just a little bit more. The biggest fear though was coming face to face with my weaknesses. Running was sacred to me. It was the one area where I could excel in CrossFit. Breaking that down and learning that I might not be as good as I thought I was, terrified me.

The weekend consisted of lectures and drills by Carl and his partner in crime, Brian Mackenzie. It would take an entire blog in and of itself to describe everything that I learned, but I will definitely say that my view of running and how to do it has changed dramatically. I never thought that it would feel so differently than what I had been doing all my life. In a way, it was as if I was putting my left foot into my right shoe.

On Friday, I head out to Ojai for the Coyote Two Moon 100k. I feel very disoriented going into this. The course itself is ridiculous and beyond that, my head is spinning with new knowledge, new ideas. I think this weekend is going to take me back to the root of what ultrarunning is all about. Where skill is important, it is the mind that loses or wins in a race like this.

I stared at that tire this morning. There HAD to be a way... there just had to. Before too long, Joe came over to help me. He stuck his foot underneath it just enough for me to get a grip, and I did 10 flips.

"You did it." said Eric.

"I had to have help."

He shrugged. "Everyone had to modify something. The point is that you did it. You never want to see the letters 'DNF' next to your name on that board."

I nodded. There was still so much for me to learn and figure out how to apply. The point is that I don't give up and that I trust the knowledge of those that have gone down this road before me. Most people take the easy, rolling 5k fire road. The people that I know go barrelling through a 100 miler at 50,000 feet of elevation change on an unmarked trail with no aid stations. All I have to do is figure out how to keep up.

71 Days - Comfort Zones

As I logged in to my Facebook account a few days ago to accept my 'relationship request' from Carl, I had to laugh at the whole concept. After it is accepted, theres a place where, with the click of a mouse, you can 'cancel relationship.' Wouldn't be nice if life was that easy? Don't like your job? Click 'cancel job.' Don't like where you live? Just hit 'change location.'

The truth is that I think most people are always looking for the easy way out, which is what makes the community that I am involved with so unique. Not only do they not want to take the easy way out, they are constantly searching for ways to leave their comfort zone and become stronger.

On Saturday, I headed out to train with the Mt. Wilson Training Group. Before we began our run, Coach LeClair put his hand on my shoulder and said 'This is an important day for you.' Somehow I knew that was true even before he said that. We were going to do half of the race course - 4.6 miles. I took off fast... too fast. I still don't think that I am very good at pacing myself in the beginning of a run. The run up the mountain was brutal but I pushed as hard as I could. Coming down was rough too because my mind still does not work quickly enough with my feet to avoid rocks, etc. I finished our run at 49:21, completely spent. I was the 2nd girl to finish. Coach LeClair approached me afterwards. "See that girl over there?" I nodded as I glanced at the girl that had come in before me. "She placed in this event last year. You were only 20 seconds behind her. I believe in you."

Since most of my training recently has been outside of my comfort zone, it was nice on Sunday to return to the mentality that lured me into ultrarunning to begin with. I met my friends Kathy and Jean for a run on the Backbone Trail. It was a beautiful day on a runnable course. I love the fact that I am getting stronger. I love that before long I might even be able to be competitive in some of the events that I do. But nothing can replace days like this, catching up with 2 women that I respect very much, laughing and chasing each other on a wonderful trail run.

On Monday, it was back to work. We started out week at CrossFit with a workout called Fight Gone Bad, which consists of 3 rounds, 1 minute each of rowing, 55lb push presses, box jumps, 55 lb sumo deadlift high pulls and wall balls of 16 lbs to the 8 foot mark. This was an exciting day for me because I was actually able to do the entire work out to standard, meaning that I did not have to suppliment the standard weight for a lower one.

Dean has this phrase that I know I have mentioned before on here... 'people mistake comfort for happiness.' There has been nothing comfortable about my training over the past few months. I have not done anything the 'easy' way. But am I happy? Hell yes!

79 Days - The Difference in Running and Racing

"I think I choked," I admitted honestly to Coach LeClair in class yesterday.

I do... I keep thinking back about that race on Saturday and what I could have done differently. Yes, I cramped up, but did it really have to slow me down that badly? I saw the talented runners creeping up behind me and I think I suddenly became convinced that I did not deserve to be in that position. Who was I kidding?

Eric told me this story about a race that he was in. He was winning but a competitor was gaining on him. He thought the man had passed him but when he asked someone who was winning at the aid station, they gave him a funny look... "You are! Run!" Eric went on to win the race but was almost taken down by his competitor who was swiftly gaining on him as he stopped to ask where he was. That day he was racing. It is a completely different mentality. You have to know your field of competitors and you have to always be aware of where they are.

After my talk with Eric, we went in to begin class. Our work out was called Blackhawk - as many rounds as possible of 15 push jerks and 30 squats. When we were told to grab our bars, I picked up the 45lb one and didn't look back. Generally I would start the WODs with this bar but it would quickly be switched out for the 30lb. Today, I didn't want to give it up.

We were 12 minutes in when I started failing and I remember feeling the irony of the situation. This would have been the same percentage of distance that I was in the 50k when it crumbled down on me. "Come on, racer," I heard Coach LeClair yell. That got me fired up but I still felt like I had spent everything in me. At the end, although I was hurting, I pushed harder and finished 5 rounds total. But it made me think... I do have a mental block on the area just past the halfway mark of any race or work out. I've seen it consistently in myself. Now I just need to fix that.

82 Days - The Orange Curtain 50k

It was October 30, 2008 and I remember it as if it were last night. I collapsed on the floor of a half empty apartment, sobbing uncontrollably, not knowing what had happened or where my life was going from that point forward. When I moved out the next day, I still felt like I was laying on that floor. I had no idea how to pick myself back up.

In December, I walked into Team CrossFit Academy in Monrovia, not having no clue what to expect. I was still on that floor. And then there was Coach LeClair... who instead of giving me his hand and helping me up, showed me how to get back up on my own. Suddenly, I was balanced on my own two feet again, stronger than I had ever been before. I expected CrossFit to MAYBE make me a little better. Then, if I worked REALLY hard, I would get fast enough to just be able to barely beat the cut offs of some of the more difficult races that I wanted to do. But what I found was a community of people who believed in me, who saw beyond who I currently was and saw all that I could be, physically and mentally, even if I couldn't see that for myself. Then suddenly, through my new CrossFit family, another man named Carl entered my life, but not like my coach did. I didn't need him to help me up, I was already standing on my own. I didn't need his support, but I became stronger because of it. I didn't need his arms around me, but I felt safer inside of them. And although I was happy on my own, I am that much happier having him as a part of my life now.

Donn and I left my apartment at exactly 4:30am yesterday morning. I knew that CrossFit had made me stronger, but I was curious as to how I would perform that day. What awaited me exceeded my expectations. I took off at a comfortable pace. I wondered exactly how fast I was going but my goal was just to listen to my body. About 15 minutes into the race I saw a runner that looked like Brian a few feet in front of me. I even thought that his shirt looked a little like one I knew he had. Then I realized... it WAS Brian. I tried not to question my speed, but I knew I must be doing something wrong to have caught him this early... or... at all. As soon as I began to gain on him, he picked up the pace. I knew there was no way he would let me pass him.

As I rounded the first aid station, I heard the volunteers call out 'lead female!'

"Cool! Where?" I asked, thinking she must have already made the turn.

They gave each other a curious look. "Um... that would be you..."

I was in shock, but clearly this couldn't last. Obviously I had started way too fast, but it was fun to enjoy the feeling for the first 3 miles. Then 6 miles came and went... I was still in the lead. 9 miles... then 12 miles... then 15 miles... People were cheering for me and giving me the looks that I give to Michelle Barton as she passed, although I am no Michelle. It started to sink in. I was WINNING this race.

At mile 18, suddenly, it all came crashing down. I felt a strong cramp in my calf that did not want to let go. Then a few of the lead females past me. I hobbled to the next aid station and a nice man helped me rub it out, but it was still very painful. Part of me wanted to drop out, but I was trying to remember all the good that had come of that day so far. I had PRed my 10k at 51 minutes. I had PRed my 1/2 marathon at sub 2 hours. Suddenly, I started to feel better again. Although it would probably be impossible to catch the few front runners that were ahead of me, I wasn't giving up. Before too long, I had PRed my marathon - 4:20. I didn't have that much farther to go. I began to push. I finished the race in 4th place and PRed my 50k by over an hour at 5:14. The first thing I did was text Carl, who was away teaching a running certification in Texas. He was almost more excited for me than I was for myself. I wished he could be there to see what I had accomplished that day, but I also loved the fact that he was off doing what made him feel alive as well. We were both there beside each other in our own way.

Donn had a great race too. Although it would have been nice to run together, our ups and downs would not have mimicked each other and I probably would have held him back just as he was starting to pick up speed. He finished in 5:01, an amazing time for a 50k. As I crossed the finish line I gave him a smile. "We aren't 'back of the packers' anymore, Donn."

I am grateful for that hard, cold wooden floor. Had it not been there, I would not have learned how to pick myself off of it. I am also very grateful for the one that left me there. It was not out of unkindness, he was simply able to see something that I couldn't. And although I was happy with my life, there was something else that was in the works for me. I'm excited to see where the path in front of me is leading.

85 Days - Trust Me

I layed on the floor of my bathroom this morning, feeling as close to death as possible. I was wheezing and coughing, my legs were shaking as I crawled towards the toilet feeling as if any moment I was about to lose the sushi dinner that I had the night before. I glanced down at my stopwatch... 21:51. Could that be right? Had I really just PRed my 5k by over 2 minutes?

Last night I met up with Andy for dinner. It was a sushi restaurant in Studio City where traditionally you do not order the food, the chef chooses it for you. "Did you notice the artwork?" asked Andy. I turned around. In every picture were the common words 'Trust Me" referring to your trust in the chef.

It is hard to put ourselves in a position that we have to trust others whether it be in terms of food, our training, relationships... all of those circumstances have stared me in the face over the past few weeks. Sometimes we will get hurt, as I found in a gymnastics based CrossFit class that I attended on Tuesday. I am still nursing an injured shoulder, but that is all part of the process. Sometimes, we stand to gain more than we could possibly imagine. I never thought that simplifying my training into higher intensity, shorter work outs could produce results like I saw this morning. I have done NOTHING but trust my coach and follow the CrossFit methods of nutrition and training.

I've been asked by many people recently about my diet and training in relation to CrossFit. I will do my best to explain it. There are 10 areas of physical fitness that CrossFit focuses on: cardiovascular/respiratory endurance, stamina, strength, flexibility, power, speed, agility, balance, coordination, and accuracy. You cannot be physically fit without all 10 of these components. For example, my endurance is high, being an endurance athlete, but my balance is terrible hense the neck injury. If I correct the skills such as balance where I fall short, I will become a better runner.

So what is a CrossFit class like? Before I started going on a regular basis, I worked with my coach one on one in 4 sessions to familiarize myself with some very basic skills. Although basic, they are extremely important to master to help prevent injury. Our coach will post the work out very late at night the day before, so really, we do not know what we are doing until we get up and check the website the day of. A workout for us can be a range of things. One day it could be a 'skills day' involving Olympic lifts, one day it could be a 5k race, but generally the WODs (or work out of the day) have several different components and are done as hard and as fast as possible. If you have done them right, you will need a few minutes of down time collapsed on the floor before even walking out to your car.

As far as my diet, I am on The Zone. Nutrition is the single most important factor to this type of training. It is a 40:30:30 ratio of carbohydrated, protein and fat. Ideally all of your carbohydrates should be those that are found in the front of your grocery store from fresh fruits and vegetables. Do I cheat? Sure. This is a lifestyle for me, not some crash diet. When I really want a cookie, I have a cookie, then I am back to The Zone.

So how does running fit into all of this? I am still figuring that out. There is a program called CrossFit Endurance designed specifically for athletes like me to follow along with the regular CrossFit program. You might have heard of Carl Borg, the CrossFitter that ran the Angeles Crest 100 after only training up to 13 miles. He definitely raised some eyebrows in the ultrarunning community, but no one can deny by his 29:31 finish on one of the hardest 100 mile courses around that there was something to his method of training. It focuses on quality over quantity. Right now I am trying to figure out how this philosophy fits into my own training. If I want to be better, stronger and faster, I know this is the way to go. The problem is that is not always my goal. This year I want to have a good race at both KEYS and AC but just as important to me is the experience of pacing Donn and Dmitry in their 100 mile runs as well as Dean at Badwater. There will also be days that my friends go off to explore a new trail and I won't want to miss out on the 30 mile run leading nowhere and the adventure that we will all have together. So I am taking it day by day... listening to everyone and following no one. One thing is for certain though... there is something to this CrossFit thing and I am putting my trust into it whole heartedly.

97 Days - A Date with Coyote

The rain poured down on my little Toyota Echo as I fought through traffic to get to Ojai. I glanced at the car to my left. A well put together businessman chatted away carelessly on his bluetooth. His wife was probably home making dinner. The car on my left was full of 3 young beautiful girls, maybe wannabe actresses. Their evening would take them somewhere different. Maybe to Hollywood to dance their cares away in hopes of being 'discovered.' I turned my windshield wipers on high as I watched the predicted arrival time on my new GPS get later and later. What was I doing?

At 8:15pm, almost exactly, I pulled into the relatively empty Vons parking lot Then I looked towards the parking spots farthest from the store itself. I saw almost a dozen people strapping on their gaiters and fussing with their headlamps. A moment of excitement washed away the thoughts of discomfort that awaited me this evening.

Andy gathered the troupes and we drove to the start of our run along the Coyote Two Moon course. I didn't know what awaited me that night or what my biggest challenge would be. I still wondered why this race 'plays with your mind' as Andy put it or what about the course was so difficult. I was about to find out.

We took off into the darkness up our first steep climb. The rain let up but the air, as well as the trail, was very wet. I was soon drenched from head to toe. Every step landed me into another pool of mud which collected on my feet so thick that I felt like someone had strapped ankle weights around my legs. The ground slid out from underneath me on every step. I was behind Catra who is extremely experienced on these types of trails, having just returned from the HURT 100. She moved along as if it was nothing. I struggled to stay close to her as well as the rest of the group.

After the first few miles, the mud began to wear off our shoes and the trail became a little more manageable. I was glad that I had not given in to thoughts of returning to my car while I still knew how to get back to it. The group thinned out and most people chose a running buddy or two to get them through the night. My choice was a man named Mark. He is an extremely experienced runner from Ojai who has completed what I consider to be 'all the great races' - Wasatch, AC, Western States, Leadville... the list goes on. He also knew the trails very well and was a perfect tour guide. He was a good pace for me, although at times I feel that I may have held him back. I pushed myself to stay with him and it was a good experience since I am still not the best night runner.

I felt like I was dragging, but it wasn't long before we caught up to Andy and Catra again. Granted they were taking it slow, but at least I didn't feel like I was holding Mark back too badly. We passed them and continued our descent down Gridley. At this point, Mark and I had both decided that 20 miles would be a good stopping point for us. Neither of us wanted to overdo it out in those conditions and in staying true to the CrossFit philosophies, I was trying very hard to back off my mileage significantly. Six miles from the end of our run, the rain decided to greet us. It pounded down hard as we descended down the muddy area again, slipping and sliding as our feet were once again being weighed down. In a sick and twisted way, I thought to myself: this would be a great CrossFit workout. It took about 30 minutes to finish up the last mile. Mark and I said our goodbyes and our adventure was over, at least for one night.

Like any good relationship, before I 'did' Coyote, it was good that we met first. I know now how to mentally prepare myself. It is rocky, but not so much that it is unmanageable. Parts of it reminded me of Noble Canyon but nothing in comparison to what Nine Trails is like. The biggest challenge for me is the extreme climbs and descents, sometimes lasting for 7-8 miles with no break. For the most part, that section was very runnable, but my night vision is not the greatest and suddenly in the midst of a nice downhill, a rock would come from seemingly nowhere.

I still do not feel recovered from the races that I have done recently and I also think that it is going to take a while for me to adjust to CrossFit. With every step last night, I felt the weakness in my muscles. This weekend, I will rest and take it easy, for the most part. Monday I will be ready to work hard, once again.

99 Days - Red Wind

Named after Southern California's Santa Ana Canyon and a fixture of local legend and literature, the Santa Ana is a blustery, dry and warm (often hot) wind that blows out of the desert. In Raymond Chandler's story Red Wind, the title being one of the offshore wind's many nicknames, the Santa Anas were introduced as "those hot dry [winds] that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands' necks. Anything can happen." Local legends associate the hot, dry winds with homicides and earthquakes, but these are myths.

No one can really predict the whens and whys of the Santa Ana winds. The only thing predictable about them is their unpredictability. They can range from hot to cold and create a great deal of damage.

In class this morning, Coach LeClair asked us all to come outside for our warm up. What today? I thought. Indian runs? Sprint 800 meters? "I want you all to find something red and bring it back," he said. I quickly eyed a fellow classmate who was wearing a red jacket. Could I run faster than her? Probably, but when I caught her she would most definitely kick my butt. Hmmm.... "It cannot be something that you or someone else is wearing," continued Eric. Had he read my mind? "It cannot be something from your car and it cannot be a stop sign. These doors close at 10 minutes. You have that much time to get back here with your red object. Go!"

As we ran through the darkness, a beautiful red sunrise teased us in the distance. Too bad I couldn't bring that back. What was it that they say..? "Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky in morning sailors take warning."

It feels like a time for warning. I am not sure why exactly but change is in the air. I feel it as clear as that crisp cool air that flowed in and out of my lungs as I fought to find my red object this morning and I feel it as distinctly as the Santa Anas that blow in at night, beating the tree branches against my window. It is a strange time for all of us right now.

Tomorrow night will be a night of great adventure. I will not be curled up in my bed, sleeping soundly as I usually am on a Friday night. If all goes as planned, come early Saturday morning, I will finally stumble into my apartment, enjoy my warm covers like never before, listen to the rain that promises to visit us for the next few days and sleep with a Shih Tzu and a large, well earned Round Table pizza by my side. I wonder how early Round Table delivers. Details of my adventure to come!

101 Days - Little Ultras

I hopped around the gym, holding my left foot in pain. I knew that my squat thrusters weren't perfect, but there was really no reason that Coach LeClair should have clubbed me in the foot with the 45 lb bar. Okay fine, maybe he didn't beat me. It is possible that he was actually on the other side of the room when I dropped the bar on my foot. After a short break, I laced back on my shoe and headed back in. I went straight for the bar again. My toes had hurt a lot worse than this at about mile 75 of Javelina and no bones were sticking out so there was really no reason to quit. Coach expected me to finish too, I could see that in his eyes. Kellie came over and talked me through my last 15 or so and then it was off to the bar as I clumsily attempted 30 pull ups - 'attempted' being the key word there. At the end of the WOD, I felt like I had completed a little ultra.

From there, it was off to meet Andy for a 5-6 mile run. The weather was perfect and although we opted for street running, the beautiful San Gabriels greeted us in the background and it was a perfect way to start my morning. My toes were sore, but I breathed a sigh of relief that they were only bruised. I rather need them at the moment.

Effortlessly, Andy will make me a better runner, because I will push myself to mimmick him in that way. I had an opportunity to take one of Vanessa's classes yesterday too and I really like working with her. Her teaching technique is different than Eric's but just as effective. When I work with her, I want to BE her. When I work with Eric, I want to impress him. If the two of them started a cult, they would be extremely successful because I think that the masses would follow them pretty much anywhere! They are both great coaches.

It's amazing how life has this domino effect. One thing happens and it sets everything in motion, pushing you forward to where you have evolved and pushing you towards people that will make you stronger. You just have to be willing to change.

103 Days - Two Ways To Measure 10 Miles

On Thursday night, as Andy and I enjoyed a great sushi dinner, a text message came through on his phone. "They announced our start times for Coyote Two Moon," he said.

The race director, Chris, assigns groups based on what he thinks your finish times for the course will be and all 100kers are given a time that will force them to run through the entire night. The 100 milers are given one that will make them run through two nights, hense the 'Coyote Two Moons' name. I automatically logged on to the computer as soon as I got home. I was in K3, which would give me 20 hours to finish the course. Let me put this in perspective. I was given a 4 hour handicap to Donn and Brian was only given a 2 hour handicap to me. I was honored by Chris' faith in me but scared, to say the least.

Two trails and two different sets of friends awaited me as I rose from my bed on Saturday morning and welcomed my weekend. I met Andy at his place a few minutes before 7 and shortly, we were covering Sierra Madre on foot. After dropping my car off at the trailhead we ran to the start of the Mt. Wilson training. Coach LeClair lead us in some hill repeats on steep terrain just left of the trailhead. I tried to stay towards the front of the pack, but I was also holding back a bit since I knew that afterwards, I would have to spend most of my morning keeping up with Andy. After two repeats, Andy and I ran to Gary Hillard's house, the race director for Mt. Disappointment. Today he would host a run up Mt. Wilson in association with a picnic for the So Cal Ultrarunning Series awards. Andy and I, along with a local man named Dave, were assigned the task of marking the course.

Running with the two of them was a stronger pace than what I was used to running on my Saturday mornings, but at the same time, it was completely manageable. I know that Andy was running slow due to the fact that he was still recovering from HURT so he was not up to his usual speed, but as we ran, I relaxed my legs into every stride and every push of my muscles. This was my pace now. It was actually rather nice.

As we ran back down the mountain, familiar faces past us on the way up. We were the first ones to arrive at the picnic.

"Summer!" a familiar voice called out. It was Jill, a talented ultrarunner that I met at Mt. Disappointment. Jill is a neat person. She is a beautiful woman in her early 40s who looks like she is 30. She is always dressed in bright colors and cute running skirts, but don't let her outward image fool you. She kicks ass on the trails. "We are in the same group for Coyote!"

Oh thank God, I thought. It would be challenging to stay with Jill, but if I could manage it, I now had a friend to take me through the night. My nerves were suddenly calmed.

After the picnic and awards, I headed off to work a few hours before enjoying an evening of UFC fighting... wow, it surprised me how much I actually enjoyed watching that!

This morning, I met Kathy at the Backbone Trailhead. It had been too long. She was running with a group called the New Basin Blues and they welcomed me into their club immediately and even gave me a waterbottle. We were off for a 10 mile run, which was coincidentally about the same distance that I covered the day before, but what a different day it would be. I will let the video tell our story!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tT5ISQMBxRY&feature=channel_page

This weekend reminded me of the importance of running with others and adjusting my pace accordingly. My year of running is not just a commitment to myself, it is a commitment to Donn at San Diego, Dmitry at Western States and Dean at Badwater. That is a wide range of ability levels including strenghts and weaknesses that I need to prepare myself for. Regardless, some days are about pushing your body to extremes and training hard, and some are just about enjoying the day and the people that come with it. Sometimes the day is simply not about you, and by accepting that, there is something greater to be found.

108 Days - Return to Death Valley

Have you ever seen one of those horror movies like Jeepers Creepers or Silence of the Lambs where the killer plays soothing calm or classical music as he tortures his victims? It always makes the scenes that much more terrible. That's how I felt this morning in my CrossFit class as Coach LeClair opted for some Bob Marley as we were lead through five rounds of 21 push ups, 21 hanging knees to elbows and 21 double unders (or 42 singles). There was actually a point during my horrible attempt at push ups at round 4 where my arms were failing and I couldn't for the life of me make my mind work with the rest of my muscles to keep from 'peeling up' that I actually wished I could be one of those horror movie victims instead because really, all I would have to do in that scenario is lay there.

