Ultra Beast 2013 - Killington, VT

Going for a crazed pre-start happy picture

2013 Ultra Beast. We came back. I can talk for hours about the prep and planning for this weekend. Not only the physical training, but the 'get the kids situated, Tim's work schedule situated, mom situated' work that goes into a weekend away from home. We all have issues, mine are no better or worse than anyone else.  On to Vermont!

Killington is known as the Beast of the East. Last year the UB (Ultra Beast) was 2 laps of the Beast course. The Beast is a hard, long (13+ miles) course. Doing it twice was even longer and harder. We don't need to go over in detail last year (made it to the final cutoff PAST the cutoff time, so we were pulled from the course, DNF, read what I wrote last year). This year, we heard that the course would follow the first 6 miles or so of the Beast course, then branch off for it's own 13 miles (or so), then re-connect with the Beast course for the final 7 miles (or so). How did we 'hear' this? Sitting at lunch on Saturday talking with a few guys who were going to do it TWICE, starting that night. I'm not so crazy when you meet the hundreds of people who do tons and tons more than I can ever dream of attempting!

Saturday was a really nice fall day - nice temps, sunny sky, just a pretty day. (My race was Sunday. The UB had a 6am start time). And then the rain came in. And the cold. I woke up at 1am or so to the sounds of pouring rain. Knowing I had a few hours to the start, I tried to get some sleep. Didn't really happen, but that's normal. Walking to the start, it was cold but not as bad as I expected. It was wet, but not raining. I'll take it!

We meet up with Brent and Shannon and just get to it. Off to the start (in the dark), and have to jump a 5ft wall to get there. For some reason - the crowds, the dark where I didn't even realize there was a wall, moving slowly, I could not get over it. I had a moment of panic but then was ok. For the record, that was the only wall I had an issue with all day. Which was good, because there were a lot of walls to get over!

How to describe the race itself. I can't talk about every mile, every obstacle, because it is almost a blur.... someone after the fact said the Beast course had 42 obstacles and the UB 24 - so that would give us 66 total. That includes walls, sandbag carries, balance beams, spear throws, tire drags, log flips, log carries, atlas carries, Hercules hoists, vertical cargo nets, monkey bars, and 50 some-odd others. It was also straight up at every possible chance. A double black diamond ski trail? We went up it. Needed to go down? Well then  bush-whacking through the woods was the way to go. Or down on your butt on another ski trail because it was so steep. The best recap I have seen yet (a week after the race) was this by Morgan:

(Love the scribble that represents a s#it ton of obstacles. Also notice how every mile is marked "Mile 11" That's because there was total confusion as to how far along we were at every point)

This was a map given to spectators. This is just the Beast course.

The first huge hurdle? After a few miles of climbing, we ended up here, to the 60lb sandbag carry. 60 lbs no matter what your size, your gender. Just pick it up and go. Some have said it was a half mile up, and then another 1/2 mile back down. Some said 2/3 of a mile, some said 1/3 or a mile each way. It's one of those no one knows for sure, but it was longer than anyone expected. One of those, oh we've crested the top.....no we haven't. Still climbing. Crazy hard. Hard to find your footing sometimes, you'd slip and the bag would crash on your head. Pick it back up (hard on an incline) and keep going. Downhill was rough too. Small steps, don't slip, don't fall. Rocks were becoming dislodged and were FLYING down the hill. Yells of "ROCK!!!!" were heard every few minutes. Sandbags were dropped. Some people tried dragging them. I just carried and took my small steps, and tried to go. Got to the bottom, caught up to Brent and started yelling "What time is it???" because at some point of the carry my watch  stopped. I wanted to keep track of the hours, because we had cutoffs. Tim and Shannon were there watching and cheering, and finally Tim told me it was like 9:10. My watch was about 40 minutes off. Ok, I would be doing math for the rest of the day but that was ok. I needed to be at Skyship base at 3pm, the water at the festival area by 6pm, and the final rope traverse by 7pm. We also had mile markers associated with those locations, but we were soon to learn that Spartan miles are different than Garmin miles, and to disregard the watch for anything other than time.

Getting the sandbag (not me in picture)

That's me in the green socks headed up w/Brent

Up. And up. 

This was Saturday - much sunnier than Sunday!