I remember when I ran my first marathon. After a year of hard training, I barely made it in under 6 hours and thought I was going to die. Looking back on how far I have come in the past few years, I can put everything into perspective and know that the worse I suck now is just the farther that I have to improve. So any pride that I have left after today's class I will shove to the side, keep getting up at 5am, keep pushing through to the best of my abilities and eventually it will be like that first marathon, and then like my first 50 miler, and then suddenly it will be like my 100 milers - still very challenging, but I will be that much stronger and more capable.

As of yesterday, I have a new reason behind my training, something that will push me harder than ever. Assuming that he gets in (and he said that with no sarcasm and all the humility in the world) I have been welcomed back on 'Team Dean' for Badwater this year. As I struggled through my last round today, I imagined myself pacing Dean through the desert, trying to catch Jorge Pacheco and holding off Pam Reed. Crewing and pacing can sometimes be just as rewarding as if the race was your own, especially at a race like Badwater. Suddenly, KEYS is starting to feel like it will be a training run to prepare me for helping Dean once again. Ideally, I would like to be able to pace him for at least 40 miles this year and I think that is realistic. I have 6 months to get my body there, but I am going to have some work to do.

111 Days - Chasing Hope

It seems that many of my friends are suddenly faced with new choices based on past relationship decisions. I would think there was a full moon assuming that they could last more than a few days. Maybe it's the rain in Los Angeles that brings people indoors and closer to their thoughts. I wonder sometimes if we make the decisions that we do based on comfort rather than what is best for us. But none of this has to do with me. Not today at least. Today I am just chasing Hope. And I mean that in the most literal of ways.

Today is Andy's birthday and this morning I opted to meet him for a Mt. Wilson training run, lead by Coach LeClair. It was good to see both him and some of my CrossFit friends again since I had opted out of training on Thursday due to food poisoning. The drill was simple... run for 2 miles, rest for half the time that it took to run that and then repeat the 2 miles once more. This type of training was unfamiliar to me and even a little outside of my comfort zone. Left to my own devises I probably would have logged a good 15-20 'junk' miles and left it at that. I had planned to take it slow but that plan quickly changed. I'm learning that I don't really like it so much when people pass me. Hope, the talented runner that I had trained with a few weeks ago was there and my goal was to keep her in my sights.

There were a few strong runners in front of me but I thought I might be able to catch them on the downhill. I was right. I finished my first two miles in 15 minutes which was pretty good for me considering that I am nowhere near recovered from the races that I have done recently. The second loop was only 30 seconds slower. I can thank two of the men that I passed on the first lap for breathing down my neck and keeping me from slowing down.

It was good to feel like I was actually racing, but I know I can be better with a little bit of work. My new goal on these runs is simple... keep up with Hope. If it wasn't so literal it would be poetic.

"You know Summer," Eric said, "You could win the Mt. Wilson race."

I shook my head. "It's three weeks after my next 100."

"You know Summer, you could come get drinks with us after the Mt. Wilson race." I laughed. But it was so great to have someone believe in me like that. I'm not going to let him down.

As I start to get ready for tonight's fun, a dinner with friend's to celebrate the birthday boy himself, the sun is starting to poke out from behind the clouds once more, leading us back to the life that we are used to here in sunny Los Angeles. What will we all choose to do out there surrounded by the predictability and comfort that we know? Will we settle into our own old lives and honor our former decisions or will we learn how to just let go and chase Hope?

114 Days - "We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us."

It was the Monday before New Years and I struggled with my bags aboard my Delta flight back to Los Angeles. Sammie was of course a nervous wreck as I slid her underneath the seat in front of me and packed away my laptop. A thin, runner looking guy took the seat next to me. As I tried unsuccessfully to keep Sammie from chewing through her carrier, we began to make small talk. His name was Mike and he was an ultrarunner too. In fact, Avalon was going to be his first 50 miler. His goal was to run the Angeles Crest 100, hopefully this year. We ran into each other during the race and last night, he located me on Facebook. And just like that, another new friendship was born.

Learning that there is no one thing or person that you can hold on to in life it probably one of the most difficult lessons. It is one that I am still trying to learn myself. People come and go so abruptly at times, either by your choice, theirs or by circumstances beyond control but by letting go of the past, it allows others that are meant to be there to enter. Easy to say, but it still does not make you care about those that are gone any less.

Letting go of the old and making room for the new is the theme of my week. My next ultra is 5 weeks away. It is time to step outside of my comfort zone of training and invest my time into something entirely different than my usual routine. Tomorrow morning I return to CrossFit and from tomorrow until the Orange Curtain 50k, my focus will be there. I have to resign myself to the fact that this will not be an area of strength for me for possibly a very long time, but the long term benefits will be worth the hit to my pride right now.

116 Days - The Avalon 50 Mile Run

"Move it, legs, MOVE IT!!" I yelled at myself. God, how could I be so stupid? Who forgets their water bottle?

Erich had opted for the 4am start time and I was going to go with him. Then suddenly it dawned on me, about 30 seconds before the RD announced the beginning of the race that I had left my water bottle in the room. I told him to go and I would catch him. By the time I returned, I was only 10 minutes behind.

"Go up this road and take a right by the colliseum," said the RD.

"Any other turns?" I asked. He shook his head no.

Actually, there were 3 turns. When I finally realized that and ran back down to find the RD who was already gone, I had wasted 40 minutes. I had no choice but to hopefully guess appropriately and book it as fast as I could up the steep hill in front of me. Sure, Erich was completely capable of doing this on his own, but it is always nice to have company, especially for your first 50 miler.

I clicked on my headlamp and away I went. Only one problem... my batteries were out. Seriously??? Okay, these could not be good omens. I sprinted ahead as fast as I could, praying to God that I didn't hit a rock and go flying. I caught my first runner several miles in.

"You're the blonde!" he said. "Someone is looking for you."

"How far away?" I asked.

"About 1/4 mile. If you move fast, you can catch him."

"Thank you!" I said. And I sprinted off.

In the distance was the first aid station. I couldn't believe it... there was Erich! I had caught him. Relief soon turned to worry again for me. I had just sprinted uphill for more than the first hour of a 50 mile run, after running 80 miles two and a half weeks prior to this. Was it even realistic that I would be able to stay with Erich? I knew today would be a fight, for both of us now.

Erich went into this run with only one long run since the Ridgecrest 50k, which was early December. More than that, he has been fighting a bad hip and knee injury, made worse by running. I was in pain too, overuse pain more than anything else, but I was trying not to show it. I didn't have the right to be in pain. Erich had helped me through the worst pain of my life in my first 100 mile run. That day was mine. Two weeks ago I pushed through ATY where I won my trophy. That day was mine too. But today... today was HIS. He would finish or die trying, I knew that, but I also knew from my own experiences how difficult it would be for him. But Erich was calm and focused, as I always know him to be. He hardly let the pain show as he concentrated and just kept pushing on.

That is, until about mile 44. Blisters had overcome his feet to the point that it was extremely painful for him to walk. He did his best to drain them and keep going, but the pain was excruciating. As we left the aid station, he suddenly realized that he had left his sun glasses.

"I'll be right back," I said. I went back to the aid station and grabbed them.

By the time I came back, Erich was lying on his back in the middle of the trail, head on his camel pak.

"What are you doing??" I said.

"I need to lay down." He said with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. Erich is one of those people that you know will accomplish whatever he sets his mind to. You know he won't give up and you know he won't let you, or especially himself down. There was nothing I could say or do to push him more than he was already pushing himself. So I didn't question it. I just waited. I timed out 10 minutes for him, he got back up and suddenly, he was moving better. The break had served its purpose.

As we climbed up our final hill, I looked out over the beautiful island and remembered the last time I had been here like it was yesterday. I could still hear Moose's voice: "This is great... this is just great." I wished he was running with Erich in that moment. He would know what to say to give him the strength to get through those next few miles. He would know what to say to make him suddenly love the experience. I wished I was able to channel his words somehow.

The last 3 miles of descent couldn't come soon enough. It was exciting coming back into Avalon, seeing fans out cheering. A few volunteers held up a finish line ribbon that we ran through. It was finished.

By the time that we got back to the hotel room, Erich had sworn off ultrarunning. And not the way that I do when a race kicks my butt and then I go sign up for another one. He legitimately sounded like he would never line up to one of these start lines again.

I was sad. I wanted him to feel how awesome his accomplishment truly was. I wished somehow I could make him realize that I have felt exactly that way before without sounding like I was blowing smoke up his ass. But the truth is, maybe ultrarunning isn't for all of us crazy athlete types. It probably isn't for most of us, actually. Erich is a natural athlete. If I could be as good as he was at handball or CrossFit, maybe I would not want to have ultrarunning as a part of my life either. Maybe if I could do ANYTHING else but run in a straight line for long periods of time, I would. Ultrarunning throws natural ability out the window and depends almost fully on training and time dedication.

With that being said, I hope that he does decide to pursue his original goal of running 100 miles, because with his perserverance, he would do a damn good job of it.

I loved being out there this weekend. I loved the pain of that sprint up the first climb. I loved watching Erich among others hit their highs and lows, overcoming adversity. I saw people when their true human nature comes out and what they are really made of. One this is for certain... I love what the people of the ultrarunning community are made of and I am so proud to be a part of it.

Here is some footage I took during the race. I won't be winning any cinematography awards any time soon, but this will at least give you an idea of what it was like:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KcXufNs9rHk&feature=channel_page

155 Days - I Won??

Completing Across The Years was an exciting accomplishment in and of itself. You can imagine my surprise when a large box came in the mail for me from the race director. I opened it and there was a beautiful trophy engraved 'First Place Open Female.' Surely there was some kind of mistake. And how cruel that I was going to have to send it back. It would look so great under my Javelina trophy on my bookshelf.

After a little research, I shortly realized that the women that were in front of me were 40+, putting them in the Masters Division. I had, in fact, earned my awesome trophy!!

This was a perfect running morning. I had not planned to do much in preparation for Avalon next weekend, but when Andy invited me out for a 'short and slow' run in the San Gabriels, I couldn't resist. There we met Kellie, Hope and Amy, all CrossFitters. The run was 4 miles up, 4 miles down on the Mt. Wilson trail. I quickly learned that Hope was a very gifted uphill runner, and I found myself doing my best to stay with her later in the run. Amy twisted her ankle on the way down, but it looks like it shouldn't be anything too serious. Kellie continues to amaze me with her running progress. One of the best things about Kellie is her willingness to learn. So many people think they have the answers right off the bat and won't listen to what others have to teach them. "Listen to everyone, follow no one." is one of my favorite Dean quotes. She definitely has that down to a science. After our run, we all went to breakfast. I really liked my new group of friends. Although I miss attending the Goats runs, it was great to start familiarizing myself with the mountains that are in my back yard.

It was nice to spend some time with Andy today too. He is a much more talented runner than I am and I have a lot that I can learn from him. He has also become a very good friend since the race that we did in San Francisco a few months ago. I'm surrounded by such great people right now. Somehow I think that thanks to them, there will be many more trophies to keep my ATY one company in the future!

158 Days - Patience is the ability to count down before you blast off.

I get very frustated with sick people. Not the legitimately sick ones that have done everything to take care of their bodies and still end up with something going wrong once in a while, but the people like my coworkers who I see munch down McDonalds every day and catch every cold and flu under the sun, forcing the healthy folks to cover in their absense. I certainly don't suck down fast food, but there is such thing as not taking care of your body by pushing it too hard, and that is what I have done.

I was eager to get back to CrossFit on Monday morning. It has been so long since I had seen my new friends and other than those I had just seen at ATY, they were the only people in my life that really understood the 'why' behind what I had just accomplished. It was great reunion and I was excited to get started again. My body, however, was not. As much as I would love to be Catra Corbett and jump back into class the day after a 24 hour run, I have to realize that I am not quite there yet. As an ultrarunner, I should have understood the importance of patience. True, it is important that I push beyond my limitations but it is also important to know when those limitations become something that is beyond a healthy realm of my current physical capability. As Erich so eloquently put it I was "crazy, flirting with stupid. And this isn't the harmless type of flirting either, this is the flirting that leads to adultery and bastard children." He was right.

For the past three days I have paid for my stupid mistake with exhaustion, migraines, a cough and sinus issues. ATY was only my second run past 50 miles and CrossFit is still very new to me. I also have another big thing that I am asking of my body a week from now. I will be going out to Avalon for the 50 miler. There are two reasons that this is important to me, neither of which are setting a PR. One is that it will be Erich's first 50 miler and I am excited to see him cross the finish line there. The other reason, the big one that lead me to sign up in the first place is that Avalon is the home of the Moose and my last race together. I feel that somehow being on that island will bring me a little closer to him for that day. I know he will be there, helping both Erich and I through our challenges that will face us.

The next week is about two things. The most important is to make it on that boat to Avalon feeling healthy enough to run 50 miles. The other thing is about weening myself back into CrossFit. My plan right now is Tuesday and Thursday of next week and then Tuesday and Thursday of the following week during my recovery. Although I don't usually need a lot of recovery time after a 50 miler, I think this time may be different considering how much I have done as of late. After that, my focus will be on CrossFit and on running a PR 50k at Orange Curtain on February 21th. CrossFit will be the perfect training for that.

Ultrarunning will always be there. So will CrossFit. Fortunately my body was kind enough to me to make me feel like crap rather than to let me continue and get injured. There will be a day that I will be like Catra in respect to her physical capabilities, but that day isn't here quite yet.

162 Days - Perspective

Russell Hays

Russell Edward Hays, age 32, of Auburn, GA died Thursday January 1, 2009. A memorial service will be held at 3:00 PM Sunday, January 4, 2009 at the First Baptist Church of Lilburn. A native of Dallas, GA, Mr. Hays was an employment recruiter. He was a graduate of Parkview High School in Lilburn and attended Shorter College. Russell was a talented musician who played many instruments and was a member of The Buzzards band. He also coached recreational league football in Dacula where his son played. Survivors include his wife, Samarah Hays of Auburn; son, Isaac Avery Hays and daughter, Lillian Miia Hays, both of Auburn; mother and step-father, Teresa & Michael Leahey of Cleveland; father and step-mother, Doug & Michelle Hays of Locust Grove; sisters and brothers-in-law, April & Glen Sikes of Buford and Brandy & Ernest Sikes of Dacula; brothers, Douglas Hays of Lawrenceville and Daniel Hays of Fairburn; grandmother, Bernice Hays of Locust Grove; and many other family members and friends. In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made for the benefit of the Russell Hays Family at any Regions Bank branch. Arrangements by Bill Head Funeral Homes and Crematory, Lilburn/Tucker Chapel. (770) 564-2726

I remember Russell well. When I was in high school, I used to go to his house after school. His mom and mine were good friends from church. Russell was a good looking red head with the personality to match it. We would ride around town way too fast in his pick up truck, listening to country music. But we were 16 and invincible. We would cut Sunday night church to hang out together in the cemetary and talk about the things we were going to do with our lives. Russell was one of my first crushes and I'll always remember the memories that we shared.

As I looped a track just a few days ago, the world lost Russell Hays in a tragic car accident. It makes me realize once again how fragile life is. Although he was no longer a part of my daily life, I will mourn his loss. I was lucky to have him as a part of my life when I did. Goodbye, my friend.

165 Days - Across The Years Part 2

As a slightly more conscious version of myself begins to remember the events of New Years, I realize that I left out so much, and yet how could I possibly retell what I experienced out there? January 1st for most people is about making resolutions. For the people that surrounded me that day, it was simply about living out commitments. I had fun running around that track, pushing myself to extremes, chasing other gifted runners and seeing how I stacked up, but I felt lucky and honored to be spending that time with the people that were out on that course.

Early in the race, I remember Juli Aistars telling me how great it was to meet me. How cool! I remember introducing myself to Lisa Bliss and how friendly she was to me throughout the race. Wow... what I would give to be like one of these to extraordinary women one day! And as much as I would love their skills, I am not even referring to that. These women aren't the women that get caught up in petty things, create drama, are afraid to get their hands dirty. They are strong, tough, all around GOOD people. To receive e-mails from both of them after the race was beyond an honor. I finally had a chance to spend some time with Flora, a young, talented ultrarunner that I had met while pacing Mike at Angeles Crest. She was a true fighter, doing her first 48 hour run. Her beautiful spirit kept me alive and running through the night. I watched as Wendell Doman, one of my all time favorite race directors perservered to win the 24 hour run with his wife and son there to support him. Wendell was focused, but beyond winning the race, he was bursting with pride for his son Aaron who had just completed his first 100 miles. At 31 years old, I can take a deep breath and loudly proclaim that I have found my place in the world. That day, it was in the town of Buckeye, Arizona.

I am alone tonight, in a one bedroom apartment in Glendale, California, with my loyal little Shih Tzu asleep at my feet. But I don't feel alone at all. These people are my friends and my family. They are the greatest people I have ever known.

As Donn and I finished up our breakfast this morning, two vaguely familiar faces graced the table next to ours. It was a German couple who had been involved with the race. Ulli (the husband) had just finished race walking and his wife (who had a beautiful name, but I cannot pronounce it much less remember how to spell it) was there to support him. He began to recap the ultras that he had done when he was younger. His wife turned to me and said in her thick accent: "You are so young. The best is yet to come." She was referring to my speed, but my thoughts went somewhere different. Don't get me wrong, I want to be fast and I am going to work at that but there are so many other aspects to this that I am in love with. She's right. The best IS yet to come.

166 Days - Across The Years 24 Hour Run

There was a phrase that the Moose used to like to use: "A hundred miler is bigger than us." I think if he were here he would have said the same about a 24 hour run. Across The Years was undeniably larger than me in ways that I wouldn't fully experience until I got on that track.

Three races were going on at once. The 72 hour run, that began on December 29th, the 48 hour run that began on December 30th and our race that began on the 31st. Two other 24 hour runs had already taken place. The course was .5 kilometers in length and every two hours we would switch directions. It was a mental challenge to say the least. When the race began I had pipe dreams of running 100 miles, although only two women had accomplished that the year before. I knew it wasn't completely realistic and that goals might have to be adjusted.

I started the run pretty strong, going out at a 10-11 minute mile. Donn started even stronger. Before I knew it he was lapping me left and right. 5 hours in, I began to develop severe stomach issues and could not successfully keep anything down. With 19 hours to go, I didn't know what to do. Fortunately, after sitting for a little while and drinking Mrs. Coury's magic ginger ale, I was back up.

Donn was about 8 miles in front of me but I got my legs back underneath me later in the afternoon. I ran strong and began to catch up on mileage. Because of the issues earlier in the day, I did not cross the 50 mile mark until after 12 hours. To make 100 miles, I needed to be there around 10-11 hours. My goal shifted to running 100k, and then taking it easy from there to save myself for the Avalon 50 miler in a few weeks.

Midnight came and runners gathered around a gazebo to toast and do our friends and family lap and watch fireworks. As I looked around, I realized how lucky I was to be starting off the New Year with such great people. My friends back in LA were drunk at house parties and bars and I was here, in the middle of a nowhere town in Arizona, pushing my body to extremes, finding out what I was capable of. This was truly my best New Years ever.

After celebrating, many of the multi day racers opted for a nap. It was cold... very cold. I was wearing both a fleece jacket and a heavy North Face ski jacket and I was still shivering. I had been going pretty slow since dark, but I realized one thing that would warm me up... running! Sure enough, my muscles were up for the challenge. Moreso than I expected. I'm not exactly sure what happened. Maybe there was some magic in the 'good luck' message that Jamie Donaldson had left me earlier or maybe the stomach issues had allowed me to save my legs properly, but I started flying past the other runners. I was suddenly the fastest girl on the course. As I ran, I saw my name move up on the list of leaders until I was the 5th girl of the day. I had four girls to catch and they were all within a few miles. Something took over my body and I held my pace for the next 4 hours, bypassing two of the girls. I was now the 3nd place woman for the day and 5th overall for the 3 days worth of 24 hour runners. Unfortantely, as close as I got, the first two girls were not about to let me catch them and blisters reared their ugly heads as the sun began to rise, and I was back to hobbling around the track. But I had gotten such a lead, I was able to finish as the 4th girl that day and 6th girl overall at all three days of 24 hour runs.

It was a great experience to be duking it out with 4 other strong women. Although this is not a large race, it made me feel as if I was a gifted runner, fighting to place. I finished the race with a little over 80 miles, respectable for a first 24 hour event.

Donn, too, found his nitch out there. He finished with 84 miles under his belt which is absolutely incredible. Looking at our names appear in the top half of the runners was definitely a confidence booster for both of us. We came a long way in 2008 and there was not a better way in the world to celebrate that.

172 Days - Earning Butterflies

When I was a little girl. I loved butterflies. Not pink and purple butterfly designs or the child-like equivalent, but legitimately the bug itself. I would befriend the little creatures when I found them out in my yard and especially one in particular that I named Lisa. Every night Lisa would fly up to our back porch and I would let her in the screened door. Every morning I would let her out and she would fly around the yard, landing on me occasionally. She continued this pattern for about a week before her life span came to an end.

I learned when I got older that Lisa was an Eastern Tiger Swallowtail Butterfly and that this behavior never would have occured in a butterfly like this or in any other. The world is an amazing thing with many miracles.

Saturday morning, I got up early to run with the Goats. It was a crisp 31 degrees as I parked my car and joined the others. Most of my usual running buddies were not there so I opted to run on my own. I wanted to start testing myself and seeing what I was capable of. I took off quickly and didn't look back. Only Brian and 2 other Goats were in front of me and I expected the others to begin passing me at any time. I ran hard, but at a pace that was still manageable. In the back of my head was Coach LeClair's voice from Thursday. "Don't settle for being in the back Summer..." No one was racing me, but I was definitely racing myself. When we reached a turn in the road, I looked back to ask another runner where to go. I turned around and I didn't see anyone. Surely I took a wrong turn. I kept running and saw the two other faster runners not too far ahead. I followed them. For 10 miles, I ran hard but I felt good. I was the 4th Goat to finish that morning and my friends jokingly asked what I had for breakfast.

On Sunday, before I left for Atlanta, I made a stop by a place called 'High Voltage,' a tattoo shop where my friend Adam from CrossFit works. He designed a beautiful butterfly tattoo just for me to help me commemorate my Javelina finish. It felt earned and seemed only appropriate.

I'm excited about where my life is leading me right now. I am happier now than I have been in quite some time and I feel as if I finally have the support in my life that I need to reach my goals. I'm ready to see what my potential might actually be if I really put my mind to becoming a better athlete. First stop: ATY, a 24 hour race that I will run only 6 days from today. My body has not changed that much in a few weeks, but one thing that is changing is my mind. I do not expect to hit any unrealistic goals but what I will do is set the bar a little higher. If a silly little butterfly can reach beyond it's limitations and become something greater than it was intended to be, surely I can too.

179 Days - My 2009 CrossFit/Ultrarunning Challenge

It was a cold morning, colder than Southern California usually sees. The mountains behind our CrossFit facility were painted with snow from the storms that we have had the past few days. Coach LeClair sent us out for our warm up and I opted to run. I was out the door quickly, following another strong runner in our class. Being the ultrarunner in the group, I couldn't let him beat me around the block. I stayed on his heels, but he was fast. As I rounded the last corner, I felt my air passages start to close up from the exertion as well as the cold air. "Crap," I thought. "asthma attack."

I have a tendency not to tell my coaches or those around me that I have asthma, but I should have known better than to think that Eric would baby me. I couldn't stop coughing and when I finally told him, he nodded and said "No problem, cough all you want." It was a refreshing change from the people in my life that have consistently told me to stop what I am doing, sit down, rest, don't continue. I know my body. If I'm about to pass out, then I will stop. Okay, maybe that's not completely true, but I don't like to get special treatment because of it. As a compromise to myself, I will start bringing my inhaler to class. I have a feeling that won't be the last time that I need it.