 

Coming back down

Smiling (look at those clouds behind us. When we got above the clouds - ugh)

We headed back up, once again. The climbs were constant and difficult. It was wet and muddy and slippery and rocky, but my shoes held up well and I didn't slip and slide much. I probably wasn't as fast  as I could/should have been either, but that's something else entirely. I was slow going up. I wasn't being passed, but I wasn't passing anyone either going up.

We climbed. We had to memorize a code associated with our bib number (Romeo 226-1917). We had to drag a tire downhill, then back uphill. That was harder than it should have been.

This was hard. Add a little water inside the tire from the rain just to make them heavier, why not!!

The view was gorgeous. I tried to remind myself to take it in, to enjoy the moment. Sometimes that was hard because you had to watch your footing carefully, or you'd be falling down a mountain.

Obstacles, climbing, through the trees, on it went. We'd be headed down a treacherous trail (well, not really a trail, we were just following tape in the woods) and say "Hang on little tree!" as we grabbed it to steady ourselves and not fall.  Up Bear's Ass (that's the stretch from last year that's basically a mile straight up, through the woods where you have to grab branches and roots to get you up - torture). This year the rope climb at the top had no knots. Shoot, I never learned to climb a rope with no knots. Damn. Burpees for me.

Down a trail, and at some point we were at Bear Mtn base, where the spear throw was. Missed that, burpees. Then we had to jump in the retention pond and swim across it. Holy cow that was cold. Ran across to the log flip. Then we had a choice - 30 burpees and you could access your bin (this was the bin drop area) , or keep going on a 6 mile loop before you came back to the area to access the bin again. It looked ot me like everyone was doing burpees and stopping. Mostly to refill water, grab something to eat, change socks. I caught up to Brent here. We both thought we were doing really well on timing. He took off, and I quickly filled my water and headed out again.

Thinking back on the next few miles is hard right now. AT the time, I thought I was well ahead of the first cutoff time (I was). I actually had a moment of euphoria. I was flooded with endorphins,  something. I filled up. All I could think was "I'm doing it. We're going to make it." and I could see myself crossing the finish line. I could see it! I didn't slow down, I didn't relax -  I think it actually kicked me into another gear. That was a wonderful moment. Now a sad moment because well, you know, I didn't actually get to cross the finish line. 

There was a beautiful stretch of running (and now I'm not really sure if it was before or after the 1st bin stop. It's kind of a blur). We were on a trail that slopped down, then switched left, then right, but I could run. So run I did! This was also my first 'step off the trail and find a big rock/tree to take a bathroom break' (no judging if you don't run these kind of events - try to stay active and hydrated for 12+ hours and tell me you won't need a bathroom break!). Then came the greatest gift of the entire day. A barbed wire crawl. Over soft moss and grass. I kept saying "What is this! This is a gift people!! I could lay here and take a nap it's so soft and comfy!!!" I don't think I was dreaming, I really think it was as soft as I remember. Thank you Norm Koch for that moment of delight!

Down down to the next ski lift area - where we would do the Hobie Hop up stairs, across a bridge, down stairs, hop around and come back up the other side. The Hobie Hop is where they put a rubber band around your ankles and you have to hop to move forward. As I'm starting to hop I am told "Give your name to the next staff - you're top 20 female". I'm stunned. I just want to finish. Obviously not a ton of women are ahead of me, so once again I'm thinking that I'm in a great position to finish. Just finish, that's all I want. I have no delusions that I am anything spectacular, I am slow on the uphills and here come a few obstacles that I will fail (the monkey bars) but I CAN finish.

This is where we Hobie Hopped. Up, over, around, and back.

This was new. Bars going horizontal, then they switched to the other direction - most people used their feet to help get across but this guy was hard core!

Hobie Hop, new monkey bar-hybrid thingy (see picture above) then the ladder wall, then back up the ski slope and into the woods.

Can you see the tiny ant like people trudging up (under the lift chairs)?

At this point I met up with Ivana, and we spent the rest of the day together. Talking, encouraging, laughing, getting each other through the difficult spots. She was a gift that day, and will be forever thankful for her companionship and friendship that day! The people you meet on this course - man, they are just the best. You'd run into the same people back and forth, new people, and everyone is encouraging and having sun while working hard. There were a lot of "Oh shit" comments too, don't get me wrong. A lot of comments much worse than that, but it's all good. A lot of those comments came from me. But that's ok!! 