Today was challenging for me, as it always is. We had 5 rounds of 3 snatch grip dead lifts, 2 power snatches, 1 overhead squat, bear crawl to the gate and sprint back to the bar. Two minute break in between, and repeat. I was hurting by the halfway mark. Not only were my muscles wearing down, but my hands were tearing up from the cold, hard cement.

I was on my 10th bear crawl to the gate when I thought everything was about to give out. Shannon and Kellie, two very strong CrossFit women were right in front of me. "Don't settle for being in the back, Summer," Eric yelled. "Pass them." My arms and hands were screaming at me, but I knew that the faster I went, the quicker this would be over. I put his words to action, pushed ahead and sprinted back to finish.

I'm not a natural athlete. I never have been. I've never really been given any guidance in ultrarunning other than hearsay and I have completed some events by pure stubbornness, not by good training and nutrition. So here's my question. Given the proper tools such as training and correct fuelling, the types of things that I can get from CrossFit, how far can someone like me, plain Jane, middle of the pack runner on a GOOD day, take this sport? What tools do the top athletes in this field have and what do I need to do to get them?

I will still run ultras to have fun. I will still run with friends and choose a comfort level suitable for both of us and help pace others in their 100 milers. But there are races this year where I will not accept mediocracy from myself anymore. This is not a New Years resolution. I do not believe in them for a multitude of reasons. However, it is my year to get better, stronger, faster. Now is the time for curiosity to win, for fear to fails and to find out exactly what I am made of.

182 Days - Weekend Warriors

"SOS," said Coach LeClair as 8 tough men and 5 just as fierce women gathered around him on a cold Saturday morning. "That is what we have traditionally called this class. It stands for 'Suffering on Saturdays."

A good teacher will teach you the hows, a great teacher will teach you the whys. Eric was a great teacher. He went on to explain to us why Saturday mornings were set up the way that they were. We would face challenges here to prepare us for anything that might happen. As he continued to talk to us, his words sounded oddly familiar. I remember Andy's advice as I went into my first 100 mile race. "It's not about how well you have trained or how much you prepared, but it's about expecting the unexpected." Every day, CrossFit seemed to be fitting in more and more with my ultra training.

Our goal that day was simple. 5 women (including myself) had to carry a 150 lb tire around the block twice (1600 meters total) and the 8 men had to carry a 300 lb tire the same distance without letting it touch the ground. We had a few minutes to strategize and then we were off. The women finished together in just over 30 minutes. Later that afternoon, I had to laugh a little as I flipped through my work out journel. Only a month ago the entries were 'Bootcamp - Abs' and now my entry was 'Carried a 150 lb tire 1600 meters with 4 other girls.' I wear the bruise on my right shoulder with pride.

On Sunday morning, Kellie, one of my new CrossFit friends, and I headed out to Encino Hills Drive for a 13 mile run. Kellie was training for the AC 100 in 2010 and this would be her longest run thus far. She was a good training buddy. I liked spending time with other strong women. I liked that as half of Hollywood was laying in bed, recovering from hangovers, the two of us were out here, conquering Mulholland. She possessed the strength and agility that I needed and I possessed the endurance that she needed. We both had a lot we could learn from each other.

Another great thing happened this weekend. My crew for KEYS 100 came out of the woodwork. So... without further adieu... meet the crew!

Crew Captain - Ko Ohka

Ko's dream is to one day run Badwater and is now an accomplished crew member in that race. He spends his free time heat training, year round, and can be found running 50 miles, out and back to his parents house at any given day. There is no one you want on your side more than Ko when training fails and sickness or blisters set in. He knows how to cure it all. Ko crewed me at the Mt. Disappointment 50 miler this year and helped me come back from a DNF and beat the cut off by an hour and a half.

Crew Member - Dear Ol' Dad!

My dad is my biggest fan. He comes to any race that I ask him to be at and stays up all night making sure I am ok without a single complaint. He has been at my first 50 miler, Leona Divide and also crewed and paced me at the American River 50 miler where I finally qualified for Western States. Most recently he flew all the way out from Atlanta to crew and encourage me through my first 100 mile run.

Crew Member - Joey Stafura

Joey has been one of my very best friends for a very long time. I know that if I ever need anything, he will always be there. Joey has never been a part of an ultra before so he is in for quite the surprise!

185 Days till the KEYS 100!

As I bent down in my closet this morning to pick out a pair of shoes accomodating to my Ridgecrest blister, I realized for a split second that I might be stuck. My legs didn't want to push me back up and my arms let out a little 'Screw you!' in their own way when I tried to utilize them. In a slow 'I just ran 50 miles' sort of way, I inched my way up.

But I hadn't just done a 50 mile run. I had, however, just come home from my first official day of CrossFit. Friday's are what they refer to as 'Happy Hour' where you pick a WOD (work out of the day) and attempt a PR. Lucky for me, anything I did would be a PR since I had never done any of them. Vanessa, Eric's fiance, was the instructor today and I was happy to finally get a chance to work with her. I didn't know her well, but I liked her. Her name graced the tops of each WOD board, listing the best female time for almost every, if not all the work outs. She was strong and tough, with a quiet confidence. She didn't need to say she was good... she WAS good. That was apparent. She was what I strived to be one day in these classes.

Since it was my first day, she chose my work out for me. It was called 'Cindy.' Cindy consisted of 5 pull ups, 10 push ups, 15 squats, as many rounds as possible in 20 minutes. Sounds easy, huh? Even in my modified version (jumping pull ups and push ups on my knees) this work out kicked my butt. But I like this feeling. When I first decided to lose weight almost 9 years ago, it was fun to watch my body transform and when I started running distance, it was fun to go out for long runs that were longer than I have ever gone before. Now I get that experience all over again, from my first pull up to the first time that I get to do a work out with what is considered to be the standard weight.

As I walked into the office this morning, one thing was certain. If I was going to work this hard to get stronger and faster, I needed a goal - my next 100 miler. I had a few on my mind, but usually if I think about it for a few days, my heart will show me the right ones. I've picked two for next year, beginning with the KEYS 100. It is a Badwater style race in Florida during extreme heat with a self supported crew. So far, that will just be my dad, but I am working on finding another crew member. The race starts in Key Largo and ends at Smather's Beach. If I can pull this off, it should be a good thing to have on my resume when applying for Badwater in 2010.

My second 100 miler of 2009 will be the infamous Angeles Crest 100. Ambitious, yes, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Rites of Passage

In some parts of Brazil, boys have to stick their hands in a glove filled with bullet ants. One sting from this creature can supposedly feels like getting shot with a bullet. It also takes about 24 hours for the pain to recede after getting stung. These boys have to do this 20 times before becoming a warrior of the village.


In a sick and twisted sort of way, I think Brazil has it right. I'm not about to stick my hands into gloves filled with angry bullet ants, but pain is the test of a person's true character. It is only at that extreme threshold where we break down all of our walls and find out who we really are.


I was able to identify some of that in me during Javelina, but I am nervous about tomorrow. That will be my last one on one session with Eric before officially beginning CrossFit. He warned me that what I will go through will probably leave me passed out on the floor. I'm not scared of pain or working hard, but I am scared of finding that pain threshold in me. Will CrossFit finally be the thing that shows that to me? Is there a time when I will just give up? I haven't found that point yet but I would hate that about myself if that was the case.

The Ridgecrest 50k

I'm not very smart. Although I try, I don't always figure things out on my own. I'm not always quick-witted and sometimes when I attempt to be, I end up saying something stupid. I get lost everywhere I go. That is just me.

This weekend, my lack of 'smartness' paid off. It was not very smart to line up at the start line of a 50k only 3 weeks after my first 100 mile race. But today was the happiest day I have had since crossing the finish line at Javelina.

The start of the run was a fabulous reunion of familiar faces. When Erich and I arrived, Kathy had taken off an hour earlier, but the rest of the Goats stood in one of the college buildings getting warm. We saw Andy, Xy and Fred as we lined up. Everyone was full of hugs and excitement.

Erich and I started together and were joined here and there by Jim, Elaina, Jean and Leigh. For the first few miles, I felt good but Erich's pace was strong. My legs were still very aware that I had just run a 100 miler and I knew it would be a struggle to stay with him. But days like this are better when shared and it looked like both of us stood a darn good chance of PRing our 50k times on this course.

It was a beautiful day in the high desert. The weather changed from nice to cold to rainy and back again. Around mile 20, I knew I would not be able to hold Erich's pace much longer. In the distance, I saw a patch of white hair bobbing up and down. Could it be? Yes! We had caught a Frog! Froggie and I finished off the race together as Erich went on to finish about 30 minutes before us. We both PRed.

At lunch, a group of happy Goats devored Mexican food and told stories about their great adventure. Brian was truly the 'Goat of Honor' having won his first ultra. I smiled. He looked happy.

As Erich and I began our drive back to LA, surrounded by desert rainbows and singing loudly to bad 80s music, I reflected back on the day and smiled for myself this time. I have some great friends who make these experiences unforgettable. A high note from the passenger's seat interrupted my thoughts and I couldn't help but laugh. Erich was a great new partner in crime. The world is exactly as it should be. I am happy too.

Introduction to CrossFit

The student becomes the teacher becomes the student... if you are living life the right way I think this is constantly the case. If you are always learning, you are never passing along your knowlege. If you are always teaching, then you are ignoring the words of wisdom surrounding you each day.

Pulling up to the CrossFit facility in Monrovia, I felt out of my element. I had enjoyed being a part of Barry's Bootcamp for the last 6 months. It was fun to get up in the morning and run on the tredmills with Jessica, Tiffani and Leslie, working out and listening to Fergie and Pink as Nadia led us in our weight lifting. It was a great way to start my mornings. The CrossFit building looked a little like an underground fight club. Even as I passed it in my car, I heard the clanking of bar bells and the grunts of the fit, muscular men inside. I remembered what Erich had told me about putting himself in the hospital after his first CrossFit work out. I took a deep breath and went inside.

As I walked in a few minutes early, I smiled as I saw a framed photo of Dean and Eric LeClair, the owner. He had been a volunteer at Mt. Disappointment this year. As soon as he saw me, he came right out and greeted me. A few more people arrived and our 'cherry class' as they called it was full with only 4.

The class was introductory but even in the brief exercises that we did, I could see how intense CrossFit truly was. A group of Jiu-Jitsu fighters worked out behind us as we went through some of the drills. I knew I was home.

I will definitely miss my time at Barry's. Had I not had that foundation, it would be extremely difficult for me to enter into this world. But in life, it is important not to get too comfortable. Something that Dean said once that I love is that 'people confuse comfort with happiness.' I think true happiness comes when you stop being afraid to step outside of your comfort zone and try new things. I start with my new trainer, Eric, on Thursday.

The Javelina Jundred

The alarm went off around 4:30am on Saturday morning although I had already been awake for quite some time. In fact, I don't even really remember going to sleep. I was blaming it on my dad's snoring, but in truth, that would have been easy to sleep through had it not been for the challenge that faced me that day. Truly, this would be the greatest physical challenge of my life.

My running gear and Alice in Wonderland costume were layed out neatly on the hotel desk across from the bed. Within about 5 minutes, I was dressed and ready, awaiting our 4:45am departure. Erich and Donn met us in the hallway, and away we went for an adventure that would forever change me.We arrived at the start line an hour before take off. As I scanned the other runners, I noticed that few were dressed up, and almost no one dressed as elaborately as I was. Some people would be embarrassed by this, but not me. I was eyeing the trophy for best costume. Oh yes, it would be mine!

It was still dark when Jamil, the race director, signaled the start of the race. We were off, underneath one of the most beautiful moons I had ever seen. The runners all chatted excitedly. Many were first time 100 runners like me. The first 15.4 mile loop was fast for me, but I felt good. Only a few miles in, I saw Lee, the person that had chosen Javelina for me as my first 100. It was an exciting reunion. I saw Michelle Barton and Jamie Donaldson chatting together and Michelle gave me a big smile and wave each time we passed each other. I saw Brian as he quickly gained his spot among the elites. It was amazing how far he had come. As I arrived back at the start line, my entire crew had their white rabbit hats on in honor of me. I felt like a Nascar racer as they quickly loaded me up with everything I could possibly need. I was back on course within just a few minutes. The first 47 miles flew by.

It wasn't very common for me to find myself alone with the looping course as it was, but when I did, I counted it as time with my 'heavenly pacer' the Moose. Boy would he be proud of me. I could hear his voice as clearly now as ever "This is great... this is just great!"

I felt good and lost little speed. I was right on track for a strong finish. Donn joined me at this point and would be with me through most of the night. By the time that he picked me up, the sun was fading and slowly but surely, I was too. Donn was about to see a side of me that he had never seen before. My highs were as high as a kite, my lows were the worst depression I had ever felt in my life. Our time together is a blur. I do remember many hallucinations. I kept seeing Indians and boulders that were not there. I made up songs about how I hated ultrarunning and I hated Donn too. I am lucky that he didn't leave my butt on the trail somewhere!

By mile 62, I was fried. This is a common place that runners drop, but my crew would not have that. As I hobbled into the aid station, I saw some bright neon lights. "Look!" Donn said."Oh good... you see that too," I responded. I heard Erich and my dad's voices. Apparently they had gone to the Dollar Store to pick up glow sticks to try to cheer me up. They were completely covered with them. I couldn't help but smile.I was delirious and in tremendous pain. It was all I could do to get on that next lap. Donn followed me into the darkness and the next aid station just seemed like it was getting farther and farther away. I was behind schedule. By the time that we made it there, I burst out into uncontrollable sobbing. One of the aid station volunteers talked me down from the ledge, gave me some chicken soup and a gel, and soon I felt better again.It wasn't long before I was back on track with my time.

Every once in a while Donn would gently encourage me to run and I would be able to muster one for a little while. I am sure he was happy to give me to Erich to finish up those last 23 miles. Donn was exactly what I needed to help me get through the highs and lows that the night brought with it. Erich was exactly what I needed to start kicking my ass into gear when the sun came up. The gentle and sweet voice of Donn saying 'hey... do you think you can run to that tree down there' turned into drill sergeant Erich telling me to 'pick up the pace... how bad do you want this??' I suddenly understood why Dean was so mad at me during our little jog up Whitney Portal! But it was working. I was speeding up.

I needed to reach mile 92 with 3 hours to spare to comfortably finish the race, although at this point, comfort seemed to be a thing of the past. We were 1/2 mile out from the aid station and I was walking. "When we hit the street, you are going to start running and you are not going to stop," Erich said. I was too tired to argue. We ran into the aid station and I now had 3 hours and 3 minutes to finish the course. Suddenly, it was looking like I might actually pull this off.

The next three hours was the biggest fight of my life. My stomach hurt and my legs were screaming at me. Even walking brought no relief. "This is not a 20 minute mile," Erich barked.

"I KNOW," I snapped back. "I'm sorry, I'm doing the best I can."

He shrugged "Don't apologize to me. You are the one that has to live with yourself." That made me angry enough to pick up the pace. Every once in a while, he would squeeze the back of my neck and tell me I was doing good and that helped too. By the time we reached the next aid station I had 1 hour and 10 minutes to go 3.7 miles. It might as well have been 300. The course was flat and fast and I knew I was capable of it, but the pain was so overwhelming. I broke down my running into the Galloway method of running 4 minutes and walking for 1 although I am fairly certain that Jeff didn't have this in mind when he developed that program. Before I knew it, we were 1 mile away with 30 minutes to spare.

The next 20 minutes was another blur. My dad and Donn met me 1/4 of a mile out and as I crossed the finish line, I broke down into tears and Erich put his arms around me, partially as a hug and partially to support me from hitting the ground. I had used everything that was within me. I sat in a chair and the race director gave me my long coveted Best Female Costume trophy and my belt buckle. It was one of the happiest moments of my life.

Back at the hotel, I briefly toyed with the idea of taking my crew out to dinner, but we ordered pizza instead. Donn headed back to LA while Erich, my dad and I crashed at the hotel. I went to sleep holding my very first belt buckle. My first of many!

This was a perfect race. Jamil, the race director did an amazing job organizing the event and the volunteers definitely went over and above the call of duty, especially when it came to me. My biggest thanks goes to my dad, Donn and Erich who never stopped believing in me even when I was ready to give up on myself. I hope that I have the opportunity to return the favor to each one of them in the future. I learned so much about myself that day and I am so excited for all that is in store for me beyond this point. I can't help but feel that this is just the beginning.

21 Days - San Francisco One Day

I had this crazy dream last night. I dreamed that I drove all the way to San Francisco to run in circles around a field. Catra and her ex boyfriend Andy were there. Brian was there. Hung, the gifted runner I met at Iron Horse and his girlfriend were there. And of course, my die hard running buddy, Donn. We all kept running in circles, going seemingly nowhere for hours upon hours. And then... I didn't wake up.

San Francisco One Day was a very different race than any I have participated in thus far. Donn and I ran the first half together, enjoying the view over and over and over again. We were lapped by the same people over and over and over again. We made the same jokes over and over and over again. It was all I could do not to make a break for the Golden Gate Bridge!

Halfway through the race we set off on our own journeys, experiencing highs and lows and meeting new people along the way. It turned out to be one of the funnest ultrarunning experiences I have had. I was able to run with people that I would not have had the opportunity to run with otherwise.

My 12 hour day ended early at about 11 hours and 30 minutes. I had run over 50 miles at that point and Donn and I both wanted to go get dinner before the restaurants closed. As I sat and enjoyed dinner at an old favorite, A16, I realized how much I had learned during that run. In my ultra life, running in circles was actually a lot of fun. In my personal life, it was officially time for me to make a break for the Golden Gate Bridge.

30 Days - Follow your heart...

It might not actually lead you to where you think. You may end up somewhere better...

"Can I hold the kingsnake?" Kathy looked up wide eyed at Dena, the conservatory worker.

"Sure," said Dena. "Let me get my key to his tank."

It was Sunday morning and Kathy, Jean and I had made our way down to the Bolsa Chica wetlands. After an 8 mile run and some birdwatching, we found ourselves here, learning more about the birds and now, apparently, playing with snakes.

"Cool!" Said Jean, as the beautiful black and white creature began to curl around Kathy's wrist.

I'll be honest, snakes have never really been my 'thing' but I was captivated by the interest that the two of them were showing. Kathy and Jean were both my mom's age and older, but somehow I identified with them better than most of my female friends. They were the type of women that I want to be - strong and independent, good and kind, but would never let themselves be taken advantage of. They delighted in the little things in life which is what brought us here to the Bolsa Chica Conservatory on such a beautiful and inspiring day.


On Monday morning I opted out of my usual bootcamp class for a multitude of reasons. The biggest of these being the wildfires that left a smoke cloud looming over the city. Among it's lesser vices, it brings with it the inability to breathe to those of us that are asthmatic. But on Tuesday morning I was back in class, warming up, when my instructor approached me.

"Do you run on Sundays? asked Nadia.

"I do," I smiled.

"Well, I was thinking about running the LA Marathon..." Within minutes we were plotting her 4:30 finish and what steps it would take to get her there. I had quickly become my bootcamp instructor's marathon personal trainer, with our first long run planned for this Sunday.

I am suddenly starting to see a shift occur in my life. The focus that I have had on men, on finding 'the one' and even training and competing with them is changing to a deeper development of my female friendships. I love the male friendships that I have, but there are strong, fierce women in my life that I am fortunate to know and that I want to know better.

Another one of these women is Catra Corbett. She is one of the toughest women that I know. Her and her ultrarunning boyfriend, Andy, recently broke up as well and I have found comfort in her blog. Her words are better than anything I could write to describe my feeling at the moment, so I will end with those:

"Persevere and direct your energy towards your goals. If you do this and truly believe in what you’re trying to achieve you will be given the power to succeed. Sometimes obstacles should be seen as a test - pass the test and overcome the obstacles and success will be in your grasp. If you are feeling challenged right now examine whether it is due to misunderstandings or perhaps a mistrust. Opportunities will arise to resolve your situations."

39 Days - Mile 73 and beyond...

My good friend and ultrarunning mentor Dmitry told me that if I could manage a 100 mile week about 6 weeks prior to Javelina, it could potentially take my time in the race down by an hour. I have been pounding the trails, pavements and tredmills since Saturday in attempt to make that happen. As of this morning, I am at mile 73, with 1 night and 3 days to go to finish 27 more miles. Seems like not such a great task, huh? But in all honesty, as far as I have made it, my legs are tired, I am mentally spent and I wonder how much longer I can keep up this act. I am starting to think that Dmitry told me to do this for the mental aspect rather than the physical one.

I can't believe that my dream is about to become reality in such little time. At night, when I close my eyes to go to sleep, I can see the hotel room, with my race gear and costume layed out (there is a costume contest associated with Javelina that I intend to win!). I can see the start line, with my dad, Erich and Donn wishing me well. I can see the day turning into night and with it, the promise of Erich following me into the darkness. I can see the sun rising and Donn helping me dig within myself to accomplish something that I never thought I could achieve. It is almost here and I am ready.

40 Days - The Noble Canyon 50k

When lining up for an ultra of any kind, nothing is certain. But one thing that morning was relatively so... I had found a kindred spirit in Erich. I was excited to do this race with him. He was a beginner to this particular world, although hard work and overcoming adversity had been a regular part of his life for quite some time. This is how I knew that ultrarunning was the beginning of something great for him.

The air was crisp and cool as the race director announced the beginning of the run. It would not stay that way for long. The trails took us through a beautiful rocky landscape and desertous terrain. We travelled through areas that Erich had only ever seen from his helicopter, while flying in training with the Marines. A few miles in, we were greeted by my friend, Kirk Fortini. His gentle but strong presence was one that I always looked forward to seeing at these races. We shared a few laughs before he took off into the vast unknown. Erich and I were once again on our own, running from aid station to aid station, avoiding rocks and chasing each other through the desert.

It was days like this one that made me realize how much I truly loved this. There was something so amazing about going off into the middle of seemingly nowhere with the instructions: You have 9 hours to make it 33 miles in that direction. The arrows will lead you. GO!

This was a training run for me, but about 20 miles in, as I saw Erich begin to struggle a bit, I remembered that this was only his 2nd ultra and it definitely had its challenges. The first one he had done was the one where the two of us had met in the first place. Suddenly I found myself part of something bigger than my training, watching someone battle their own demons and push through adversity. There was fun to be had through this as well. The endorphines fueled a less serious side of both of us as we laughed and sang our way through the miles. One thing about these adventures is that they cannot always be retold as they were. I don't think I have ever laughed that hard or had that much fun during an ultra before.

We crossed the finish line with almost 30 minutes to spare. As we drove back to his place in Irvine, we discussed future adventures, including my first 100, Javelina. I have lost some people that were very close to me as of late, in two very different ways. But the world has this amazing way of replacing what is taken away. It was nice to have spent a day running off into nowhere with someone that I connected to in that way. Then it was back to reality once more...

52 Days - Angeles Crest and a Firehouse for the books!

It was September 13th - a day that my friends and I had been waiting for. This was the day of the Angeles Crest 100 miler. I remembered back to the year before when I paced Mike. It was hard for me to keep up with him, even as just a pacer. Today 3 of my friends would take on the brave task of pacing as well.

The 'dream team' as I lovingly referred to us as was made of Donn pacing Fred, Erich and Jean tag teaming Xy and myself once again pacing Mike. It was early afternoon when we got the news that Fred had dropped, however Donn opted to join us anyway and pick up another runner. When I checked online to view Mike and Xys pace, I realized that we should probably gather the team a little early. Donn and Erich were quickly on their way and Jean was already there - hours before her expected time! She was excited to say the least.

We all rode to Shortcut together and chatted excitedly about the adventure to come. When we got there, Donn quickly offered his services and was off with two runners keeping a respectable pace. When I saw him take off, I was mildly concerned, but I knew he would do well. Jean and Erich looked like two kids on Christmas Eve, excitedly watching the runners come through the aid station and disappear into the night. Mike was the next one through and within minutes, we were off. Jean and Erich continued to wait from Xy.

The night held challenges that Mike and I had not experienced yet together as a team. It was a difficult race for him. We would find out later that he was actually on the verge of becoming very sick. Mike is a fighter though and we made it across the finish line with time to spare.

Apparently Xy had to drop at Shortcut, but Erich and Jeans adventures did not end there. Jean picked up another runner who needed help and was able to run with him for about 25 miles before he finally dropped. Erich was sent out into the darkness to find another runner who needed the company. Apparently that runner dropped without Erich's knowledge, but he got a good 18 mile evening run in looking for him. It was a race unlike what the group of us had expected, but that seems to be how these always turn out.

Last Sunday, Jim arranged our Firehouse run, which takes place every 4-6 months or so. We were about 5 miles in when we saw two bikers walking up the trail. One was pushing two bikes and the other was holding his shoulder and hobbling. "Are you ok?" Jim yelled out. The man holding his shoulder stumbled forward and fell down.

It wasn't long before the group of us were struggling with our cell phones, trying to get reception, and talking to 911. Within 10 minutes or so, a helicopter was flying through the mountains, locating our group. The biker, Danny, was lifted off to safety. We headed down Dirt Mulholland and we felt that our run had somehow been useful to others that day as well.

I was tired. Koop had been in town the day before and we had done a 13 mile run through this area. My body was feeling the amount of training I had been doing recently. We let the group go ahead and Jim stayed back with me as I pushed through the tightness in my legs. It was a beautiful, cool day for a run. Fall was coming and with it brought hope and happiness. When we reached the water, we saw a lovely wedding taking place along the coast. Then we saw something even better... the group that had left us earlier was only 1/10 of a mile ahead. "I bet we can catch them!" I told Jim. He smiled "Lets go!"

We passed the group and arrived at Firehouse just after the 'lead' runners Brian, Nader and David. I enjoyed some spinach pancakes and headed back to the valley.

This weekend, I will leave for the OC on Friday night where Erich and I will spend the weekend running the Noble Canyon 50k. It won't be long until I am lining up for my first 100 miler. My crew/pacer team now consists of my dad, Donn and Erich. With a team like that, how could I possibly fail?

66 Days - What Dmitry and I learned at Wasatch...

Dmitry's thoughts....

"Well, I'm beginning to walk like a normal person today. Still a lot of pain mostly in my feet and incredibly tight quads from all that downhill running. Funny, but my mind blocks the memories of the run. I try to recall parts of the run and my feelings at different stages but seem to be unable to do so. Especially the second half of the run. Things that do stand out are our flying descent to Brighton, miserable climb to the pass but looking at that beautiful lake up there, sliding down the other side, the "Grunt" hill, horrible downhill at "The Dive".

I'm not sure if Wasatch is more difficult than Badwater. I think they are two very different races. But I'm going to have to try Badwater one day to find out. But I know one thing - Wasatch is very very difficult, almost unreal. And I was very lucky to have finished it. It was a rare day, when my body and mind clicked well for as long as they did allowing me to run on the second day. All I think about is that if I had relaxed for even a little bit, say not run down to Brighton or not running headlong into Pole Line those 27 min I had until cutoff would have evaporated. I'm very happy that I was able to fight this hard for that long.

THAT was an incredible ultra running experience."

My thoughts...

I learned a lot about myself on Sunday. 39 miles in the Wasatch mountains brought me to my knees. I learned that I am not as strong an ultrarunner as I thought and that I have a long way to go. Things I will take with me from Wasatch:

1) I need to learn how to run downhill hard and fast. It is the only thing that is going to save me in events like that. Being a good hill climber isn't going to do much for me if I do not also possess that skill.

2) I need to learn how to talk less and listen more. There is a lot of knowledge out on those trails that can be mine if only I will shut up once in a while!

3) Falling in love doesn't necessarily have to happen with another person involved. On Sunday, I fell head over heels in love with a course that nearly killed me and I truly can't stop thinking about it and when I will see it again. In return, it will wait for to come back when I am ready. I'm in love with the experience that I had. Love doesn't get any better than that.

68 Days - The Wasatch 100

It was approximately 2:45am on Sunday morning when I was woken by a tapping on my window. It took me a few minutes to realize where I was. I looked outside of my rental car and there was Dmitry's first leg pacer, peering in at me and shining a bright flashlight in my face.

"Summer? It's time..."

I had set my alarm for 3am... Dmitry's new ETA to arrive at Upper Big Water after running an hour and a half late to mile 40. He was apparently a bit early, but still running behind schedule. It was my job to take him from there to the finish line in Midway. I had arrived in Utah that afternoon for this very reason. I bundled up and quickly ran to the aid station, about 1/10 of a mile down the road to begin our long journey.

After Dmitry got some soup and warmed himself by the fire, it was time to get moving. I could tell that he was tired and beat up, but he was no longer relying on his body. His heart and determination had taken over. There would be many ups and downs over the next 40 miles, literally and figuratively and it was my job to make sure that the figurative ones remained as 'up' as possible.

An 'up' had taken over about 10 minutes into what most ultrarunners lovingly refer to as our 'death march.' That usually takes place late into the evening of a 100 miler, where running is impossible, both because of visual purposes as well as the body's scream to the mind to stop and sleep. He recounted to me the past 22 hours and how ridiculously difficult the course had been thus far. We laughed about it and the challenges that were ahead of us. We had 14 hours from this point to cross the finish line in Midway. One would think that was a lot of time.

The climbs were intense. I had never experienced a course this extreme in terms of elevation and technicality. When one challenge was over, another one presented itself, beating us up harder than the one before. Even as a pacer, I knew I was out of my league here. This was an entirely new level of ultra.

"I am not going to make it, am I?" Dmitry kept asking me.

"Yes you are," I would respond confidently, although at this point I didn't even know if I was going to make it.

To finish the race, the preferred time to arrive at the Brighton Aid station at mile 75, is 7am. We arrived there shortly after 8am. I was pleasantly surprised to see my friend Catra awaiting her runner. She was pacing as well. While Dmitry was in the restroom, we began to talk.

"We are going to make it, aren't we?" I could see the doubt in her eyes.

"It's difficult from here. It is better to be here a little earlier. You have some steep climbs ahead." I nodded a thank you.

I quickly led Dmitry out the door as we followed the ski lifts up to our hardest climb of the day. he was definitely having his doubts about finishing, but my job was to believe in him. If I stopped, if a moment of doubt came into my voice, game over. I could sense that this strong, confident fighter was in a rather vulnerable place. After a very long climb of 30 minutes miles into 10,000 feet of elevation, we felt more like rock climbers than runners. Finally it was time for our descent. As we raced down the trails, suddenly one just seemed to come to an end.

"Did we go the wrong way?" Dmitry asked me.

I looked down... "Uh... no..."

Down the side of what looked like a cliff were the flags marking the race course. "You have to be kidding me," Dmitry said, defeated. We both took a breath, sat down on our butts and began to slide down the hill. Before long I was laughing. There was nothing else we could do. He joined me. Finally at the end was a runnable section, Dmitry's forte. He raced through the woods as I struggled to keep up with him. Although it was down, it was still very technical.

Around mile 90, we began to get close to cut offs. As we struggled up another hill, Dmitry stopped and turned around. "Summer, I CANT do this anymore."

"What? You want the helicopter to come get us?" I said jokingly. We were absolutely in the middle of nowhere.

"I HAVE to quit," he said, a little angry. "I just CANT do this."

"Dmitry, there is no shame in timing out. I will have the same respect for you if you push with everything that is within you and still do not cross that finish line as I would if you show up at Midway in under 36 hours. But there is a lot of shame in quitting because that hill just looks too tall. I KNOW you can do this. I'm not giving up on you, please don't give up on yourself."

With that, Dmitry became even more angry, but not with me. He was angry at the course. He didn't want to let it win. Determination filled his eyes as his speed quickened. My legs were shot on the downhills so I told him that when we reached the last few miles to throw down his stuff, I would grab it, leave me behind and push with everything that was in him. That is exactly what he did. Dmitry crossed that finish line in 35:30! After getting lost, I showed up about 30 minutes later. He was beaming. I could see tears in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around me.

"Thank you so much!"

I smiled. "No, thank you for letting me be a part of this. I KNEW you could do it!"

We stayed for the ceremony and celebrated with a big Olive Garden dinner. I was on the first flight back this morning. I made sure to get a window seat so that I could say goodbye to my mountains and let them know that I would be back one day, when I was ready to take on the Wasatch 100 myself.

85 Days - The Day the Eath Stood Still

I was exiting on Santa Monica Blvd, headed towards the hospital when my cell phone rang. It was Jean.

"This is the call isn't it?"

"Yes," she said. My heart sank. I fought back tears as I helped her make the rest of the phone calls.

It hasn't seemed quite right to write about the loss of Craig until now. It was devistating. This is the first time I have lost someone so close to me. It was truly the day that the earth stood still in my life.

Time with friends healed many wounds. The day of the Memorial service, I sat down by his grave and cried and cried. It wasn't long before I was joined by Jim and the rest of the crew.

The Moose came with me the following Saturday for a beautiful run through the San Gabriel Mountains - The Mt. Disappointment 50 miler. This time I not only finished with time to spare, I met a new friend, Erich. My mom flew out to join the festivities as well and her and Ko made up a fabulous crew for me. I felt the presence of the Moose pushing me along as I finally reached a year long goal.

I miss him so much. Every day I think about him. But I know he is watching over us. I am sure he will be hanging out with us this weekend and the Bulldog 50k as well! See ya then, Moosie...

94 Days - Losing The Moose

Link w/photo:
http://www.latimes.com/sports/columnists/la-sp-streeter13-2008aug13,0,7405712.column
Local runner Craig Chambers made path better for others. Shoe store owner
Craig Chambers, a source of encouragement and knowledge in the running
community, died of melanoma last week.
Kurt Streeter

August 13, 2008
He fooled me. Or maybe I fooled myself because I did not want fate to unfold
as it did.

I had thought that somehow, despite the disease that first appeared as two
small dots on his scalp, the sheer force of his lively spirit would see
Craig Chambers through.

I had hoped that Chambers, 59, who first appeared in this space in March
after he walked the Los Angeles Marathon, would find a way to run right past
cancer and keep going, just as he had done while jogging on what seemed like
every fire trail on every low mountain in Southern California.

I had prayed that he would be a walking miracle, and that I would one day
write of his comeback.

Sometimes, prayers are not answered. That happened here. Last Thursday,
surrounded by family and loved ones at a Santa Monica hospital, Craig
Chambers died.

You may recall that six months ago, Chambers allowed me to tag along while
he made his way through the flat, hot course. He had run in every single
L.A. Marathon, 22 in all, finishing each without trouble.

This year, however, suffering from Stage IV melanoma, he could only walk.
Chambers, who stood 6 feet, had piercing blue eyes and pale skin, was well
aware of the odds. Aware that this would likely be the last time he would
wind his way through the streets of Los Angeles, the city whose every corner
he seemed to embrace.

For 26.2 miles that fine March day, we talked about shared interests:
architecture, philosophy, politics, art, urban life and, of course, sports.
He was an athlete, and an intellectual. His talk of Obama and Dostoevsky and
bird watching helped me focus on something other than the fact that my quads
were cramping and I walked, better yet, hobbled, in his shadow.

Chambers did not appear to like speaking about himself. He simply did not
regard himself as someone to make a fuss over. This much I did glean: He had
grown up Pacific Palisades. He had gone to UC Santa Cruz in the 1960s, had
learned to see the world with open eyes there, and had started running
during the jogging craze of the '70s.

He said he had already outlived the doctor's timelines for his longevity. I
gathered that he thought the melanoma was something he could end up
conquering. If not, he wanted to hold the cancer back as long as possible
because there was still so much life to live, so many topics to discuss,
books to read and friends to encourage. "You can do this," I heard him say,
repeatedly, to struggling runners that day. "Just take things slowly."
He spoke from experience. His feats are the stuff of legend. He ran more
than 200 marathons and ultramarathons, all over the world. Once he ran 200
miles through Death Valley, followed that with a 10-mile swim, and then
followed the swim with a 100-mile bike ride.

Along with his college roommate, Charlie Hoover, Chambers since 1980 had
operated Phidippides, an Encino running shoe store. For five years during
the '80s -- after he had given up his car, just to see what it would be like
-- he ran 13 miles from his Santa Monica home to the shoe store in the
morning, and then ran from work back to home every night.

Why did he stop? Kathy Kusner, his life partner since 1983, explained with a
quote that is a window into how he approached life: "Well, I was telling him
how great cars were, that a car was a good thing to have in L.A. Finally,
the time came when he said, 'Enough already, I've done this for five years,
running 26 miles to and from work each day. That was fun, now let's move on.' "
I kept tabs on Chambers over the months. I heard about how he kept walking,
sometimes with his old running group. There were times when he fell to the
pavement. Always, he got back up, vowing to continue, a smile on his face.
The cancer kept coursing through his body. Already, he had endured months of
hard chemotherapy, undergone a brain operation, and surgeries to remove part
of a lung, part of a liver, part of his lymph nodes. Now he was injecting
himself daily with Interferon.

Still, in June, when he and Kusner met me for dinner at an Indian restaurant
in Culver City, he was positive, even somewhat excited. Scans had shown the
cancer was slowing. There was the possibility he could be part of new drug
trials. He gave a quick update, smiling. Then he wanted to know about my
trips to Asia, about my wife and her east-Indian roots, about what was going
on at The Times.

Never did I hear him speak too long about himself. Never did I hear him
complain.

"It wasn't 'Why me, why poor me?' " Kusner would say. "It was more like,
'Let's keep trying, I'm not doing that badly. I can go on.' He kept an
unbroken streak for not complaining, right until the end."

Three weeks ago, we ate dinner once more, this time at the Playa Vista
apartment he shared with Kusner. He was so weak he could barely stand. He
had lost 30 pounds. His voice was a halting whisper. He asked me to read him
a soon-to-be-published column. Sick as he was, when I told him the piece
worried me, that I was not sure it was any good, he looked at me and smiled
and said nothing but positive things.

It was time to go. I helped him to his feet and hugged him, knowing this
might be the last hug, hoping and praying it would not.

Keep going, he told me. Just keep going.

Craig Chambers, I will, and so, surely, will your friends and family. In
your example, in the graceful, powerful way you lived and died, we learned much.

Thank you.
------
A funeral service for Craig Chambers, open to the public, will be today at 3
p.m. at Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Glendale, 1712 S. Glendale Ave. A
memorial, also open to the public, will be at Temescal Gateway Park's
Stewart Hall on Aug. 24 at 2 p.m.
Kurt Streeter can be reached at kurt.streeter@latimes.com.

102 Days - What counts in a battle is what you do once the pain sets in

Eight years ago, when I took my road trip from Atlanta to LA, I was looking for some kind of sign that I was supposed to stay here. I had a fresh lotus flower tattoo on my back and as we drove through Hollywood, suddenly I saw a huge lotus festival going on. I knew I was home.

Sometimes I think the world sends you signs to let you know if you are on or off track. Last Thursday night, I met Bob, Donn, Jim and Ko for dinner in Westlake Village and followed it up with Dean's movie '50 Marathons/50 States/50 Days.' It was my own words that stood out to me that night. My own face lit up the big screen and I saw my own eyes filling with joy like I had never known after completing a marathon with my hero Dean Karnazes. "Sometimes the most difficult things in life are also the most worth having." It was the past me reminding me of something that I needed to hear in that moment.

Saturday, I met up with Jean and Kathy for a 'Moose walk.' Craig was late because he had a bloody nose. I excitedly walked up to the apartment to see my good friend again. It had been too long.

The Moose sat quietly on the bed, wiping blood from his nose and barely able to lift himself up to the walker. It was not the body of the Moose that I had once known, but it was still the Moose - happy, cheerful. We walked for about 10 minutes before he had to go back to bed. I sat in his room with him and we shared stories of our runs. "Okay," I said, "I want the master list... what are the great races that I should do in my lifetime?"

"Great Wall of China... Comrades...." his voice trailed off before he fell back asleep once again. Jean, Kathy and I went for a run in a park down the road as the Moose slept.

"Is he still on chemo?" asked Jean.

"No," said Froggie. "Just pain pills."

Neither of us dared to ask anymore. Suddenly life had been put into perspective.

"How are you doing, Summer?" asked the Frog. I couldn't believe that she was asking me how I was doing, when I knew that what I was going through paled in comparison to her pain that she never showed. But it was a good change of topic.

"I'm ok... wondering if I should be in LA at the moment."

"WHY???" Said Jean. "Don't you love it here?"

"I do," I said. "But this environment isn't very conducive to being in a long term relationship. Everything is temporary. People say 'I'm in this job FOR NOW. I'm in this relationship FOR NOW.' I am just wondering if I am going to find what I am looking for here. I need a sign."

"Summer," said Froggie. "I don't mean to interrupt, but have you seen these beautiful lotus flowers?" She pointed down to a pond that we were running towards. In front of the pond, a wedding photographer was taking pictures of a happy couple. I smiled and showed Froggie my tattoo. She smiled back. "Need a bigger sign than that?"

On Sunday, we all met up once again for a run through dirt Mulholland. Jean and I headed back a little early since she had to work and I was tapering for Mt. Disappointment next weekend. We opted for some breakfast at More Than Waffles before beginning our day. She told me a the story of how she found out that her husband of 18 years was gay. "Never give up Summer and don't stop looking. Don't give up a town that you love for something you may or may not find somewhere else. You CAN have everything."

I went back to the apartment that afternoon, the one that Brian and I still share. I took a deep breath, walked back into my room and opened the first book that I would need to study for my personal trainer certification. It is time to make that step in my life now too. Maybe Jean is right. Maybe I can have everything I want.

110 Days - Sometimes, when one person is missing, the whole world seems depopulated.

It is true what they say... you really do not know what you have until it is gone.

The weather could not have been more perfect as Ko, Jean, Kathy and I scampered up the hills of Griffith Park to begin our 17 mile journey on Sunday. We ran through the Greek theater and the Observatory. We played with the idea of climbing the Hollywood sign, but settled for a close view behind the fence. As Jean lead us back, we followed her like lemmings, getting lost along the way. We decided to hit a little diner called Eats after our run and Donn met us there. But there was a presence missing at the finish line of our pretend race. The presence that over the last year and a half of my life has made the sun brighter, the grass greener and, well, the food better (no offense to Eats).

I layed in bed that night staring at the ceiling, pretending it was the one in my own bedroom. I imagined the cool breeze that flowed in through the window above me and the warmth next to me, always letting me know I wasn't alone in this world. I felt safe then. But that night I was alone again, cold, tired, sleepless. I wanted my home, but I had to begin to come to terms with the fact that the little apartment in Burbank, the one that I loved so much and felt so safe in was no longer that place.

The next morning, my alarm woke me at 5:30am, I took a deep breath and walked out the door. I pulled into bootcamp class 5 minutes before the 6:30am class started.

"Any chance of switching from the early class to the 6:30am - 7:30am class this week?" I asked the girl at the front desk.

"Shouldn't be a problem." she smiled.

I jumped on the treadmill and kicked up my jogging speed from 7 to 8 to 9. I ran till I couldn't feel anything anymore.

112 Days - Arrows Pointing Out

I am at mile 40 of a 50 miler right now. It's one of those tough, Mt Disappointment type races and I am in so much pain that I can hardly put one foot in front of the other. I want to quit. But because I have been here before I can see this for what it is. I know that mile 50, although it seems so far away, it really isn't at all and at the end of this race lies clarity and happiness.

As the Goats gathered this morning for an early morning run, friends excitedly asked about Brian's 100 mile race. They asked where he was. I took a deep breath. "Guys, there's something I need to tell you."

Jim and Kathy huddled around as I explained what I would also tell Bob and Ko when I met them on the trail a little later. "Brian and I are no longer together. But please do not take sides. You should know that neither of us did anything wrong like cheat on each other or intentionally hurt the other, it just simply did not work out. Please do not stop inviting both of us to all the running activities that you do together. This is our issue, not yours and if we do not want to see each other, we will work it out amongst ourselves."

The group was fairly silent, some of them expressing their condolences. I thanked them and opted to remain vague about the details out of respect to Brian. Kathy and I ran together as she smiled and told me about all these great single runner guys she knows. I laughed. "Too soon, Kathy."

"But I will throw your name out there," she said. Then her tone changed. "Your arrows point out, Summer. You need someone whose arrows do the same."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"There are two types of people," she said. "Those whose arrows point in and those whose arrows point out. Those that point in are concerned about bettering themselves and always being the best. 99% of the time they will fail. They don't take time to enjoy the journey, they are concerned about the destination. There is nothing wrong with these people. They just are who they are.

"When I was in the Olympics," She continued, "People took themselves so seriously. They never enjoyed the excitement of the day, they only wanted to win. But I promised myself that no matter what, I would not let them take that experience away from me. I would enjoy it for all it was worth.

"Your arrows point out. You enjoy ever hill climb, every wildflower. You stop to run with slow old frogs like me. You get your kicks from helping others achieve their personal goals. You need someone whose arrows point out like yours. A hot, wonderful creature like you."

"That is sweet of you to say," I said.

"Not sweet," said Kathy, "It's science!"

I laughed as we continued on. Kathy gave me the strength to make it just a few more miles through this. Pretty soon I will be to that 50 mile mark and I will be ok.

115 Days - The Vermont 100

Hey Everyone,

I want to say thank you to my mom, dad and Summer for being there to help me there my first 100 mile race as there were some highs, lows and everything in between. My goals for this race was to complete the race in 24 hours, run until mile 75, and enjoy the views; all of which I was able to accomplish.

Below is a link to the photos that my family took of the Vermont 100 mile race on Saturday and Sunday so enjoy. The scenery in Vermont was absolutely beautiful and the weather made for some interesting times. Around mile 65 or so it started to thunder, lighting and rain and the hill climbs in the woods became an adventure as each step seemed to get buried deeper and deeper in mud. The winds did get pretty strong at times and at the finish line where some people where camping out there tents and all their belongings in their tent were blown into the pond or river as they were out on the course.

As far as the race went there were a few different races going on at the same time. They had a 50, 75 and 100 mile horse and a 100k, 100 mile and the Krogmann why don’t you miss the turn at the last aid station and run 105 miles foot races. I signed up for the 100 mile option but for some reason at mile 98 I decided to take a wrong turn and ran all the way to the finish line only to find out that the way I came was wrong and had to run back to where I went off course and finish from there. My unofficial time for the first finish (which was approx 101 miles) was 19:33 and after a long delay of trying to figure out where I needed to head back my official time was 20:32:13 and finish in 18th place out of 255 starters. While I am a little disappointed that my time did not stand at 19:33 it was the right thing to do and finish on the correct trail.