Up, up, through the woods, obstacles, up a climb where they had ropes anchored at  the top because it was so steep. Crazy fun. Or not, I'm still deciding.

Back to the bin drop area. We still feel good, we still think we are doing great with time. Top 20 female and all that, remember. Brent is there (we could always see him above us on the climbs, below us on the descents. We'd all yell and wave and check on each other. He was rocking the climbs!). We chat a bit as we change, eat a banana, change shoes. Then the three of us head out once again. Next up, log carry up the hill (and push the log through a barbed wire crawl as well. That was fun).

See the people at the bottom climbing up? The tiny ant people? Yes it was a decent climb. Also not the grass - slippery, hard to get footing sometimes. That was our day. Easy day, all day.

Bin area was at the bottom left. Just another hill.

Trails, woods, off we go again. Barbed wire crawl time.

That's me. Gloves saved me on the climbs (I bear crawled a lot), neoprene jacket kept my body temp pretty steady. Ripped my pants but that was to be expected. Nice butt holes now!

Now this s a VT barbed wire crawl. In FL we get a boxed off container filled with muck . Nothing NOTHING like a trail with huge rocks (look what he is leaning on!!).  This crawl was 300 yds long, the staff told us. Awesome!

At some point (after more climbs, walls, obstacles...you know the drill) we connect back with the Beast course. Since the bin drop (both), the Hobie Hop area, and now, we are all becoming confused at the mileage. "My Garmin says 11 - how can this be mile 8?" became a refrain I heard by many. We saw the Beast sign that said Mile 6 and thought, "ok - we must have 6 miles or so to go, but we're at mile 23 according to the Garmin, so......" it was confusing. At this point math was hard and I couldn't figure out how long I was on the course, and what time it was. We heard at a water stop "You guys are doing good - just hurry up". We saw Brent at the bottom of a decline here, and gave a wave - still thinking "ok, we must be ok...right?" Starting to panic a bit. We head back down to the festival area where we have rope climbs, crawls, barbed wire, cargo net climbs, more rope climbs, tarzan swing, horizontal wall, memorization (finally), before we headed back into the woods. We saw Tim there (and here are his pictures) and STILL thought that we were ok for time - maybe not as confident as we were earlier, but we hit the 6pm cutoff, and headed strong and hard back into the woods.

My pal Ivana

Looking mighty happy here

Up and over

Tim is yelling "Smile!" and I try

Off into the woods - now we are a group of three (Tonya? I think joined us). We ran as hard as we could through the woods, while I kept up a constant refrain of "We are doing this ladies! No giving up. We are making the cutoff! We have got this. We can do this. They are not stopping us. We will yell and scream and keep going. We've got this!!!!" Then this - which was scary for me.

Straight up

Not me but wanted you to get the idea . Did I mention this was hard?

More trails, lots of mud and muck that we tried hard to navigate around. We hit the atlas carry (pick up a big boulder, carry it across, do 5 burpees, carry it back) and are headed to the barbed wire crawl when we are stopped. A medic (?) was telling us (now 4 gals) that we were missing the final cutoff, that it was getting dark and temps were going into the 30's so we would be pulled. Then it was confusing. Spontaneous tears (from me) lots of arguing and talking (from me and others). More tears (me again, but I was not alone crying anymore). 4 guys join us and they bring us into a room/storage area to wait for transportation to the finish. More tears, total exhaustion was coming out now. I kept going on and on about how hard this all was - not the race, but getting it all together. How everybody in my life had to sacrifice for me to get to come here - EVERYBODY. And I couldn't get it done. AGAIN. My poor kids, my mom, my mother-in-law, Tim...everybody had sacrificed for ME and I was so upset at myself.   26.6 miles according to the Garmin. The 4 guys piled into the trunk of this SUV, the 4 of us girls sat in the front, and all we headed down the mountain. They brought us to the medical tent to warm up, and after standing there for a few minutes I just left to go find Tim.

I knew Tim would be waiting by the rope traverse - the final cutoff area. As I was walking toward it (hundreds of people still milling about in the dark, wrapped up in foil blankets, laughing, crying, you saw it all) Tim walked out of the lodge ares. Perfect timing. I saw his face, and saw his immediate concern. I lost it and cried once again. Just seeing his face and knowing how sad and worried he was for me - you could see it clearly on his face - broke my heart. I'm sure his heart broke a bit looking at me. Disappointment, sadness, regret, anger, I had it all. All at myself though - this was no one's fault but mine.