Highs and lows of the race:

Passing Michelle Barton around mile 30 going up a hill. At that point I realized my pace was probably too quick but what can you do

Running on the trail next to all the horses competing in the horse race

Not understanding why Summer and my mom were looking at me funny when asked what I wanted at the next aid station – I wanted a peanut butter and turkey sandwich and they thought that I want a pb sandwich and a turkey sandwich. Could not understand why they did not find that sandwich appealing. Although the next day when asked if I wanted the rest of the sandwich it went straight into the trash can

Coming into the aid station at mile 70 and wanted a bottle of watered down ensure and ice and not being able to think of the word ensure for a good 5 minutes. I think I called it everything but Ensure and it was frustrating that no one understood what I wanted. Even though when I saw them at mile 47 I wanted them to throw the Ensure away b/c it was so disgusting to drink.

Completing over 100 miles in around 24 hours for my first belt buckle!

I really do not remember much of the race but I hope that you enjoy the photos and they are in order of the aid stations so you can see how I was progressively getting worse and maybe Summer can fill in some of the details as she might remember the race a little better.

bk

124 Days - Badwater

At 6:45am on Monday morning, July 14, 2008, the alarm on my watch went off signaling the start of the longest, most exciting day I have ever known. I had been awake for about an hour. My heart was racing. Would I be a good crew member? Could I keep up with Dean while I was pacing him? Too late to worry about any of that now.

I was to meet the rest of the gang at breakfast at 8am. I opted to walk over to the steak house where the pre race meal was being provided a little early so that I could watch the other runners. Crews loaded their vehicles and athletes smiled wide and nervously as they readied themselves for the intense physical challenge that awaited. I watched as Pam Reed and her crew entered the restaurant for breakfast. She looked calm and ready.

Koop, Mike and Morgan showed up just a little after 8am. Dean was mentally preparing, alone in the hotel room. We took a seat near Pam who was curiously smearing jelly on exactly half of her piece of toast. A pre race routine maybe?

At 9am, it was time to leave for Badwater. Dean loaded into the van with us a few minutes late. He looked focused but excited. He cued up his Ipod and away we went, 17 miles to nowhere. Other runners had begun their races in 6am and 8am waves so as we drove, we could see them as they ran towards Furnace Creek. We cheered and they excitedly cheered back when they saw whose name was on the side of out van.

Morgan tapped Dean on the shoulder. "While you are coherent." he said, "I just want to thank you for this opportunity. It is such an honor."

"You guys need to stop thanking me," said Dean bashfully. "It is I who should be thanking you."

As we continued our drive, I zoned out, happily breathing in the music, the sights of the other runners on the road, reminding myself how lucky I was. A dream I didn't even know that I had was coming true.

At the start line, talented runners fought through the pack to shake hands with Dean and take a pre race photo. It wasn't long before these amazing athletes were being herded to the start line. I looked around and saw a sign that read 280 feet below sea level. It truly looked as if we were at the bottom of an ocean - absolutely breathtaking!

The race began. I set my stopwatch. Funny to think that it would be more than a day before I pressed that button again. The runners spread out pretty quickly. Jorge Pacheco started out fast as he always does, but it wasn't long before Akos Konyas and David Goggins were running directly behind him. Dean was maybe a 10th of a mile back. For the first 17 miles, we were only allowed one vehicle and could not pace him. The beginning of our monotonous but strangely fun routine began - drive 1/2 - 1 mile ahead, load up water bottles, load up a pitcher of ice and water, run across the street, ask Dean what else he needed, run back to the van and run out to him whatever strange thing he decided he needed at that moment, and repeat. There was no break in this and a constant sense of urgency surrounded us.

At mile 6, Dean decided to push ahead of the pack, maybe a 10th of a mile in front of the other 3. We all exchanged nervous glances. "Is this a good thing or a bad thing?" I asked.

"Not sure yet," Said Koop.

He was the next one out to bring Dean water. "These guys are moving really fast," said Dean.

"Maybe you should slow down," said Koop. "It's a long way to Lone Pine." Dean nodded as he let the other runners move ahead once more.

At Furnace Creek, Koop laced up his running shoes for the first round of pacing. Mike picked up the second vehicle as Morgan and I rode in the first one, continuing to crew. The other vehicle just followed us and Mike would get out to help as needed.

About 5 miles down the road from there, we saw David Goggins, a favorite to win, laying down in the back of the crew vehicle. We never saw him again.

Dean and Koop ran fast as I nervously awaited my pacer duties. I would pick him up at Stovepipe. I told the guys that I didn't know how long I would last at his pace. I hopped out of the van when we arrived as Mike drove into town to get gas and popsicles. My heart was pounding. Was a really pacing Dean Karnazes at Badwater? Well, not for long! His pace was strong so I only lasted about 5 miles which we completed in 40 minutes. I let Morgan take over so that I did not become a liability.

The hours flew by. I never wanted this race to end. It was an ultrarunner's heaven.

"Summer, do you have a good moisturizer?" Dean asked at one of our stops.

"I have my Mary Kay sunscreen with moisturizer," I said.

"That sounds great!" The guys snickered as I dug into one of my bags and pulled out both the sunscreen and lip balm. The lip balm was quickly renamed 'lip gu' and needed about every other stop from that point out.

As the sun began to set, the sky opened up as a welcomed rainstorm showered over us. A beautiful rainbow spread across the twilight and through mild exhaustion, smiles were impossible to hide. "Dean, go get us that pot of gold," I said. "It's right there."

The race director pulled up beside our van as we waited for Dean. "There has been a course change," he said. Crew vehicles will not be able to make it into Lone Pine due to a 15 foot hole so you will all be going out to Panamint, turning around and finishing the 135 miles out from there." My heart dropped. No Mt. Whitney?

We opted not to tell Dean because we didn't want to throw him off, but sure enough, another runner that we passed from the earlier group decided to share this information. Needless to say, Dean was hardly thrown off. He was having an amazing race.

A few hours later, we were given word that the original course was back in play and again, another runner shared this news with Dean. "Why doesn't anyone tell me anything??" said Dean. We laughed.

It wasn't long before Dean finally started to get hungry. I was on 'kitchen duty."

"What can I get for you, Dean?" I said smiling.

"Cheese and crackers!" he said.

As we drove to the next stop, I carefully layed triscuits out across my legs, cut the cheese and made him his snack. We stopped and I ran them out.

"Nah..." he said. "How about peanut butter and crackers!"

Back at the van, I dug up some peanut butter, spread it on the crackers as we drove, then ran them back out. I handed them to Dean.

"No thank you," he said. "Unless you have jelly. Do you have jelly?"

"I don't think so," I said.

"But we have honey," said Koop.

"Oooo.... honey. Yes, that's perfect!"

Morgan, while still pacing looked at me and started laughing. He happily took from me anything Dean didn't want. "Welcome to crewing Dean and his night eating habits!" said Mike.

I fixed the crackers for him as we drove, honey dripped all over my hands and legs as I attempted to quickly prepare them. I ran them out once more.

"They look dry," said Dean. "Oooo... how about pudding with peanut brittle!"

Mike laughed hysterically and Koop was nice enough to grab the pudding this time and put me out of my misery!

The night was long but the desert was beautiful. Mike took over pacing after the sun went down completely. We saw snakes and scorpions but the most breathtaking sight was the flashing lights in the distance of other crews helping their runners across the vast landscape.

At 5am, Dean grew tired and opted for a 5 minute nap. It was a much needed rest for me as well. I sat on the back of the van watching my watch so I knew when to wake him. Suddenly I heard footsteps approaching. "Hello,' a female voice spoke from the darkness. It was Pam Reed.

"Hi!" I smiled, a little flustered. "Good morning!"

I was so excited to see her that reality did not set in - she was passing Dean, putting him in 4th place. I woke him shortly thereafter and he resumed his running, slightly more energized.

The sun began to rise and we could see Mt. Whitney in the distance. "See that switchback?" said Mike. "That's where we are headed." Koop took over pacing in the morning. Morgan and I were riding in the 2nd van as we saw Dean catch Pam at almost exactly mile 100. His pace quickened.

"No rivalry between Dean and Pam my ass!" I laughed. "This is awesome!"

They leap frogged each other until Dean took the lead. But there were other battles to fight. Jamie Donaldson, a women's favorite, was catching up quickly. Coming in to Lone Pine, she was running sub 8 minute miles and eventually passed us.

"McDonalds!!" I heard Dean shout in the distance.

"Uh... did you want McDonalds?" said Koop as he approached.

"Oh yes!" he said. "A milkshake and 2 apple pies!"

"Do you think you can pace Dean up Mt Whitney?" asked Mike. "Just for a little while, like you did before?"

I smiled. "I will do it or die trying."

"He is going to want to walk this but you can't let him. Push him. He is very close to a PR."

I nodded as I geared up. The past two months of training and ever the past few years of ultrarunning had lead me to this moment. I hopped out of the van.

"You have me for a while, is that ok?" I smiled.

"Oh yes!" said Dean. "Man, I am really beat."

We walked for a bit before I glanced behind us and saw Pam Reed, not far behind. Koop handed him his milkshake and pies which he took down quicker than I saw him unwrap!

"Okay." I said. "Ready to run?"

"I can't run this," said Dean.

"Just to that white car... see that up there?" He nodded. "Then I will pour both water bottles over your head."

And that's how we did it. One land mark after another, up Mt. Whitney, together.

"Mike, she's making me run!" Dean complained.

"Dean, cancel your manicure, grow a mustache, and get your ass up that hill!!" said Mike.

I didn't leave him, I didn't ask for someone else to replace me. Although it was one of the hardest thing I have ever done physically, I paced Dean 13 miles up Whitney Portal Road, and he ended the race with a PR of 27:11, beating Pam Reed who also PRed!

Tears streamed down my face as all of the crew members and Dean held hands as we crossed the finish line together. I was forever changed.

"Just one thing I want to know." Mike said to Dean over pizza in to Lone Pine. "You gonna become a Mary Kay rep after this?" We all laughed.

I saw Larry on my way out of town the next morning and we shared stories of the race. "He's a little disappointed," I said of Dean. "But he is still very cheerful."

"Did he really think he could beat Jorge?" asked Larry.

I shrugged, "You have to give yourself permission to be great, right?" I said quoting him. He smiled.

Driving out of town was bittersweet. One adventure down, but I was off to Vermont!

125 Days - The Eve of Badwater

I am writing this on hotel stationary because I do not want to forget a moment of this day.  Today has been the best day of my life.  Tomorrow promises to somehow be even better.  I am in a hotel in Furnace Creek, 17 miles from the start line of the infamous Badwater Ultramarathon.

Last night was a nearly sleepless night for me.  It felt as if Christmas was coming for the very first time and I was 5 years old again.  I woke up before my alarm and headed out the door at 6am for my drive to Lone Pine.  It was there that I met Mike and Larry who were kind enough to drive me to the Visitor's Center to meet Dean.  Mike was vibrant, full of life and excitedly shared stories from his running history.  He was from Boston and flew in just to crew his friend.  Larry was quieter, but the words that he spoke were wise ones.  I would learn how truly wise as the day progressed.

When we arrived at the Visitor's Center, I was still 2 hours ahead of Dean.  I found Ko immediately and we shared giddy hugs and laughter.  He looked like a 5 year old too.  This was an adventure unlike any the two of us had ever known.

As I waited for Dean, I sat and talked to Larry.  We exchanged stories of Moosie and Froggie and I told him about Brian.  Just then, Jorge Pacheco, an amazing Southern California ultrarunner walked up.  Larry knew him and introduced us.

"I know who you are," I smiled.  "On any given out and back 50 miler, you are usually passing me from the other direction when I am at mile 10!"

"And then you pass me!"  he said with his thick Mexican accent.  It was nice to know how humble he was.  He went to check in after that.

I told Larry how Brian would joke about never entering a race that Jorge was in simply because he automatically knew that winning was off the table.  Larry shook his head.  "Then he will never beat Jorge."

"Oh it's just a joke,"  I said.

"Doesn't matter,"  said Larry.  "You have to give yourself permission to be great."

Those words stuck with me for the rest of the day.  When Larry left me, I went inside to check in and wait for Dean.  Two minutes late, he walked in through the exit.

"Dean!"  I said, "You are late... they aren't going to let you run!"

He laughed.  "Summer!  Great to see you!"  He hugged me and introduced me to the rest of the group consisting of Koop and Mike who were both Carmichael coaches and Morgan who has every job under the sun and is an athlete coached by Carmichael.  They were all young... late 20s to 30s, all in great shape, all easy going but driven.  Everything you could possibly want in a crew.

After Dean signed a few autographs and got his picture taken with some fans, we went back to the hotel room to get changed to go swimming.  Dean knew of a great private resort down the road.  As we snuck through some bushes and down a steep, rocky incline, I had my suspicions, but I was having too much fun to state the obvious.  I jumped into the pool along with the other guys, but Dean opted to sit in the sun.  "I just want to get used to it."  he said.

I laughed.  "Too late for cramming now, Dean!"

It wasn't long before a security guard found the 5 of us in our little desert oasis an proceeded to kick us out.  But it was just in time for the race briefing.  We headed back over to the Visitor's Center.

The Badwater video that they showed us brought tears to my eyes.  As I sat on the floor sandwiched into a small space between Dean and the rest of the crew, I had to pinch myself.  Was this really happening?

After dinner with Koop, Morgan and Mike, I headed back to the hotel room to open my 'Christmas presents,' which consisted of all the new gear a runner could possibly want!  How am I supposed to sleep with tomorrow so near?

128 Days - 3 Days till I crew Dean Karnazes at Badwater

Over the past few months, my ultrarunning adventures have taken on a life of their own, and brought me along for an amazing ride. They are stories that I should have kept up with, but unfornately the business of life made me choose between writing and running and running had to win. Here are some of the adventures that I missed sharing:

Western States Training Camp - Memorial Day weekend, Brian and I packed our bags and headed up to Auburn for the 3 day training camp. As we loaded the busses, I was able to meet Dmitry for the first time, the man that I intended to pace. I was relieved to see that he was 'normal,' very nice, and a friend of my good friend Xy Weiss. I rode the bus over with Brian, Donn and Mike Palmer, who paced me at American River. We took an hour long drive to the beginning of our longest of the three days of running. As we exited the busses, rain poured down on us, that quickly changed into hail. Brian quickly made it to the front of the pack - the mentality being that the quicker he could run, the quicker he could be out of the conditions. I trudged along at my slower pace with Donn and Xy. We laughed and told stories, jumping over mud puddles as we made our way up the first climb at Michigan Bluff, notoriously one of the most difficult climbs in the race.

As we continued to climb, I looked down at both my hands and my knees and they were swollen and red, painful to the touch. It slowed me to a walk. I told Donn and Xy to go ahead, but they would not leave me. They are good friends. They helped me to the top of the hill where I officially DNFed the first training run. It was heartbreaking, but I realized that I could no longer pretend that my arthritis was not a factor and that I would have to start figuring out a way around it in events like this.

The 2nd day I was still in some pain, so I opted out of the run, but the 3rd day I was back out there. It was absolutely gorgeous. I ran with Donn, skinned my knee, raced up and down the rolling hills. It was a perfect running day. I left sad that I was unable to run all 3 days, but having met some amazing people and all in all, it was a wonderful weekend!

The Salvation Army 5k/10k and The Holcomb Valley 33 Mile Run - This was the weekend prior to my 31st birthday and it was a perfect running weekend! I met most of my Goat friends at the start line of the Salvation Army 5k and 10k. The majority of the group was running both events. I started the 5k with Froggie, Jean and Tara, but I pushed ahead after the first mile. I ran with all my heart, finishing 16th overall, just in time to line up for the 10k. I decided just to enjoy that run, and ran with Jim. We had an incredible time!

The next morning, Brian, Donn and I got up at the crack of dawn to head for Big Bear for teh Holcomb Valley 33 Mile Run. It was a gorgeous race that would take your breathe away, quite literally! We started at about 9500 feet of elevation and climbed to about 1100 feet. Donn and I took it slow and enjoyed the beautiful course. Along the path, we even saw a few llamas! Brian made great time, as always. We rode back to LA tired, a little sore, but very happy.


On Sunday, I leave for Badwater for the experience of a lifetime! I truly feel as if I won a contest. I was also able to get some time off from work to head out to Vermont for Brian's first 100 mile run next weekend. All in all, next week seems to be shaping out to be a PERFECT ultrarunning week! Stories to come...

129 Days - Brian WINS his first (of many) marathon!

Brian's race report of the Run with the Devil Marathon:

Here is the link for the few photos that there were from the race – (BK bib # 592 and SW bib #593)
http://www.backprint.com/view_event.asp?PID=bp%18%7EA&EVENTID=38354

First of all congrats to SW for surpassing her goal of 7 hours and finishing and taking first in her age group; very well done! I could not have been out in that heat any longer then I necessary.

When we got word that WS 100 was canceled I had to find another solution as taking a weekend off is just not in my vocabulary. So I sent SW an email about this race somewhat hoping that her reply would be NO because I did not really want to be out in 110 degree heat, but I should have known what her response would have been and so we signed up. We drove up to Nevada Friday night for=2 0our 10 am start time on Saturday morning. Since I do not sleep in I was up around 6 am and went outside and thought to myself it is hot, but not that hot right now – then I realized I was in the shade. That is when I knew what I was in store for.

Right before the marathon started there were a few interesting comments made that were pretty amusing at the time

A 17 y/o was running his first marathon and before this had only completed 10 miles as his longest run. He said that he could run 10 miles at a 6 min pace and if he could get that up over the course of the marathon he would be in good shape. I remember those days and by mile 3 he was done, but to his credit he did make it to mile 15; which was his longest run to date.
The course in its second year was now certified as a Boston qualifier – I blew that one off and had a good laugh because that was not going to happen
If you think you will take it slow going out and negative split the course on the way in do not even think about it. On the way in it is even hotter and the hills are tougher. Blew that one off too, but to my surprise went out in 1:53 and came in 1:51 so I guess you can negative split the course

Anyway, the goals for this race were pretty simple

Survive
Break 5 hours – based on prior year times that would put me in the top 5 and what be a great result
Hit the turn around before Noon – 2 hour ½ marathon
Hydrate
Survive

As the race got started 3 guys took off, including the 17 y/o, and by the first mile I was in 4th place leading a group behind me and by the 3rd mile I was in 3rd place as I based the 17 y/o. Gave him a few encouraging words and offered his some water and off I went. As I was climbing to the aid station at 11.5, I saw another runner coming back in the opposite direction and he looked strong and assumed that he was the leader of the marathon. I figured I would not catch him but if I maintained the pace I was on a 3rd place finish was a sure thing. As I approached the half way point I saw another runner heading my way and he was looking like the devil got him and figured in time I would catch him on one of the hills (still thinking I was in 3rd place at this point). As I entered the 13.1 mile aid station there was another runner that was done for and at this point I had no idea what place I was in (3rd or 4th…). As I left and made the turn to head home the heat started to hit and the dry winds were blowing right towards us. Nothing like hot dry air being blown in your face! Fast forward to mile 17.5 is when I caught the guy from the turnaround and we approached the 18.1 mile aid station together. I asked the volunteers how the leader looked and they said he was running the 50 miler. So I kindly asked “Who is leading the marathon” and his reply “You” and I said ”Oh, I better get going”. I do not know if I will ever hear those words again but that was pretty cool to hear. The last 8 miles of the race was difficult as it was getting hotter and the hills seemed to be getting steeper and longer, but this time I was able to push through the mental block that I usually get around 20 or so miles and finish strong. By mile 23 my feet were on fire and I did everything I could to keep my core temp down; which included splashing myself with water and watered down electrolyte drinks from my bottles. Every time I wanted to slow down during those last 6 miles and walk an uphill I thought to myself if I slow down that means I will be out in this heat even longer and since I did not want that I kept moving and figured that I would deal with the pain in the comfort of my cool hotel room. When I crossed that finish line and heard I won it did not sink in and only until last night when the results were finally posted did I believe that I truly won the event.

It was a strange feeling being out there by myself and in the lead, usually on the trails at this point I am on my own, but with plenty of people in front of me to try and catch. So for one day I get to say that I won and that I have a course record; which will probably fall next year, but for now it is mine. For the runners in this email, so I guess everyone but my family, this is a great race and the RD, Joyce, has a few other races she puts on each year and not all of them take place in the heat. Check out her website http://calicoracing.squarespace.com for some of the other races as I imagine they would not disappoint.

Pretty boring story, but hey I work with numbers all day and I am not very creative; maybe sw can give a more imaginative recap of the race.

bk

176 Days - Brett Bauer Update

Hello Wendell and Sarah,

I would like to extend my sincerest gratitude to the official rescue personnel and especially to all my fellow trail runners who unselfishly put their own interests aside to aid a fellow trail runner in need. I will forever remember the pure generosity and sportsmanship demonstrated. The whole experience was humbling and solidified my love and respect for the sport. I would love to update you on my current situation. As you know, I suffered from heat exhaustion and was taken to Los Robles Hospital and Medical Center in Thousand Oaks via helicopter. In route I was given oxygen and an IV for rehydration (3 bags total). Ice packs were placed on my body in an attempt to lower my core body temperature. After spending the afternoon in the hospital re hydrating, I was released with a clean bill of health. According to the Doctor, had I not made the decision to stop running or fellow trail runners not aided me in my time of need, I could have had heat stroke which can lead to permanent brain damage. I will continue my running endeavors on June 1st as I will be running the Rock 'n' Roll Marathon in San Diego. I have attached two pictures, a before and after. Enjoy and see you on the trails!

Enthusiastically,

Brett Bauer

178 Days - The Sycamore Canyon 50k

I can honestly say that I have never entered a race that has turned out exactly as I thought it would be. Generally it is not even close to my expectations.

My weekend began with a Saturday trail run with Jim and the Goats out to Tripett Ranch. As the temperatures raised up into the 90s, many small woodland creatures came out to sun themselves, along with one big one. As Jim pointed out the beautiful views, I gasped as I watched him make a near tragic step - right by the head of a giant rattlesnake! Fortunately, I learned later that a rattler cannot strike unless it coils first. We both breathed a sigh of relief and became a little more aware of our steps as we ran off into the distance. Little did I know that would be the least of the dangers that I would face that weekend.

On Sunday morning, Donn and I drove to the start of the Sycamore Canyon 50k. The start time was 8:30am - unforgiving in the shadeless heat. Craig was there to do the 8k, Jean and Kathy were doing the 30k and Donn and I were doing the 50k. It was only a few hours into our journey when record breaking heat caused my stomach to begin to turn. I figured it was great heat training though! At about mile 15, we saw a man sitting down in the trail. Donn and I stopped to help. "I am ok," he said. "I'm a doctor... but there is a man about a 10th of a mile down that needs help." We continued our run to find a collapsed man in the middle of the trail. His name was Brett. Everyone was trying to call for help, but cell reception was almost non existent. Then I tried my brand new phone - It worked! I was able to get in touch with the race director through Craig who was waiting at the finish line.

The ranger and a lifeguard/EMT showed up shortly thereafter. Froggie (Kathy) had caught up to us with a friend named LeRoy as well. She opted out of the race to stop and help too. We tried our best to carry him to the fireroad, but on the single track it was next to impossible. There was only one other option.

Had it not been so unfortunate, it would have been rather neat to watch the helicopter load our new friend Brett in without even touching down. The rest of us hiked back up to the fireroad, Froggie and the doctor headed back in the cars while Donn, LeRoy and I finished the 30k together. We had timed out of the 50k.

This weekend put these races in perspective for me on two levels. 1) I should never take for granted the dangers that I face out there and I should always do my best to be prepared. 2) I should never underestimate the spirit of ultrarunners, who gladly DNF races to help a fellow runner. I truly love these people.

On Friday, Donn will fly up to Auburn and Brian and I will drive there. We will meet up with great friends and go on a 72 mile journey of a lifetime, at Western States training camp. Slowly but surely, my dreams are beginning to come true!

184 Days until the Javelina Jundred!

I could not be more excited about the decision to run my first 100 mile race. After almost a week long break, I am back in full swing, upping my mileage. Fortunately I was off early enough last night to make the drive out to Phidippides for an evening run.

I love when the weather changes and the heat of a summer day cools into perfect evening running temperatures. I love how long it takes the sun to go down and how the city of Encino looks below as we run into the hills surrounding it. Last night we decided to run 'Exact Science,' one of my favorite courses.

I was running with Jim and Ko while Donn and Brian decided to take off in front of us. It wasn't long before the two of them had disappeared. By the time we got back to the store, we finally caught up with them - coming from the other direction. "Where have you guys been?" Brian said... "You didn't do 'Pure Stupidity' tonight?" I think we now officially have a new, more challenging course to add to our nightly runs.

This weekend promises to be a fun one. As Brian takes off for Arizona for a triathlon, I will enjoy a Saturday morning run with the Goats followed up by a fun and challenging 50k on Sunday in the Santa Monica hills. I love this.

The Wild Wild West 50k

This was definitely an exciting race! At 1:15am (maybe a record?), Brian and I rose from our comfortable bed to hit the road and head towards Lone Pine. We arrived about 45 minutes before the race began, just in time for the sun to rise over the beautiful snow covered mountains that painted the backdrop of an amazing scene. At 6am, we took off into the desert. Brian went sprinting off into the distance while I stayed back with Jim.

Lone Pine might be the most beautiful place I have ever been. Jim and I ran and laughed as we got lost (quite literally) in the desert that once played stage to many movies such as Star Wars. More than once, we had to switch to our Darth Vader and Princess Leia voices as we trodded off into what seemed like alien territory. At mile 22 we came across a group of artists, painting water colors of the rocks. It was like being in heaven.

About a mile from the finish, Jim and I caught up to Bob, the Yak. We ran in together, smiling, enjoying another wonderful adventure.

Brian placed 14th overall and 4th in his division. He is really making his mark on the ultra scene.

I met some wonderful people who gave me just the encouragement that I needed to make the jump into signing up for my first 100 miler. The deed is done. Javelina Jundred... here I come!!

2 Days till the Wild Wild West 50k

On Saturday, 8 adventurers take off for different conquests. Brian, Bob, Jim and I will tackle the Wild Wild West 50k, the Frog and the Moose will also take on parts of those trails. Donn and Ko head up North to run the Miwok 100k. There will be many stories to tell after this weekend. It has been an exciting month to say the least. I never thought that I could complete 3 ultras in the span of 6 weeks. This weekend will be a fun run with friends, no focus on time, just on pure enjoyment.

Today is Brian's 30th birthday and as of today, he is officially signed up for his first 100 miler. It is hard for me to wait until next year to tackle mine, but I have to remember that everyone's bodies are different. Not listening to mine has gotten me into trouble in the past. So I will cross my fingers and save my 100 mile virginity for Western States, if he will have me.

Last week, I began writing for a website called 'Planet Ultramarathon.' I report on USA ultra news as well as featuring an ultrarunner of the week. This was part of Brian's birthday present:

http://planetultramarathon.wordpress.com/2008/05/01/ultrarunner-of-the-week-brian-krogmann/

The Leona Divide 50 Mile Run - Round 2

As I stood at the start line in Lake Hughes, a rush of uncertainty entered my mind. Nothing was certain that weekend but pain - the pain that would rush through my body as I completed mile after mile, or the pain of not being able to accomplish my goal. I hoped very much that it would be the first one and not the latter.

Froggie (who was there to run the 28 miler), Brian, Donn and I began the race together. That morning brought back great memories of becoming an ultrarunner. I remembered everything so clearly as we took off into the sunrise. We lost the Frog, Brian was soon gone, but Donn and I decided to keep each other company and run this race as a 'fun run.' What a funny concept that is! We began the race not far from two people that have recently become my heroes - Xy Weiss and Catra. They were both seasoned 100 mile runners and I knew that if I was near them in a race, finishing would be no problem. Donn and I had the pleasure of running with Xy for several miles. I learned a lot from her in the short time that we spent together on the trails. She had decided to take this year slowly, entering fewer ultras so that she could spend more time with her kids. "I can't train like I used to... these events don't constitute training. To take on 100 mile races, you really need to get used to a constant level of pain." That comment stopped me in my tracks. What scared me so much about that? Probably the same thing that made ultrarunning appealing to me. Can there really be a higher level of pain than running a 50 mile race?

Donn and I met so many great people as we took a run down memory lane. We journeyed through temperature highs and lows as we admired the newly blooming poppy fields in the distance. The race is an out and back course, so luckily, we were able to see Brian once along the course. I immediately turned around and pretended I was running in his direction.

"Brian! You FINALLY caught us." He rolled his eyes, but I could tell he was very happy with all that he had accomplished so far. He was doing great.

Before we knew it, we had climbed to the highest point in the race at mile 32. Out of curiousity, I asked the woman at the aid station how we were doing with the cut off times.

"Well," she said "You have about an hour and a half to go 6.8 miles." I looked over at Donn enjoying his soup.

"DONN!" I said... "WE GOTTA GO!!" We raced through probably the most beautiful part of the course, desperate to make out cut off. Neither of us wanted it to end there . Along the way, we passed Kirk, a long haired, nice looking, gifted ultrarunner and bodybuilder.

"Why the rush?" He smiled.

"We have to be back at that aid station in only about an hour now."

"Right behind you!!" he said, picking up the pace. The three of us ran with all we had to avoid being disqualified. I knew first hand what it felt like to time out of a race and did not want to go through that again. With only a few minutes to spare, suddenly, the aid station was in view. "You will never take me, oh aid station of ambitious cut-off time!" I yelled as I sprinted in. They all laughed. We had made it.

After that near disaster, Donn and I opted to take it slow... 'getting out money's worth' on the course. Unfortunately, Brian wasted quite a bit of his, finishing the challenging Leona Divide in only 9:44. Donn and I jogged in at 12:41, just 11 minutes slower than my time the year before. I saw Glenda, the race director at the end of the race.

"It is amazing how you were able to create an out and back course entirely uphill!" I said, giggling.

"I KNOW!" She said. "I have done this race once and it absolutely felt that way!"

Brian had already left to go to a soccer game when we finished. After a bowl of soup, Donn and I drove back up Elizabeth Lake Road (also home of the San Andreas Fault Line), watching the sun fall over beautiful Lake Hughes. It was one for the books.

The next morning, Brian and I rose to meet Jean in Encino Hills for the famous Firehouse Run. Generally it was a 17 mile run that would go from Encino to Venice beach, but today we had opted for a different route that only took us 14. That was good enough for me. I was in pain... but I remembered Xy's words... "To prepare for a 100 mile race you must get used to a constant level of pain..." And that is exactly what I was doing. It was not long before Brian sprinted off. Jean and I enjoyed our time together, telling race stories, dog stories, and dreaming of the day that we could run together in a race like Western States! She was a great pacer, very patient as I was very slow that day. Froggie met us about 2 miles from the restaurant. "Pick up the pace, stop slacking!!" She teased me. When we finally made it to The Firehouse, food had never tasted so good. When I got home that day, my shower and bed had never felt that good. Wow, what an amazing weekend! I feel ready for the Western States Training Camp. One step closer...

1 Day - What are you running from?

It is a question that all ultrarunners are asked from time to time. I think the general thought is that if you have to run 50 - 100 miles, what exactly is it that you are running from? A bad childhood? A dead end job? For me it is none of those things. I like to think that I am running towards something. Everyone has something that makes them feel whole. The most that we can hope for in life it to find that thing, embrace it and use it for all it's worth. And this is what defines an ultrarunner.

67 miles, 2 days. If I can complete that, for some unidentified reason, I will feel more whole than I have ever felt in my life. I have no choice but to run towards that goal.

2 Days till 67 Miles

On Saturday, Jean and I enjoyed a run together through the Santa Monica mountains with the Goats. It was a beautiful day. We talked, admired the wildflowers in bloom, and of course laughed... mostly at the photo that was taken of me by Brightroom at American River (see left). It is so appropriate. During a race like that, one moment you desperately want to lay down in the middle of the trail and cry your eyes out, the next moment, eveything (including your waterbottle, apparently) is so magnificent and life could not be better.

When I first started marathon running, and then ultrarunning, it was somthing that I did on my own. I needed to know that I could accomplish these feats alone. Along the way, that changed. The first 50 miles, I know I can get through on my own, past that is where something bigger than me comes in to play. I realized that I could certainly be strong without anyone else around, but I could be stronger with the support of others. I have opted to run Leona Divide on Saturday, then on Sunday morning, wake up and run the Firehouse run (a 17 miler that Jim organizes occasionally from the Phidippides running store to an old Firehouse that has been restored into a restaurant) with Jean as my unofficial pacer. Donn is coming over to spend the night at Brian and my place on Friday night. I am hoping that we can run the majority of Leona Divide together as well. The ability to run 100 miles seems so far away for me, but after this weekend I will be one step closer. I doubt very much that I would attempt this without my friends. Boy will this be a challenge, but I could not be more excited.

8 Days till Leona Divide

Walking through Universal Studios a few days ago, I watched a tour bus go by. Mockingly, I mimicked the tour guide's voice "And to your left, a stressed out casting director rushed back to the office to pull off impossible feats for an unreasonable director." The grip walking beside me just laughed. I rarely talk about my life outside of running on here, but today it is necessary. It is amazing how intense work can be when making movies. You would think that I was saving lives. In the midst of all of this, running keeps me happy... it keeps me sane.

Something has shifted inside of me since qualifying for Western States. There is something a little crazy about attempting another 50 miler with just 2 weeks of recovery, but this is how it must be. 50 milers now need to take the place of marathons in my mind. And really, how could I not return to the course that made me an ultrarunner in the first place? What an incredible memory!

The picture above was taken about a week before my qualifying race. It pretty much sums me up. I am so grateful for running and who it makes me. I could not be happier.

The American River 50 Mile Run

I wasn't nervous on Saturday. Maybe I hadn't had time to be with as busy as work had been the past few weeks. Maybe that was for the best. Focused... yes I was definitely focused. Probably more focused than I had ever been before.

I lined up at the start line with Donn, Ko, Scott (a really gifted runner from the Goats), Mike (my pacer) and my dad was there to see us off. Mike and I started fast, but in that race it was necessary. The first 27 miles were pretty flat, but after that, the course would get challenging. It was best to try to make good time at the beginning. As I ran along with Mike, Donn passed us. He looked strong. I felt good, I made some friends, but my goal never left my mind. The silly poem that Bob had written for me the night before played over and over again in my mind... 'Run rooster run to a 10:51!' Funny the things that go through your head in a race like that.

Maybe 10 miles in, I heard Mike talking to another runner named Emmett... why did that name sound familiar? I looked up. "Mt. Disappointment!" I said. He was one of the two runners that DNFed with me. We talked and laughed our way through a few aid stations with the promise that before Mt. Disappointment this year, the two of us would hook up for a 30 mile run through the last part of that course, just to know we could finish it. I was enjoying my time with Emmett, but Mike kept me focused on my goal and not long after, we were off and I was back to concentrating on the back of his shirt and not getting too far from it.

We passed through aid stations quickly. Mike would allow me a quick 'hello' to my dad here and there, but I was to take my food and go. We were making good time and I actually think I PRed my marathon time. At mile 27, we finally caught Donn. He had burnt himself out a little on the beginning (which is easy to do) so he waited at that aid station for us to pass through. He was there with us for several miles but I remember looking back and suddenly he was gone. Was I really running faster than Donn? "I hope he's ok," I said to Mike. "He is fine," Mike said. "He can take care of himself." And we kept moving.

My dad met us and starting running with us at mile 40. I was having a real low. The dust was starting to affect my asthma, so much so that I was having chest pains. Mike stayed back with me for a while but eventually I told him to leave me. I really thought I was done. Tears streamed down my face. "Dad... I can't. I'm not cut out for this." I walked for a while, thinking for sure this was the end, that my Western States qualification just was not going to happen that day. Shortly thereafter, we rounded a corner that revealed an aid station. My dad turned to me... "Summer... you have 2 hours to go 6.7 miles.... you CAN do this." I perked back up. "Yes.... yes I can!! I will do it for Mike who I will show that his work here today was not in vain... I will do it for Dean, who needs someone at Badwater that is strong enough to push through a day like this... I will do it for Craig who would give anything to be able to be out here. And I will do it for you, Dad!" Funny how dramatic things get 44 miles into a run at times.

I sprinted off... I passed 10, maybe 15 people. I could see Mike! My dad was far behind, but he had given me exactly what I needed to finish that race. There was a 3 mile climb at the end. I walked some, ran some and the top of the hill came before I knew it. I raced to the finish line, tears streaming down my face. I looked up at the clock - 10:37. I HAD QUALIFIED FOR WESTERN STATES!! I walked up to Mike who had finished only 7 minutes in front of me. "I did it." I said. He smiled. "Great work."

Ko saw me as I crossed the finish line and unfortunately, he learned a lesson that I have learned myself in a similar way - do not start a race if you are injured or sick. He was sick and had to drop around mile 24. But he was surprisingly happy and still planning on doing Angeles Crest. Wow, I wish I had that spirit after my first DNF! Donn finished shortly after I did.

I walked back down the hill to find my dad and we gave Mike a ride back to his car. Goal #1 completed... now all I have to do is beat that darn lottery!

10 Days - The Opportunity of a Lifetime

It's amazing the things that we can have in life if only we ask. Even more amazing are those things that we actually want.

On March 3oth, Dean Karnazes will take on probably his most challenging feat yet - the Desert Grand Slam. This consists of 5 of the world's toughest desert races. One of those, of course, will be Badwater.

I found out yesterday that I will be crewing him at Badwater. I still have not collected myself enough to remove my jaw from the floor or stop my heart from beating a million miles a minute. I don't think I have ever been this excited about anything before in my entire life.

12 Days - Easter Promises

"Hey guys... should we tell all those people driving to church down there that God is up here?" We all stared into the Easter morning sunrise that rendered most of us temporarily speechless.

"I died five years ago when I came to LA," Jean said. "This is absolutely heaven."

The past few days have been so much fun. I had ushered in my three day weekend with a Thursday night Phidippides run with Donn, Jean, Bob, Tara and Brian (different Brian). Craig was closing up shop and I was able to present him with a scrapbook that I made for him with the photos that I had taken at Avalon. The weather was beautiful. Tara had to go home to meet her family, so she ran ahead as I enjoyed a comfortable pace with the rest of the group. Donn and I lead the group, racing without racing up and over hills, dreaming of our 10:52 finish at American River. When we returned to the store, Tara had left a tiny note on the door letting us know that she had gone home. Then we made a terrible discovery. The door was locked and Brian's bag with his car keys were locked in! We stared at the door, trying to figure out what we could possibly do. Jean called Dave to see if he was nearby. I think we all tried to open it. We saw Jean on the phone with Dave, laughing.

"Guys, look at the door!" We stared dumbfounded. Then we saw it - two big signs that said 'Hey fun runners - black bag is at Numero Unos (the store next door).' That night answered the age old question: How many fun runners does it take to read a sign?? Apparently more than we had!

On Saturday morning, the whole crew met up for a beautiful run at Chesebro. We didn't feel like we were in LA at all. Today, Donn, Bob and I joined forces for a race through lush green hills painted by scattered wildflowers. What a playground!

The icing on the cake was the Easter Sunday run. We opted to go to the top of the Nike Tower to watch the sunrise. At 5:30am Brian (my Brian), Jean, Donn, Bob and I met at the trailhead. When we climbed the tower, we were blessed by a 360 degree view of the city in which we lived. It all seemed so small - so conquerable from up here. And how on earth were we the only ones up here? We laughed, 'The Yak' complained of 'bladder problems' (associated with his camel pack), and we laughed some more. I'm learning that the love of laughter among this group is a close second to our love of running! We plotted an all night run. Soon Brian left to continue his triathlon training and Jean had to go to work, so Donn, Bob and I set off on a half marathon journey past the tower, into the canyon. We met Brian shortly thereafter for a tastey breakfast at my favorite restaurant - "More Than Waffles."

Today I am a normal, everyday person. I am answering phones and I am dedicated to the office life like any other person surrounding me in their cubicles. But this weekend, I was a great adventurer - discovering territory unknown to 99% of the LA community. This weekend, I hugged a moose and shared a laugh with a yak. I feel like I escape into Narnia every time I run off into the wilderness. I love this life.

"This will be a tradition now, right?" Jean asked as she headed off to work. We all smiled and promised each other it would be.

16 Days till American River

"Ah... and there it is!" said Jim. I gave him a questioning look as he continued. "The Phidippides retirement home. Isn't it beautiful?"

It was beautiful. One of the most magnificent, unfinished mansions I had ever seen. It was amazing the things that we discovered on these evening runs.

"Then it is my pact to you all that when I win the lottery, I will buy that house for us. None of us will have to work. We will just eat, sleep and run!" I said.

"And do charity work" Jim added.

"Okay, I will also let you do charity work."

"Oh thank you, benevolent ruler!" Jim said mockingly.

"HEY! I just bought you a house!!"

We all laughed and continued on our 5 mile journey. Tonight it was Mark, Brian, Ko, Donn, Jim and I. Brian and Mark were long gone, so it was the four of us making up the caboose. A light wind blew past us as we moved forward. If we were not running, it would have been chilly, but since we were, the weather was just perfect. We dodged cars, Jim told stories of the time he was arrested, all in all a great night!

It is hard to put into words how much these runs mean to me. Amidst the challenges that everyday life brings with it, somehow these people bring relief and support, even though they know little of what I do outside of running. Thoughts of an unrealistic runner's mansion makes the days more bearable and even happy when other things in life are not going as planned.

American River is only a few weeks away. As much as I want to say that this will be my qualification for Western States, I am still very nervous about the event. As my thoughts drift back to last night, it is nice to have the kind of friends that make me realize that qualifying isn't everything.

The Catalina Marathon

There is just something about days like Saturday. Time itself is meaningless. Moments seem like hours seem like seconds. Through all the trials and tribulation, through the uncontrollable laughter and maybe even tears, you simply never want that day to end.

It is challenging to start this story because I don't think there is a way that I can use words to give it justice, but I will try. I woke before my 2am alarm, quietly got ready and snuck out the door. My heart was beating fast - partially because I had not slept but mostly because I knew that the day would be one that I would not soon forget. It wasn't long before Bob and I were loading in to Jean's car and heading towards Marina Del Rey to catch our boat. We were way too lively for a group that was up that early! As soon as we pulled up to the dock, on cue, we saw Donn and Ko getting out of their car. The group was officially complete.

The first challenge of the morning was making it safely from the boat dock to the island itself. This was no small feat! With swells as high as 8 feet in the water that morning, you were in the minority if you were not getting sick on that boat. Despite our motion sickness, we were still too giddy for the majority of passengers. It was aboard that boat that I earned my nickname 'The Rooster' and Bob earned his - 'The Yak.' Use your imagination!! Towards the end of the ride, we all started to settle down and just concentrate on not losing our breakfast. The silence was broken by song... 'A three hour tour...' sang Jean. We all burst into laughter again and joined her.

Our second challenge was making it to the start line of the race. Because the swells had been so high, it took us a lot longer to get to Catalina than we expected. We barely had a chance to get off the boat before the race began. Jean and I were literally running and pinning our bibs on at the same time - still laughing I must say!

Ko was nowhere to be found at the start, but Jean, Bob, Donn and I took off together. The Rooster and the Yak had a faux race to see who could find the Moose first. We went chasing each other up the hill like little kids, making rooster and yak noises (whatever those are!) as we hunted down the real star for the day.

We were three miles in when there was a Moose sighting! Craig was clad in his traditional white wardrobe (to guard him from the sun) as well as his constant smile. Jean, Donn and Bob took off after a few minutes, but I opted to remain with the Moose. It was finally my opportunity to live the day that I had missed two weeks ago.

A few miles in to our walk, Ko joined us! All along, we had thought that he was ahead of us, but apparently the sea sickness left him ill at the start. He still looked rather green but he was tough. The Moose Crew was officially expanding. I walked for 11 miles with Craig, Kathy (AKA: Froggie) and the rest of the gang. I kept hearing him say over and over again "This is just great!" We shared stories, Craig made me a list of the races that I should do, we plotted his next race (The San Diego Marathon) we laughed some more, but eventually Ko and I had to begin running so that we would be able to make out boat. We left him in the capable hands of the Frog and the rest of the crew.

I really had no idea how challenging it would be to walk for 5 hours, then run for almost 3, especially on a day like that. It was beautiful outside, but extremely windy. As we reached the highest peak of Catalina Island, at 1800 feet, the wind almost became unbearable. Thank God I had Ko with me. It would have been a hard challenge to go through by myself. We had to walk for a good portion of the remainer of the race, simply because the wind would push us over if we did not ground ourselves. Ko was even knocked over once. I watched birds try to fly and go nowhere. After almost 8 hours on the course, Ko and I finished together with a story that I don't think we could possibly describe with words. Jean, Bob and Donn were there to cheer us in. My longest marathon - but probably my best experience ever.

The challenges of the day were far from over. As I cleaned up and changed into my comfortable, warm sweats (that I had never been so grateful for in my life) I received a call that my boat was cancelled but that we could still ride back on the Catalina Express (a larger boat). I ran to find Jean who was with Donn and Bob. Bob and I ran for another boat that still had room, however the last one out left in 20 minutes. We rounded up Jean and Donn, changed their tickets, but Ko was nowhere to be found. We looked at one another, knowing what one of us had to do. "I'll go find him," Donn finally gave in. Five minutes later, we saw Donn running towards the boat with Ko not far behind. We barely made it on.

I was so happy to be loading the boat. I remembered the Catalina Express - it was clean and warm. We walked inside... all the seats were taken. Only one other option - the open top deck. As we sat on a rocking ship, wind blowing on our cold, post-marathon bodies, waves splashing all around and on us, all we could do was laugh. We even realized that Jean had been given special tickets that would let us in a 'first class' inside area, but we quickly gave those away. Poor Ko was still pretty sick, but we finally made it back in one piece. When we arrived at the port in Long Beach, we had to find a way back to Marina Del Rey. We briefly considered running the 30 mile + distance, but eventually we all decided to settle for a cab. It was on the ride home that I found out that Craig had only had chemo 3 days prior to the race. What a hero.

You guys," Jean said, "this was amazing. Whenever you want to do it again, just let me know!"

"Well, the Moose's next race is in San Diego. You in??" I said to everyone.

They didn't even have to answer, their glances back and forth and mischievious smiles said it all.

5 Days - And then there were five

Brian and I drove home from our dinner at Sante (his new favorite restaurant) around 9:30 - a late hour for us. But with daylight savings occuring the day before, it did not feel so late at all.

"I'm still a little bitter that you beat me home yesterday," he said, reflecting back on his bike ride the day before.

"I was in a CAR, Brian."

Our conversation was interrupted by my cell phone. I looked down... it was Donn. Earlier that day, I had sent him an e-mail regarding our marathon with the Moose the following weekend.

"Okay," he said. "I'm in! Ko is too!"

Now Saturday will consist of Jean, Bob (another friend from our running group who opted to join us), Donn, Ko and me. I can promise, an epic adventure will be had by all!

6 Days till the Catalina Island Marathon

On Saturday morning, I was tired to say the least. Among my many minor physical ailments are cluster migraines, a condition that only a couple of shots at the doctor's office can fix. After receiving those shots on Friday night, running was the last thing on my mind. But I missed my friends. So I was off to join the Goats despite my body's plead to stop and I am glad this time that I didn't listen to my body.