So, I am 2 for 2 at Killington VT. Am I too slow, too old, just plain old not good enough for this kind of event? The cold affects me way too much. My hands and arms don't work well. Obstacles I can do, I could not on this day. Burpees did keep me warm though. I just don't know. I will never regret the experience. How lucky am I that I even get the opportunity to go? To be in VT? To climb mountains? To make such good friends and meet some really incredible people? It's the experience that you go for. I got that. I had a great experience. But it's hard. Hard to hold on to ANOTHER DNF. Hard to train and not finish. Hard to climb ski slopes (damn you flat S.FL). I'm smiling though, thinking about it, and that's a good sign. Top 20 female? Only 15 women finished. 15. 15 incredible athletes!!!! And I'm jealous! :)

(That's it, there are a ton of details I could add, that I'll remember daily, but you get the idea. No one will really understand unless you were there. Hope this gives a little clue about what the day was like!)

GORUCK Miami 2013

Where to begin. GORUCK was one of those events that seemed fun, hard, exciting, and definitely outside my comfort zone. 8-10 hours (ours ended up being almost 12) 10 miles or so (I have no idea how much ground we ended up covering) of crawling, carrying, lifting, dragging, walking, hustling, and did I mention carrying rucks, sandbags, and each other all around South Beach Miami.

GORUCK website describes it as - Teamwork, leadership, camaraderie, smiles, and a gut-check worthy of Special Operations training. But the beauty of the Challenge is that it’s not about you, it’s about the people by your side, the individuals that become your team. 

I enjoyed the Hurricane Heat at the Miami Spartan Race so much that this challenge seemed like a reasonable second step. My friend Brent described the HH as 'a GORUCK light', so I thought I could handle it. A fellow Spartan friend Amy said she was doing it, so I felt I would not be totally alone and decided to do it. 

The challenge started at 1am, but it's suggested that you meet your team prior to say hi, get to know each other a bit, etc, before the challenge officially begins. Plans were made to meet up at a local bar in the hours before the challenge started. Amy and I met and drove down to Miami together - and after a long search for overnight parking, made it to the bar to say hi and head to our start point with the group.

Cadre Ben

Standing at the beach, waiting for our Cadre (military personnel able to establish and train a new unit) was a bit nerve-wracking for us first timers. Cadre, ruck...these were all new terms for me. Another quote from the GORUCK website explains that "the foundation of all GORUCK events is the wartime experience of our Cadre. They have all served in special operations. And they are all decorated combat veterans. Now their task is to teach others lessons learned on teamwork, leadership and survival." The word on the street was that Cadre Ben - also known as the Death Dealer - was our Cadre. That was a bit scary. I had no idea what was going to happen, what this person was going to be like, make us do, etc. I had no idea about the 19 other people standing around me. Would they smile, would it be competitive, would I want to cry...it was so strange standing there in the dark, waiting. 

Too much detail will spoil the mystery and unknown factor for anyone who is thinking about doing a challenge, so I won't go into too much detail. We spent the next 12 hours, (after our 'welcome party' of time in the surf, flutter kicks, crawling, back in the water, rucks over our head, etc etc etc) completing missions - do something wrong (picking up milk jugs filled with sand instead of the sandbag IED's we were supposed to find), put too much space between you and your teammates (stay arms distance apart at all times or someone would become a casualty and need to be carried), be too slow....then we'd stop, hold our rucks over our heads, flutter kicks and more again, and basically be punished.Then get right back to the mission. Keep moving down the beach, up and down the streets, etc.

In and out when we were not low enough. 

I started the challenge thinking that my ruck was heavy (about 30 lbs), and by the time we were finished, carrying only my ruck was a relief. We had more and more casualties - so everyone was rotating carrying, carrying each other's rucks, while carrying the American flag and our team weight (a 25 lb dive belt). When I was pouring over the website (I know, no original thoughts from me but the words are just so perfect) I read this  - Too much effort is spent to make it easy and not enough effort is spent to just suck it up. That's exactly what happens. You spend the first few hours thinking everything is so hard, there's no way, I can't carry more, how can I adjust this to make it easy, but by the last few hours you are saying "Give me your pack! I can carry it! I'll take her!" Everyone was capable of so much more than they thought. 

I think we were in trouble for picking up random milk jugs here

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Do not let your ruck or sandbag touch the ground. 