Everyone was in great spirits after running the LA Marathon last weekend. Craig especially. They all spoke about their adventure and I was sad that I hadn't been a part of that. Elaina ran her goal time and PRed at 4:33! Before we took off, I heard Craig talking about the Catalina Marathon next weekend.

"You gonna do it?" I asked.

"Sure am!" he responded.

"Ya know, I was thinking about running it too..." Jean said.

Before I knew it, I was making plans with my friends to head back to Catalina the following weekend. Jean and I would run the race together, then run it backwards till we found Craig and finish with him.

It will feel good to return to the island that brought me such a win in my ultrarunning just a few months ago. This will be a great last training run before American River and I am sure that it will be a day that I will absolutely never forget. Unfortunately Brian will not be able to join me this time due to tax season, but I am so excited about the adventure that lies ahead of me next Saturday. I went and purchased my 'Moose Crew' t-shirt today so I am all set. Craig's last marathon my ass!

Iron Horse

It was exciting to me to travel all the way to Florida for a race.  I am so used to showing up to an ultra now, practically knowing everyone.  I knew this time would be different.  As I walked into the race briefing and up to the front of the room to obtain my goodie bag, I remember thinking, 'Wow, this is my first race in a very long time where no one here even knows my name."  My thoughts were interrupted by a voice behind me...

"Summer?"  I turned around to see a very fit man, probably in his late 30s - early 40s.  

His wife (I assume) smiled at me too.  "He has been reading your blog.  He was excited to meet you today."

"Oh hi!" I said, extremely flattered.  "What is your name?"

He introduced himself as Scott and told me that he was taking on the brave task of running the 100 miler the following day.  The race director Chris was my next stop.  I told him who I was and he knew me immediately from my e-mails to him.  I offered him the $10 that I owed him for switching from the 50 miler to the 100k.  He winked at me and told me not to worry about it.  I was starting to really like Florida ultrarunners.  

I took my seat behind last years winner and in front of two men from Tampa that had driven up to volunteer.  We chatted a little.  Last years winner (I forget his name) had actually placed 2nd in the San Francisco One Day event.  

The next morning I woke up and laced on my shoes, ready to go.  One problem - this was the first time that I had put on my running shoes since I broke my toe and it did not feel good.  My dad, who is always encouraging of my races, raised his eyebrow a little at me when he saw me hobble around a bit, but in a few minutes it felt better.  

We gathered around a fire in the middle, and Chris lead a prayer before we took off.  The men from Tampa had decided to run the 50 miler and then volunteer all night.  I stayed with them for a while but I knew that they were a little too fast for me, so I backed off.  I was still flying at 10 minute miles.  The only problem was that nagging pain in my toe.  I thought that if it stayed the same consistent pain, that it would be ok to run through.  That to me said that I was not injuring it worse.  But it wasn't.  It was hurting more and more.  By mile 18, I officially switched from the 100k to the 5o miler.  I was making great time so I could take it slow until the end and still use this as my qualifier.  My dad noticed around then that my stride was beginning to change, and as a result my left leg began to cramp.  It was beginning to sink in that finishing this race could mean dealing with an injury for the next few months.  At mile 22, I called Brian.

"Think of the big picture,"  he said.  He proceeded to remind me of when he had to drop out of the Long Beach Marathon at mile 25.  Unfortunately, when we choose to take on these distances, things happen.  This is all part of it.

I reached the 25 mile mark (also the place that we started) shortly thereafter.  "I'm out."  I said.  Some of the volunteers encouraged me just to do the 50k so that I could get a medal.  "Thank you," I said "but not today."

Of course I was disappointed, but I did the right thing.  I wasn't defeated by that race like I was at Mt. Disappointment.  I made a conscious decision to let the injury win.  When you are fighting against your mind,  I think that is a battle that you should push through, but not an injury.  

One month till American River!  It is flat and fast and Mike Palmer (the man that I paced in Angeles Crest) has offered to pace me to an 11 hour finish.  Western States is still in my sights for 2009.  If this was easy, I don't think it would mean so much to me.  And by the way, I can say nothing but positive things about the Florida ultrarunning community.  Even though things turned out the way they did, I wouldn't change a thing.  It was a nice training run with some great people that I would not have met otherwise.  And Scott, if you are reading this, I would love to hear how your 100 miler went.  Post a comment with details of your race if you can!

The Marathon of the Moose

I will share my experience with Iron Horse tomorrow. Today there is something bigger than me and bigger than that race that I would like to share. This is an article from the LA Times today:

Cancer victim goes the distance in what could be his last marathon.

March 4, 2008

There he was, tugging the brim of the white cap atop his head, a cap that obscured two ominous scars -- grinning.It was Sunday, just before the start of the 23rd Los Angeles Marathon. Craig Chambers had run in all of them. Now, for the first time, he would walk. All he could do was walk.

I stood near him, determined to match each of his steps for 26.2 miles, determined to get to know him along the way and provide support. I'm a good athlete. I played college tennis, a bit in the pros, and I regularly jog around Silver Lake to keep the pounds off. Walk a marathon? I thought it would be a snap.It figures, knowing what I now know about the man, that despite the cancer that is at war with his body, Craig Chambers would end up supporting me.

Unless you are a serious jogger or you shop at Phidippides, his venerable Encino running-shoe store, you probably don't know of Chambers. But you should, if only because he can show us what pushing limits looks like.Chambers took up running in the 1970s, and distance runs quickly became his way of life. For five years in the '80s, he ran from his Santa Monica home to work each weekday -- 13 miles -- and back when the day was done. Along the way he also plowed through runs all over the world, more than 200 marathons and ultra-marathons in all, some of them in the worst conditions a human being can withstand.

He never focused on speed. He focused on enjoying the journey and bringing others into the running fold.Chambers admits that he never paid enough attention to guarding himself from the sun. Maybe that is why cancer came in 2005. Hunting it down, doctors have taken half of his liver and half a lung, and probed his brain with lasers. Chambers has stage IV melanoma. It is terminal.If the statistics are right -- and with someone like Chambers, you wonder -- this would be his last L.A. Marathon.

There was no time for sadness now. It was Mile 1 and we walked toward the Greek Theatre, surrounded by a half-dozen of his friends: runners he had long mentored and encouraged. Among them were a zookeeper, a paralegal, a retired actuary and Chambers' girlfriend, Kathy Kusner. They have a nickname for Chambers -- Moose -- and on Sunday they wore white shirts with red letters: Moose Crew."Moose! Moose! Moose!" people shouted from the sidewalks as we passed them.At the start, during the cloudy morning, our pace was slow and steady. Chambers was not sure how far he could go. And me? Well, my legs were loose and I felt great.

We walked and talked. I discovered that he loves cities, loves Los Angeles. Between pauses to gather his breath and clear his mind, he spoke admiringly of L.A.'s diversity, its energy and neighborhoods."I am just so happy right now," he kept telling me. "I am just thrilled, thrilled to be here."He said this as he looked down Hollywood Boulevard. "Oh, yeah," he said. "This is just great." It became a mantra.Mile 8. Mile 9. Hancock Park. Koreatown. The sun rose. He still looked good, looked chipper.My shirt began dripping with sweat. We passed under the Santa Monica Freeway.

I asked him about the cancer.With an air of detachment, he told me he chooses not to dwell on his illness. Surviving this, he said, is like surviving a long-distance run. You go about it methodically, steadily. "You run 100 miles and you don't know when you start that you can do it . . . but you do . . . the limits are not what you think. You just keep on going."We walked down Central Avenue, once the heart of black Los Angeles, now tattered. He is a quiet man, an introvert, but I noticed as we walked that something about him makes people feel comfortable and good. Little kids, grandmothers and teenage boys held out bananas and slices of oranges. "You go, Moose! You go, Moose!" they chanted.

Chambers gave handshakes, high-fives and smiles.Mile 17. I found out that he loves Obama and Chalmers Johnson, J.D. Salinger and Kierkegaard. I found out about the time he has spent jogging in Watts and on Skid Row, befriending addicts and lost souls, just because he loves meeting people from all corners and befriending people he'd normally never know.

I thought of how I had never met anyone quite like Craig Chambers.Mile 18. Mile 19. Mile 20. Even though I was only walking, I could feel it: the proverbial wall. We pushed through Los Angeles at its industrial best: strip clubs and abandoned buildings and low-slung factories. My feet felt as if I were walking on hot coals. I was lightheaded. I had not eaten enough, had not drunk enough.Craig, how do you deal with the pain?"You're going to be fine," he said. "You know, I biked across Death Valley and back. Two hundred miles. I stopped in the middle of Death Valley to do a 10-mile swim in Furnace Creek. Then I ran over 100 miles back the length of Death Valley. The air that comes off the asphalt was 180 degrees or so. . . . Walking this long is harder than we think. Come on, you're doing fine."My hamstrings stiffened. It felt as if the veins in my legs were filling with cement instead of blood.

He wasn't having an easy time of it, either. Sweat now poured off his cap. Now he walked with a slight tilt to the right. "It's good . . ." he said before pausing, "that it hurts a little. You want to test yourself. You've done really well today."

The finish neared. We walked past old downtown buildings that are now lofts, past bums and hustlers. We were nearing nine hours on the course and I felt like heading to a pay phone to call a taxi.

But I looked at him, this man with cancer who might not make it to next year, and I got goose bumps.

He became reenergized as he saw the sign that read Mile 26. He no longer leaned to the right. There were just a few steps more.The Moose Crew surrounded him, clapping and patting his back.

Craig Chambers crossed the finish line looking as spry and lively as he had all day: back straight, gait smooth. He looked as if he could just keep on going.

Although I appreciate that article very much, I am not too sure that I liked all of the 'last marathon' comments. Obviously the reporter does not know Craig like we do. In fact, I might just want him to be my pacer in Western States in 2009. Can't wait for the reporter to cover that story!

5 Days - Taking lemons and making orange juice

I have been hearing Donn talk about Ko for a while now in our running group. It was fun to actually get to meet him last Sunday when all the Phidippides/Goats runners took part in the Firehouse run - a 17 mile course that lead from Phidippides to a restaurant called The Firehouse. I had broken my toe a few days prior so I was unable to attend the run, but still joined them for brunch. Ko is running his first 50 mile race on April 5th. He is also planning to run Badwater in 2009. He will do it too. There is something that I really like about Ko and many of the others in our running group. They have this amazing ability to take lemons and make orange juice... meaning that they know how to dig deep inside themselves to find something so different than they even thought existed and create something even more wonderful out of it.

My toe still hurts, but when I talk to my ultrarunning friends, the suggestion of dropping out isn't even an option. Some of the advice I have received has been to cut a hole in the bottom of my shoe where my toe lands or to just start running and it would loosen up in the first few miles. That is because something great will come of this too, I just know it. Believing something exists inside of you can sometimes create it into being. I believe that about running, about my job and about my relationship. There are so many possibilities in our lives if we will simply believe.

9 Days - Dean Karnazes, Friend and Hero

Hi Jason

Here is my story about Dean: Two years ago I was off to Big Sur to run the marathon. I had bought 'Ultramarathon Man' probably 6 months prior to the race, but finally decided to read it the week before since Dean was a guest speaker. I am not much of a reader, but I call that book my 'ultraread.' It was the first time that I had ever read a book from start to finish without stopping. Dean's accounts of Western States captured me. Although I thought I would never be able to accomplish such a feat, I began to dream of lining up with the runners at Squaw Valley to take on that 24 hour + adventure.

Meeting Dean was surreal. I first went to hear him speak and was drawn to him by the passion with which he spoke. Working in the entertainment industry, I meet celebrities on a day to day basis, so I am not the type that is caught up with autographs or pictures, but this time, I knew I had to meet him. I stood in line for an hour after the seminar. Dean and I became immediate friends, although I have a feeling that he makes everyone he meets feel that way. He is humble, passionate about his sport and everything you could want in a hero. I made plans that day to meet Dean in Albuquerque for one of his 50 marathons in 50 states in 50 days. Several months later, I found myself at the start line with him. He remembered who I was right away. Although I couldn't keep up with him and even got lost, that run goes down as one of the best and most memorable I have ever done. How many basketball fans get to play with Michael Jordan? How many young aspiring football players get to toss the ball around with Peyton Manning? That is what I had the opportunity to experience that day.

Dean and I kept in touch and it was not long after that race that I signed up for my first 50 miler. The race was almost a year to the day of meeting him. Later that year, I found myself at Foresthill, pacing in Western States. His encouragement in my life began to make me realize that maybe that race was not a pipe dream after all.

That day took a strange turn for me. I had committed to pace a runner named Jack. He was as passionate about running Western States as I was and we had kept in touch for months as he prepared. He was as ready as he could be. But at mile 30, he had to drop. I ended up pacing another runner instead, but DNFing broke Jack's heart. He swore off running after that. When I told Dean what had happened, he immediately wrote Jack an e-mail that would make a couch potato want to get up and run his first 100 miler. I still have it saved:

Hi Jack,

There is great honor in what you did at Western States, for you had the courage to try. That, in itself, is an accomplishment. Although the outcome was not as you had hoped, as Theodore Roosevelt so aptly put it, “your place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.” There will be other races to run. Please, never stop.

Always the best,

Dean Karnazes

There is a lot of animosity that other ultrarunners show to Dean and the only place that I can understand it comes from is jealousy. If any of them could find a way to make a living off of their running, I promise you, they would. To be honest, I think the group that hates him so much is actually a small one, they are just very vocal about it. It reminds me of the bullies in high school, so afraid that their own shortcomings will show that they feel the need to point out other's, especially those that excel. Tim Twietmeyer, Pam Reed, Scott Jurek... I admire all of them. But Dean will always be my hero. He is the one that made me believe that I had it in me to be this person. Next week I will be travelling to Florida to run my first 100k. That will also be my first attempt at qualifying for Western States. It will be Dean's encouragement that helps push me through those miles. You will always hear me singing his praises, no matter what others may say. Perfect? No way. But that is part of his appeal. He is a real person that made me believe that a real person such as myself can pull this off too. I hope this helped!

Summer

10 Days till the Iron Horse 100k

Last week I broke my toe. This week I switched from the 50 miler to the 100k.

Over the past few days, my life has taken a few rough turns. One week into my injury, my toe is feeling better and Iron Horse seems to once again be ahead of me. And what better way to celebrate the ability to run by a first in my life? On March 1, 2008, I will not only qualify for Western States but I will also run my first 100k.

Today on 'The List,' a writer from a psychology website sent out an e-mail asking us about our input about Dean Karnazes. He is looking for information on why he annoys other runners so much based on:

(a) the degree of alleged deception or arrogance involved; or because
(b) in trumpeting his great but nor unparalleled achievements DK inadvertently does a disservice to equal (but unsung) achievements by other great runners (eg. Pam Reed); or because
(c) DK's self-promotional approach is at odds with a sport that has distinguished itself as relatively uncommercial and "pure."

As you have probably guessed, I have a few things to say about each of those topics. My response will be posted in this blog tomorrow.

16 Days - Let Pain Be Your Guide

The trail run at Los Liones on Saturday was breathtaking. Brian and I began the run together but after getting a little winded trying to keep up with him, I took my place in the middle of the pack with Jim, Donn and Elana. Pretty soon Donn and I were off on our own, enjoying spectacular views of Santa Monica and the ocean. We ran through a park where deer surrounded us on each side. All in all a perfect 12 mile run.

The next day, I planned to meet Jim and Elana for another run. Because of the technicality of the course, I was forced to turn back a few miles in. I did not want to take any risks with my ankle. Brian had opted to join us so we enjoyed racing along to the car together and I tried not to beat myself up too much for letting pain be my guide and taking the smart way out.

Cut to yesterday, in the office. My life would be forever changed - well, for 10 days. I knew the moment that the door smashed into my toe yesterday that it was more than just stubbed. About 2 hours later, I reluctantly drove myself to Urgent Care to get the x-ray that I knew I needed. The news was bad and good. My toe was mildly fractured, but not broken all the way through. The fracture could not cause too much trouble, but the tissue damage would. So I am down for 10 days. With a 6 day cushion, it looks like I may be running Iron Horse with a broken toe. What a great story about how I will qualify for Western States!

22 Days - When Moose Fly

It is true what the song says "We're never gonna survive unless we get a little crazy."

Last Saturday morning, I was up at the early hour of 6am to go meet the Goats again. This time, one of my coworkers and early morning running partners, Hans, was there to meet us. After only ever running 4 miles consecutively, he was off to tackle the 8.5 miles in the Santa Monica Mountains. Hans will make a great ultrarunner, he just doesn't know it yet. The picture above is of him and me with Brian BEHIND us. That's right, I said BEHIND. I log this photo because it is and probably will be the only photo of him and me running where I am in front.

That morning, Craig, who I met at the Phidippides run a few weeks before, came to join us. I also met Jean, a friend of Donn and Jim's who they had spoken very highly of. I learned why very quickly.

Last night, Brian and I met Jean, Jim and Donn for a run at the store. My right calf was hurting, but I decided that I would try to push through it and enjoy the run with my friends. The absence of Craig, also known as 'The Moose' was eminent. The other runners discussed taking it slow so they could be his 'posse' at the LA Marathon. I had to ask... why on earth were they having to take it slow for a man who had completed Western States in under 24 hours SEVERAL times?

"Craig has melanoma," Jim said.

"And yet he continues to run, through chemotherapy, through everything," Jean chimed in. "On June 3rd he had surgery. On July 4th he was running the Palisades 10k."

We took off into the darkness for a challenging 6.5 mile loop. My calf burned. But tonight, I would not complain. Even in his absence, the Moose's inspiration was present. As I rode home that night, the song 'Crazy' by Seal played on the radio. "In a world full of people, only some want to fly, isn't that crazy?" The Moose has definitely chosen to fly. I wish I could be part of his posse on March 2nd. Unfortunately, I have another race to attend to. But it is nice to think that while he is accomplishing the incredible goal of finishing a marathon with cancer, I will take the spirit of the Moose with me as I tackle my Western States qualifying race.

36 Days - Life is not about learning how to weather the storm, but how to dance in the rain

I left my house at 5:30pm to be able to make it to Phidippides by 6:30. Usually it is only about a 30 minute drive, but tonight the rain would change that. The usual dry and pleasant weather in Los Angeles had transformed itself into a somewhat heavy downpour of rain. While 'normal' people were rushing home to have dinner and sit in front of the fireplace, Donn, Jim and I fought traffic to be able to experience each other's company for a late night rainy run.

When I arrived at Phidippides, Donn was already there. We were just waiting on Jim. There were a few others closing up the store that had opted for one reason or another not to join us for our wet outing. Surprisingly, none of their reasons were the obvious. I met Craig, a three time Western States finisher whose eyes revealed both experience and and excitement when asked about his races. I was disappointed that he was not joining us on our run. When Jim arrived, Craig lent us all some reflective gear and out into the rain we went!

The run was probably the most fun I have had in the water since the river crossing at Western States. We had a few 'river crossings' of our own, courtesy of the LA draining system (or lack thereof). Jim had a commentary of everything that we passed, from the 'good view/great view' of Los Angeles (dependent upon whether you saw it going uphill or downhill), to 'Zippys' (a random word on someone's garage that to this day no one in the group knows what it means) to the mailbox shrine that we passed about halfway through our journey. Jim's stories always make the time fly by. We even got a few shout outs by the locals driving home. I think they were probably telling us that we were crazy, but to us, they might as well have been cheering us on in support. We were wet, we were cold, but wow, what a great time! I think that people confuse comfort with happiness. Were we comfortable? No way! Were we happy? I think that we were just as happy if not happier than anyone bundled up on their couch in front of the fireplace that night.

So we are off to do it again on Sunday. In the rain. Through the canyons this time. Lat night was 5 miles, Sunday will be about 14. Are we crazy? A little. Are we happy? Hell ya!

39 Days - Running with the Goats

My cell phone alarm woke me bright and early at 6am on Saturday morning - an unpleasant time for most normal human beings on a rather chilly day. Brian and I threw on our running clothes, and away we went for our first run with the Goats.

The Santa Monica Mountain Goats is made up of a group of diverse runners - some that had just completed their first 6 mile run and others that had finished Angeles Crest numerous times. At 7:30am, the cars rolled in right on time. Brian and I gave our introductions and away we went into the mountains. Jim, who knew that area quite well, led us off onto a great adventure. They were a perfect pace for me. If I had been running by myself, I would have been tempted to take it slower, thinking that I had earned it for my work at Avalon the week before. But I needed to get out of that mindset if I was going to increase my speed and distance. The run was about 10 miles total and I couldn't have had more fun. We got back into the car after our run and Brian turned to me and said 'That group of people is why I love ultrarunning.'

On Sunday morning, of the 6 people that had committed to begin marathon training, only one showed up. It disappointed me because I knew that Jim and Donn were off in the mountains somewhere again, going for their Sunday run. I wanted so much to be a part of that but I knew that I must stick to my committment as long as my runners did. I think that beginning a running program is even more difficult that finishing your first ultra on some levels. I know that it is certainly not for everyone and if they drop and I start running with the boys on Sunday too, well I can hardly say that it would upset me. I took myself as far as I could go on some levels, now I need people in my life that challenge me to be a better athlete as well as a better person and it looks like I have found those people!

45 Days till Iron Horse 50 Mile Run

This is the quickest turn around I have had between two ultras before, but I saw an opportunity and I jumped. As the strike takes its toll on the industry, we are all being encouraged to use up vacation time. So of course, I logged right on to the website for Ultrarunner's Magazine and began my search.

On March 1st, there is a race close to Jacksonville, Florida about 5 hours south of where I grew up in Atlanta. Friday, February 28th, after flying in from Los Angeles, my dad and I will hop in the car and I will head down to attempt the race that claims to be flat and fast. If the humidity does not affect me, this will hopefully be my qualifier for Western States. Here's hoping.

The next few months of training promise to be fun ones. Donn and Jim are a part of this running group called The Mountain Goats so I will be running with them on Saturdays and following those runs up on Sundays with training a group of new runners to do their first marathon. It is starting to look like Western States isn't that far from my reach after all.

Avalon Benefit 50 Mile Run

It was somewhat terrifying to start another 50 mile race, especially after what had happened on my last attempt. But desire as well as fate brought me there to that little island off the coast on California. I needed to check my fears at the door and concentrate on why I was there. One setback would not keep me from pursuing my dream of running Western States.

At 5am, Brian and I headed out into the dark together but soon we were seperated. I got to know some other runners quickly as we laughed, talked and shared stories. It was a friendly croud and that helped block out the 4 mile ascent that started the race. As we reached the top, the sun began to rise over the hills at Catalina. I took a deep breath and tried to forget how scared I was of DNFing and remembered again why I loved this so much.

18 miles in I was still feeling good but it was certainly way too early to celebrate. That is where I met Jim and Donn, two runners local to the LA area. We shared stories and ran together for miles... talking about everything from relationships to where to pee in the woods during a long run. They were strong runners and I certainly pushed myself to stay with them. Around mile 38, we reached a long stretch of nothingness. Donn was feeling good so he jogged ahead. Jim was feeling dehydrated so he decided to take it a little slower. I was out there on my own, 3 hours from the 12 hour cut off time wondering if my goal to make this one of my three races in under 12 hours had just been squashed. Somehow mile 44 came up quicker than I expected. I had 1 hour and 45 minutes to run a 10k. I smiled and thought 'in my sleep!'

I bypassed the aid station at mile 46 and just kept running. I teared up a little as I reached the last descent into Avalon. I could hear the cheers from miles away. I crossed the finish line in exactly 11 hours and 31 minutes.