Can I also just say bless the bigger guys who just carried everyone constantly and never complained or gave up. I apparently was hard to carry because I was crushing some ribs when I was being carried on their backs (I still have no idea what I was doing wrong, or if my legs are just weird...or it's my hip issues once again!)

When we finished (after walking down Ocean Drive in the middle of an art show - so lots of spectators wondering what the heck was going on with this wet, sweaty, smiling, group carrying each other on their backs; with others carrying 2 or 3 rucks led by a flag carrying member) it was a mixture of relief and "Oh shoot, that's it." When I heard "You are now GORUCK Tough" I could not stop the tears. Crazy. I composed myself quickly and got my patch. Some pictures, goodbye's, and it was time to get back on the clock and get home to the family.  I will never forget this day.

No way - really? Mission complete?

I have only 2 regrets. #1, I would have talked more and gotten to know my teammates more. We had a few breaks - short, find a bathroom spot, get the sand out of your shoes, gulp down some food 5 minute breaks. I got to know people better as the hours passed, and now I wished I had done even more. There were 20 of us, and I really liked everyone. #2 would be asking Cadre Ben more questions. When he introduced himself, he talked a bit about his background (very impressive) and said to ask him anything we wanted. I will admit I was a bit nervous to run up and start pounding him with questions, but now I wish I had. He was great, and I know I could have learned a lot in those short 5 minute increments we had to talk a bit. It really stuck with me when we were crawling out of the surf and he was yelling at us to keep our bellies on the ground, to keep low. We're crawling and all of a sudden I hear "Keep your f*&^ing head down or it'll get shot off!" and I had a moment of clarity. I realized that wow, at this exact moment somewhere, some soldier was doing this exact same thing, but for REAL. Not for fun, not to push himself, not for a challenge, but for REAL, to stay alive. It really struck me and I appreciated the reminder. Thank you to my teammates, Cadre Ben, and GORUCK for the experience!

Marine Corps Marathon 10/28/12


Marine Corps Marathon - wow. I had many people tell me "this is the best event you'll run in...words can't really describe how great it is" and they were right. Washington DC, the monuments, the Marines...wow.

We signed up for the Runners World Challenge. Basically it just got you fun amenities - a weekly e-mail fro Bart Yasso with tips and pointers; a training plan (if you wanted it), on-line communities/groups for support (never even looked those up), special packet pick up at the Expo (great - no line to wait on), a strategy session (probably the best part), pre-race tent with food, drinks, private bag check and port-a-poties (that made it worth every penny), post race 'party' at the Artisphere (basically a meeting room in a neat building where they had free massages, food, drinks, tables, music, and your bag waiting for you). All in all, it just added to the great experience.

At the Expo you went through security and bag search (it is DC), and met the group at the RWC (Runners World Challenge) location. The magazine editor was there, David Willey, Bart Yasso, Jen (who e-mailed everyone and was a go to coach)....they talked to us about the day, got us all excited and pumped up. A neat experience. We walked around, waited on a loooong line to Brooks to buy a visor (for me) and cap (for Tim). Waiting on line someone noticed my Ultra Beast green shirt - Lisa, who ran the team UB. Fun!!! We talked Ultra Beast, marathons, etc....she was so happy and told me how she was carrying a flag with her charity group for the entire marathon. Wow, very impressive. Ran into two other guys (from FL, can you believe it) who also had Spartan shirts on and we chatted with them for a bit. You meet Spartans everywhere!

The race strategy session that afternoon was great. Amby Burfoot, Boston champion, reminded us to go out slow. Talked about how you want to burn fat first, not glucose, and if you go out too fast you'll burn the glucose first (which is bad). Go out easier than you need to so you burn fat first, and save some glucose for the later miles. Remember to fuel your body on the way. Forgetting (or being too tired, or too out of it) to take a gel, or whatever, can be the difference between petering out and PR'ing. Great advice. The race director, Rick Nealis (20 years of service as a Marine) was there to give us pointers, let us know about the course, and tell a ton of fascinating stories (the guy can TALK). He talked about stealing Oprah from the Chicago marathon (which was to be her first) to come do MCM. After all the organizing and planning that took, he was offered a job from Oprah's team. He talked about the race in 2011, how when running past the Pentagon you could hear nothing but footsteps. It was that solemn. We learned how they go over Arlington National Cemetery with heat sensors overnight to check for people; how they had divers in the water (because the race goes over bridges) to check for explosives; how the logistics of a huge marathon itself is hard - imagine doing one in the Nations Capitol. He told lots of fun stories, had everyone laughing, and answered every question that came up. We learned that the Marines that work with him race day (carrying stuff, guarding, etc) all have to be 6'4" - and he makes them carry big heavy stuff just for fun. :) The Marines that give out the medals? They are all 2nd Lieutenants, and it's nice for them to hear 'Thank you Lieutenant", so I made a mental note not to forget that race day. He also said "please, don't get upset when they call you Ma'am. They are trained to say Sir and Ma'am; ladies don't get upset" (that was funny). Rick said that the Marines are usually not allowed to accept hugs, but on race day they are (not sure if that was a joke or not but I made a second mental note about that). 