Brian finished in the top 1/3rd of the runners, finishing in his best 50 miler time yet as well as qualifying for Western States by a landslide. I am not a natural runner and am one of those people that will always have to work harder for that type of thing, but I'm okay with that. I haven't always been. But amongst the great company of Dann and Jim, how could I be unhappy being one of them? One down, two to go!

2 Days - DNF is better than DNS

The topic on the ultra list this weekend has been DNFing - and ultrarunners, all in their competitive spirits, tried to prove which one of them best qualifies for the title of 'king' in that area.

It is scary to think about lining up at that start line again. I am slightly undertrained but my ankle is recuperating nicely. It may be another year before the swelling goes away completely, but I can run with minimal pain.

As I sit at my desk on the eve of my boat ride to Catalina Island, I become a little nostalgic about my first 50 mile finish at Leona Divide as well as my 'win' at the Goofy Challenge exactly a year ago. I feel confident.

25 Days Till The Avalon 50 Miler

I have not been keeping up with this blog recently for multiple reasons. Work has been busy and my spirit has been a little dead in regards to the ultrarunner in me. I think we all hit road blocks in this sport. My number was up.

Lining up at the start line for Mt. Disappointment was terrifying to me. The weather predicted at over 100 degrees and a neck injury that I had acquired just a week before was still acting up. But you can't go into an ultra of any kind with the attitude that 'it's ok if I decide to give up.' Because then you simply won't finish. So I checked that idea at the door. Just after 6:30am the race began and I was off. My neck and back were in pain but I really felt like I could push through it. I didn't feel very well through most of the first part of the race due to the injury, the heat and I also noticed that my feet were starting to rub in my shoes in places that they hadn't hurt before. At mile 17, the pain became excruciating. I suddenly felt all the muscles in my neck and back tighen up and I could feel my throat closing up. I knew what was coming. I was on the side of a cliff when my vision went out and knowing that I was about to pass out, I forced myself to fall towards the embankment and grab ahold of a bush. I'm not sure how long I was there before a nice runner came by and offered her assistance. She offered me some salt tablets and asked if I needed her to send someone for me. 'Thank you so much,' I said. 'But I will be ok.' And my first angel of the day was off. Afraid to stand up just yet and walk, I heeded Dean's words and began to crawl. A few minutes later, I felt strong enough to stand and walk to the next aid station at mile 20. By that time, another issue was arising. My feet were on fire. I was afraid to take off my shoes and see what they looked like but I knew they needed some kind of help. I removed them to reveal sold blisters on my heels, balls of my feet and toes. I asked around at the aid station to see if I could find some duct tape but to no avail. 'Oh sweetie...' the woman at the aid station said. 'Let me get you a ride back. You are in no condition to finish.' A woman behind her turned around. 'No, you don't understand... these people are crazy. She will pop them, patch them up and finish, you will see.' She hadn't even started her sentence before I had taken one of my safety pins off of my bib number and began to go to town on them. I bandaged them up with some of their bandaids and medical tape and headed off. At mile 25, I was only 20 minutes off of the cut off time. That is where I met angel #2. He was a man with a thick accent that had worked on people's feet at Badwater. After I took off my shoes, he winced and told me that they were worse than the feet that he had seen there. I had actually made them worse by not bandaging them correctly. He was nice enough to tape up one of them for me and he was halfway through the other when I was given the 5 minute warning to be out of the station or I would be forced out. 'You should switch to the 50k and let me finish,' he said. 'I can't do that,' I said. 'Thank you so much, but I will just deal with the pain in the other foot. I barely made it out in time. I didn't realize it, but because 1 foot was now in worse pain than the other, I began to favor the one that hurt the least. When I tried to run the downhills, I noticed that I was developing a mild knee injury. Running was impossible. At mile 31, I barely made the cut off again. I was the last runner through that station for the 50 mile run. The man who was running the station pulled me aside and said 'You can make it, but you HAVE to start running.' 'I don't know if that is possible,' I told him. 'Then you should drop here,' he said. 'The next aid station is nine miles away. 3 miles down, 6 miles up. You will never make it by walking.' 'Thank you so much,' I said, 'But I just wouldn't be me if I didn't try.' And I hobbled on. About a half a mile down the road, I saw a girl passed out. She was barely conscious. So I hobbled quickly back up to the station and got help and then continued on my way. I learned later that she was airlifted out. At that point, I began my 9 mile walk of shame, knowing it was over for me. A nice volunteer, angel #3, came to walk me in and at mile 38.5 the 'jeep of broken dreams' came by to pick up the three of us up. A nice young woman hopped out 'I'm sorry,' she said, 'you didn't make the cut off.' I couldn't stop the tears from coming as I loaded in with 2 other runners who had also not made it. We road in silence until finally one of the other girls that had dropped turned to us. 'Good for you guys.' she said. 'A lot of people switched to the 50k that all of us could have easily finished. But we didn't give up. We didn't take the easy way out. There is something to be said for that.' The past few hours have felt like I was going through a terrible break up. I have sworn off running, I have calculated what I could have done differently. Running absolutely broke my heart yesterday. But one thing that I can say about that race is that I gave it everything I had. I didn't give up. I am fairly certain that since Mt. Disappointment 'did me' this year, I will have to go back and 'do it' next year. I plan to kick its ass.

After about two weeks down, I was able to pace my friend Mike in Angeles Crest. That was another amazing experience, similar to my experience at Western States. I was back in the game. My next official ultra was scheduled for November - Nine Trails. Brian and I headed out to an 18 mile training run in Santa Barbara early one Saturday morning in September. My legs were still a little tired from pacing so I told Brian I planned to take it slow and to just meet me at the end. I was in the back of the pack, taking it easy on the hills. Nine Trails is notoriously a very difficult and technical trail. About 5 miles in, my foot caught a rock and I went face first into more rocks. I was cut up pretty badly on my arms and my knees but I kept running, slowly. 9 miles in was where my worst injury of ultrarunning so far occured. I stepped the wrong way on another rock and I heard a rip in my ankle. I would later find out that I had severely sprained it. I layed there on the ground in pain, waiting for help. Then I realized 'What are they going to do? Airlift me out? If they even find me! I am alone in the middle of the woods. It is up to me to save me.' So long story short on this one, I hobbled my way down the trail, became severely lost and about 15 miles later I found the road, flagged down a car that brought me to the fire station where a worried Brian finally found me.

I have been down since then. When I try to run, my ankle swells. But after meeting with a specialist I found out that even though I can get into more pain, I cannot injure my ankle any worse by running on it. I began training again for Avalon about a week ago. I know that even past preparing myself physically, I need to get back in the game mentally. The next few weeks will consist of my journey to that place again where ultrarunning was exciting and challenging but altogether possible. I need to be there again.

95 Days - And the winner is...

Dean,

I couldn't stop the tears from welling up in my eyes when I opened the e-mail from Jim Anderson this morning announcing that you had won the ESPY Award. Happy, excited, proud doesn't even begin to express how I feel about you finally being recognized for all that you do and all that you are. On Sunday, after logging a good 50 miles this weekend as part of our ultra training, my boyfriend and I plan to sit down and watch you win, reconfirming that we do in fact have a place in this world. That place, as a wise man once told me, is among those who have the courage to try. Your courage has now shown the world that limits are merely suggestions and anything is possible if we turn our backs on fear and do one simple act - believe.

Summer

107 Days - Should Dean Karnazes win an ESPYS Award?

Anyone who has read one or two of my blogs definitely knows my opinion on this matter. I remember a year ago, sitting at the ESPYS Awards myself, thinking about how sad it was that a man like Dean Karnazes would never be recognized in an award show like this. This year, he proved me wrong.

Many people think that Dean has been overrated as an ultrarunner. Sure, many runners have accomplished his feats and more. He is famous for his Western States run but Tim Twietmeyer has completed it 25 times all in under 24 hours. Sam Thompson ran 50 marathons in 50 states in 50 days before Dean did. Dean attempted to set a world record running on a treadmill in New York City for 24 hours straight and missed the mark by miles. But something I have learned from Dean is that heroes aren't heroes because they are super human. Heroes are heroes because of the kind of people that they are and the difference that they have made in the world. Anyone who doubts that should look at the amount of money that he has raised for Karno Kids to get kids active at younger ages. Many people don't know this, but that was the reason behind the Endurance 50. They should look at the children's lives that he saved by doing The Relay solo year after year. Beyond that, Dean took the time to care enough to write an e-mail to my dear friend Jack when he failed at his first try at Western States. He still checks in with me and loves to hear the stories about my races, never boasting of his own that far surpass mine! Look into the eyes of any E50 runner that met him along his journey. All of our lives have been changed just by taking part in his adventure. Mine certainly has.

To vote for Dean, go to: http://espn.go.com/espy2007/index.html#/vote/ and scroll down to Best Outdoor Athlete.

110 Days Till I Qualify For The Western States Endurance Challenge

It was about 2pm on Saturday in a beautiful place in Pacifica, California when I finally heard those three magic words that every girl longs to hear from her boyfriend: "Yes, you're tough."

Okay, well maybe not EVERY girl... but for an endurance runner, they certainly felt good to hear. It was there in that park that Brian was officially inducted into that elite yet slightly mentally challenged club of ultrarunners. He completed his first 50k.

As he struggled through the challenges that every runner faces on their first big race, I took my time completing the 30k and allowed my thoughts to wander back to Western States. Qualifying this year seemed next to impossible. I would have to run a 50 mile race in under 11 hours. The only 50 milers that were feasable for me to participate in were challenging courses. My only option among them was Helen Klein, where many WS100 runners qualify. Unfortunately, that was the same weekend as the New York City Marathon which Brian would be running. I wanted more than anything to be there for him, especially since this would probably be his Boston Marathon qualifying race.

However, there was one more option. To qualify for WS100 you could run any 100 miler within the time frame of that race. In October, San Diego had a 100 miler with a low elevation change and a 32 hour cut off time. Where there is a will, there is a way. I am not sure how I am going to do it yet, but mark my words, I will do it. And so the training for my first 100 mile race begins...

The Western States 100 Mile Endurance Run

On Saturday night, Brian and I took a drive up North. We would go together but we would not spend the night together. Instead we would unite with total strangers to spend an evening none of us would ever forget. Welcome to pacing in Western States.

It was hard to get to sleep on Friday night. The next morning I would rise early to go and meet my runner at the Foresthill checkpoint. On your first try, it is next to impossible to finish that race, but I had every faith in Jack. He had trained hard and his mind and spirit were ready. I absolutely couldn't wait to meet him.

Brian and I took off at 9am for our long car ride up to the school at Foresthill. He had also met a runner at the training run that he would be pacing named Tim. He was a strong contender too having finished multiple Ironman Triathlons. All in all it was looking good.

100 miles outside of Foresthill, the first phone call came. It was Jack's wife Liz. "I am afraid I have some bad news," she said. "Jack had to drop out at mile 30. It is his knee." Not long after that we learned that Tim's kidneys shut down during the race and he had to drop as well. Western States was really starting to be put into perspective.

On the site, there were many runners still looking for pacers, so Brian and I continued on to the checkpoint to volunteer our services to any runners in need of one. Around 9:30pm, we both found our runners. Mine's name was Mike. He was a lot like Jack. The thing that I liked most about Mike is that although he was obviously in amazing shape, his body wasn't built like a runner. Mike ran with his heart, which is I think the most important tool to conquer that race.

One of the cool things about Western States was the fact that here, 38 miles outside of Auburn, myself, a casting director in Los Angeles and a teacher from Alaska were somehow united for one night. We never would have met otherwise. We told stories, we laughed, we would run silently for hours upon hours but we did in fact have a night I am sure neither of us would ever forget.

Running at night was a challenge to say the least. About 4 miles into my journey, my foot hit a rock and I went plummeting down the hill. My leg was scratched but my left hand was in the worst shape. We trudged along to the next aid station and the medic took a look. "Well," she said, "It does look like you need stitches."

"Can I get them tomorrow morning?" I asked.

"No," she said. "It must be within 12 hours."

"Okay... what are the repercussions?"

"A big scar."

"Cool!" I said. "Well, if you can patch her up, I will be on my way then."

Oddly enough, I didn't get a strange look. Being out here in the middle of the woods at 2am, she must get this too. A nice man took my hand. "This is going to hurt," he said. He washed my cut with alchohol and began to dig into the gash for all the dirt, etc that had gathered inside. He bandaged me up and we headed back out into the darkness.

My favorite, and possibly most uncomfortable experience of the evening was the famous river crossing. I felt like I was at an amusement park as we reached the aid station, lit up in Christmas lights. We ran through it and down into the river that was lit by glowsticks. The river was high, but not too high to cross. One of the volunteers asked Mike and I how we knew each other. "Oh we just met." I said. "But I think we are about to get into our first fight. I am not sure I know him well enough to get into this cold water yet for him!" The volunteers laughed as we forged the river and climbed up to the next aid station.

About 4 miles out from the finish line, we were greated by famous ultrarunner Tim Twietmeyer, out for his morning jog. "Good job!" he said to Mike. Then he turned to me "Keep him going, you guys are doing great."

Crossing the finish line at Western States was an experience I will never forget. Mike and I hugged before he crossed and I veered off on to the pacers route. We planned to stay in touch, but unfortunately I lost him after the race. But there was Jack. His spirit was wounded and he had decided that he would never attempt another 100 miler. He bought me a WS100 jacket and hat for finishing.

I hope that Jack will one day change his mind and we will line up together at the start of Western States. Dean was kind enough to send an encouraging e-mail to Jack when I told him his story. In the words of Dean and Theodore Roosevelt "Your place shall never be among those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat." Anyone who took their place at the start line of that race IS a winner. I hope that he sees that one day. Now more than ever, I know that I must do this.

36 Days till the Western States Endurance Run

Only a little over one month from now I will be sitting at the Forresthill checkpoint waiting for my runner to come in. It will be late Saturday night / Sunday morning but I won't be tired. I'll be wrapped up in a blanket cheering for the other runners as they pass. Among those runners, of course, will be Dean. Running in Western States, even as a pacer, is still surreal to me. Somehow I feel like becoming an ultrarunner was somehow a fluke, but there will be no fluke involved to run the last 38 miles of one of the hardest courses in the country.

Saturday morning, Brian and I rose at the crack of dawn. He was out of bed about an hour before I was, heading to the gym for a swim before taking on the Malibu Creek Challenge Trail Run. I was up getting ready for the Revlon Run/Walk for Women 5k. That event is yearly for me and I do it in honor of my grandmother who died of cancer. I met Chad at his place and we headed out around 6:30am. The event itself was nice, but hard to run for speed since there were so many walkers to dodge. About 55,000 people took part in it this year. We finished together in 30:12. 10 minutes later my phone rang. Brian had finished his 14 mile race in 1:57. Later we found out that he placed 13th overall and 2nd in his division, beating every girl in. That was his claim to fame for the day.

On Friday we leave for Hawaii for his triathlon, then it is back to LA for a road trip to San Fran to participate in the Memorial Day training run for Western States. That is where I meet Jack, the man that I will be pacing. Life is good right now. It is busy, but it is happy. I am excited to see where the events of the next few weeks take me.

Insane people are always sure that they are fine. It is only the sane people who are willing to admit that they are crazy.

Just 5 days after the completion of my first 50 miler, there is only one thought in my mind: when is the next one? Running Leona Divide was one of the most physically challenging things I have ever done in my life. As my work load lightens in the office, I find myself daydreaming about the experience that tested my very soul. I remember the first major hill and how the runners at the top looked like little ants and wondering how I was going to make it up there. I remember scratching my arms against the bushes as I ran to try to refocus the pain from my legs to the upper part of my body. Why are these fond memories? To be honest, I think it is the happiest I have ever been in my life.

One unquestionable happiness of that day was the support that waited for me at the end of the course. Not only had my dad come out to crew me, Brian was there at the 9th aid station and the finish line. At mile 42, I had little left in me. Seeing them there made all the difference.

I didn't sleep much on Saturday night. Excited didn't even begin to cover it, but my legs also would not stop cramping. Brian and I got up at 3:30am to drive to Newport for his triathlon. Thank GOD he had opted for a wetsuit. The water was absolutely freezing! It was so much fun to watch him compete that day, and he actually did better in this tri than any he had done before. Half mile swim: 15:01, 15 mile bike 51:34 (17.41 mph) and 3.1 mile run 20:25 (6:48/mi). Did I mention he went to play a soccer game right after?

I absolutely could not be happier in my new relationship. There's a part of me that has been scared to talk about it, in fear it will go away. Not only do I have someone that supports my adventures, I have someone who gets it too. What's next for us? It looks like we may have a few races plan together. Of course, Brian has chosen one of the hardest 50 milers to begin his ultrarunning career - Mt. Disappointment.

Leona Divide 50 Mile Run

Dean,

I don't think anything could have fully prepared me for yesterday. But with the 'spirit of Dean Karnazes' with me, how could my race have been anything but a positive experience? I was terrified as I pulled up to the start of Leona Divide that morning. Yes, I had trained, but you just never know how your body will respond to something like that and being an ultrarunner is a title that I have wanted for over a year now. Not FOR the title, but for some reason as soon as I started learning about it, I realized it was simply something I had to do. More than anything, I was nervous about making the cut off time of 13 hours. Even though I THOUGHT I could make that with no problem, again, I just didn't know what was going to happen.I met some amazing people yesterday and it was truly an experience I will never forget.

My dad and my boyfriend, Brian both came out to support me. The challenges that I faced yesterday are hard to even describe. I actually referred back to your book a few times while I was out there. It really helped me understand what was happening to me. There would be moments that I would face excruciating pain for 10 minutes or so in some random place, making me think that I would have to drop out, but 10 minutes later I was fine and I felt that I could run for days. When I entered the highest point in altitude, my fingers swelled up and I remember you talking about that happening while you were at Western States. I even started hallucinating aid stations towards the end of the race. It's funny how the body reacts to something like that.

Everyone knew I was a first timer, and as I crossed the finish line at exactly 12:30 (I think I was one of the very last runners in) I felt as if I was officially inducted into their secret club. The people could not have been any nicer, or crazier. And for the first time in a long time, I felt completely at home. Today, my body is sore, my feet are a complete mess, but I got up again at 3:30am to go support Brian at his triathlon. And oddly enough, I am not tired at all. Let's see how long that lasts. Thank you for staying in touch! I hope to see you out there sometime soon.

Summer :)


Unreal! What an epic adventure, Summer. I really enjoyed reading your account of the day, it sounds like one heck of an experience. Good for you getting up at 3:30am to support Brian. You guys make a wonderful team.

Hope the recovery goes well. Go treat yourself to a day at the spa, you’ve earned it

dk

4 Days - Dreams can often become challenging, but challenges are what we live for.

Four days. Just four days until I finally make that step I have been planning to take for a year now from marathon runner to ultra runner. I can't believe it is almost here.

The past few months have flown by. Between the insanity of work, training and maintaining a new relationship, let's just say I have been busy. But it has been a good busy. I am finally getting a little bit of a break from a busy work schedule, which came just in time. Training has been, well, not exactly what I hoped it would be the month prior to my first 50 miler. An injury at the Georgia Marathon put me down for a few weeks. Maybe we will start there.

You would have thought it would be weird for me to board a plane headed to Atlanta with a guy I had only known for maybe a month, especially since I had NEVER brought a guy home with me for as long as I have lived in California. But for some reason, it wasn't weird at all. The weekend flew by too fast. Brian, who originally didn't plan to run, opted to do the race last minute and ran a PR. We celebrated by climbing Stone Mountain with my dad. I felt really complete that weekend. It was so nice to finally have someone in my life that would do those things with me. I love the fact that he didn't even bat an eye when I asked him if he wanted to go climb the mountain after completing 26.2 miles. His response was 'Sure!'

Back in LA, we both had our challenges to face. For him it was tax season, for me it was pilot season, and an inflamed IT band. But somehow we both got through it. And here we are, 5 days before his Newport Beach Triathlon and 4 days before Leona Divide. My dad is flying out today. I am REALLY doing this!

Again, this will not be easy. In true Summer fashion, my IT band will hurt right up until the day of the race and I believe that a wind advisory warning was issued for Saturday in Lake Hughes. Thank God I like challenges!

47 Days - Cars are overrated

Okay, it has been a while. And frankly, we have some catching up to do.

On February 10th, I boarded a boat to Catalina Island at 6:15am. One of my bosses and my friend, Jennifer was going to join me for the Buffalo Run, but unfortunately flu season decided to change that. I was excited about my adventure. And an adventure it definitely turned out to be.

I chose a seat next to a man that somewhat reminded me of my dad. His name was John and he was definitely a kind spirit and a young soul. We talked all the way to the island, sharing stories of our races. Although it was supposed to rain that day, the weather held out for us and it was an amazing race. John won 2rd in his category. We shared some tacos and beer by the ocean to celebrate and I met all his friends... those people that meet up once or twice a year to do the Catalina races. We rode back to Long Beach, said our goodbyes and that was it... until next year, John and new Catalina friends!

Almost 2 weeks later I found myself making a step in my personal life that I didn't think I would make again for a very long time... but I was ready. I remember walking up to Oliva's, an Italian Restaurant in Sherman Oaks, with a little knot in my stomach. Then I saw him - and I knew immediately who he was. His name is Brian and he's a tax accountant in Beverly Hills. He is also an avid runner, such as myself. As I talked to him I realized that he might even be crazier than I am! He started to remind me of Clark Kent... a brainy, cute guy whose glasses mask the adventurer underneath. Tax accountant by day and super hero by, well, early morning and night. Brian and I spent the next two weeks e-mailing several times a day and working dates into his tax and my pilot seasons. Cut to yesterday - we lined up at the start of the LA Marathon and I had a day that finally matched and maybe topped the 4th of July.

Prior to the LA Marathon I had run almost 20 miles around Burbank and a little over 4 miles to the start of the race. This would be the first time I had completed a full 50 miles. Around mile 16 of the marathon, I started to feel it. By mile 24, I was in excruciating pain. And then there was Brian - he had finished the race and run back almost 2 miles to help me finish. It was a day of firsts for me. As I crossed the finish line I realized that this was a day I would always remember. For the first time I had completed a 50 mile run, and for the first time I had someone to share it with that truly understood what that meant to me. We celebrated with his friends at Korean BBQ that evening - two of which were first time marathon finishers.

Maybe at 29 years old, it's not quite time yet for me to become bitter about love. Because behind the Clark Kent exterior, there might just be more than one Superman out there. I may not need a Superman, but then again, my life might just be that much richer if I just let one in.

73 Days - The Biggest Loser

As I stood up in front of about 30 people on Sunday to give my mother away, there he was - the one I call my 'gay boyfriend.' There was a certain happiness in what my mom was doing, marrying and committing to spend the rest of her life with a really great guy, but seeing Chad out there reconfirmed to me that there was a certain happiness in my choices as well. Even though I have made the choice to be alone, I am most definitely not alone.

Yesterday our office announced a 'Biggest Loser' competition. Many people here have talked about losing weight but rarely do much about it. Of course, me being me heard 'competition??' where do I sign up? While losing weight isn't an area that I could compete in, I found another. Joey, preacher of the Atkins diet (which I hate!) decided to act as personal trainer to two of the girls in our office, Abby and Brandi. I took 2 girls named Veronica and Larissa. The winner gets... well right now, just bragging rights, but we are working on coming up with something better! I'll be tracking Veronica and Larissa's progress here. Regardless of the outcome, it is exciting to help 2 people change their lives around the way that I did. Who am I kidding? Joey's going down!