Race Day!

We stayed at the Key Bridge Marriott (thank you Facebook, reading posts from former marathoners and looking at corse maps helped me pick this hotel) which ended up being the location that the Runners World team was staying at too! We were up and headed out around 5:45 and sure enough, Bart Yasso, David Willey and walking out the door right in front of us. We just followed along, since we had about a mile walk to the start. We walked toward the Pentagon and right alongside Arlington National Cemetery. Such an amazing sight. You could see the Washington Monument lit up in the distance. We walked through the starting line area, to the Runners Village where the RWC tent was. A few quick speeches from Bart and David, some resting and Port-a potie use, and we were off to the start line. The weather was cool but overcast, no rain yet. Some wind, sure, but nothing horrific. 

Walking to the start with thousands of other runners, everyone chats and smiles. We passed a  DC officer in full gear who raised his gun (with red light beam thingy) and yelled "YOU ON THE BRIDGE - MOVE!" Guess you were not supposed to be on the bridge by the starting line that morning! Everyone kind of looked at each other and nervously laughed. I said "I might need that guy at mile 20 to keep me moving" (I sure did!)

Waiting at the start, the speeches and music was the best I have ever experienced. 

http://www.csnwashington.com/node/195391

The Warrior song by Hard Corps - wow, just wow. Just what I needed to get pumped up!

The race itself was amazing. The first 7-8 miles was interesting - some inclines, a few radical (but short) downhills, leaves on the road (beautiful), tons of spectators, fun signs (Paul Ryan already finished!   I'm tired too from staying up all night making these signs!), and aid stations manned by Marines. There was a turn around area at mile 13 - and headed back, through mile 16, the wind got me. I was getting tired. I had hopes for this race - not sure why, my training was iffy and my pace was way off for months, but I still had hopes - and I was slowing down. Never stopped until I hit a water station at mile 22 - and made the fatal mistake of going for the first Marine I saw for the cup. I AWAYS go for the cups in the middle of the station, or the end (it's way less crowded) but this time I messed up. Maybe it was intentional - I was tired, I know you get stuck and end up having to walk around/out/away from other runners.....who knows. But I walked. Then I started running (jogging, at this point, let's be real) and my hips said "No thanks, we do not like this". I felt like someone tightened the screws in my hips way too tight - I had no swing. Looking back, I know I drank enough (grabbed the Gatorade on the course and not just water) but I forgot my calories. My body just needed more fuel and I didn't give it enough. I'm not happy with my time at all, but I'm ok. Specific numbers and times and comparisons I'll save for a different post. I finished in 4:16 which again, is sucky for me. Faster than Nashville, sure, but there is a hugs difference between "I PR'ed" and "I ran a 3:50" I could care less about place, or PR  - what was the time? It's a hugely personal number - my fantastic race (or my sucky race) could mean jack squat to someone else. It's MINE. My daughter's kindergarten teacher used to always say to the kids "I want you to do YOUR personal best." What my best is might not be your best. But try to do YOUR best. I think about that a lot.


The Marines lining the finish line were amazing. They were all clapping and cheering. You crossed the line, and there they were, all lined up as you made your way to get your medal (it seemed like a long walk for some reason!). I made a point of shaking every hand that I could. I just walked down the line and said "Thank you, thank you, thank you" for every "Great job Ma'am; nice job', etc. It made em feel so good. Got to the Marines handing out the medals, and he said "Thank you for participating today Ma'am" and put the medal on my neck. I said "Thank YOU Lieutenant. I heard you were allowed to accept hugs today." He said "Is that right?" and I said "Yes, so I need to hug you" He laughed and gave me a big hug, and then I turned to the Marine next to him and hugged him too and said "Thank you for your service!" They were smiling, but it really made MY day. I saw one person who had a picture of his mom on his shirt, with Angel wings on it. He was crying  and the Marine said "She is very proud of you, Sir" (so incredibly touching). Got my picture taken at the Memorial, and walked off to find Tim at the RWC room/meeting area/building (how to describe it? I don't know). 

Walked through the finish line area, the family meet up area, and headed to the building (right by the UPS baggage claim trucks, not really far but it kind of felt like it). i was walking up the steps and was recognized by Amby Burfoot (!!). He ran up to me and asked how I was, did I need anything, showed me where to go (it must have been the pink visor he recognized or something. Everyone involved with the RWC was fantastic and made you feel very special). I walked in and got my bag, and went to get a massage. Waited for a therapist to free up (no line which was incredible, but had to wait for one to free up) and ended up with the editor again, David Willey. He asked how my race went, and we talked about half marathons vs full ones, how they are so different, what to do differently, etc.... it was really great. I felt like everyone there just wanted to listen and hear your experience and help in any way. Fantastic stuff. Tim was sitting on a bench right next to the guy who was ready to massage my legs. He ran a 3:18!!!!! Unbelievable. Incredibly fast. That's 7:30 pace people - really, really hard to do for 26.2!!! SO proud of him!


Marine Corps Marathon - my new favorite most inspirational race. The Ultra Beast still hangs on as my favorite overall event - being part of the first one ever, having no clue what was in front of us, the people, the terrain, etc etc etc - but for a road race experience? I don't think I will ever be able to compare ANYTHING to this. It's on the top of every list for a reason. This one I will do again. Tropical Storm Sandy - well, we had a crazy trip home (flights cancelled, hours spent trying to re-book with airlines who had no idea when things would re-open, rinding a rental car, driving west and then south in rain, wind and then snow, only to fly home from Charlotte on Tuesday). Loved every minute of this one (ok maybe not miles 22-25, but that's to be expected) :)

May All Your Hills Be Downhill

"May All Your Hills Be Downhill"


This may have been the start of everything.

Tim and I ran the Nashville Rock n Roll Country Music Marathon in April. Coming off a great half marathon season - 4 in between 1:42, 1:40, with my PR in January at Disney, 1:37:40. I was ready to head into full marathon training feeling ready, confident. I followed a great plan put together by Tim's training partner (Ironman, cross country and track coach for 15 years, triathlete, duathlete, this guy knows his stuff). I felt properly prepared for a good first marathon.

Then we experienced Nashville. Nashville is full of hills, Rolling hills. Constant hills. It was considered a heat wave the weekend we were there, but being from hot humid FL I never gave this a second thought. We went to the expo happy, talking to everyone, ready to go. We met the artist who created the official race poster - and when we got a copy signed, he wrote "May all your hills be downhill". I thought it was great.

Long story short, I ran a 4:21. Miserable. Not a horrid time for many people, but horrid for me, for how I prepared, for how I SHOULD have raced. What I was capable of racing. 3:50-something was the goal. 4:21 was embarrassing. I felt it by mile 13 - I knew I was in trouble. I ran, jogged, walked, shuffled my way through the end.

May all your hills be downhill.

To make myself feel a little better, I applied to the Ultra Beast. Send in your race resume and 3 sentences on why you think you should be accepted. I talked about my 14 half marathons, my times, my ugly full marathon, my black belt training, being a mom, etc etc....as much as I could fit into 3 sentences while trying to be witty and sharp. 10 days later I heard that I got in. Yes! The $250 entrance fee was the easiest pmt I have ever sent - no question, I was doing this.

May all your hills be downhill.

I have told the Ultra Beast story. 2nd big race in a row that did not end the way I planned. What was going on with me! I have honestly not felt great running. Sure I was and am doing good long runs, did my 1000 lunges in a ten mile run, hills, carried sandbags, more miles, Yasso workouts, tempo runs.....but nothing feels good. I have had a handfull of runs where I feel good and strong and fast. Otherwise it just feels like so much work. I keep thinking, this should be easier. This should not be so hard at this point. I am being advised that it's the humidity, the heat, kids are in school so I can't run till after 9am (which means it's HOT). Still. It's frustrating. I feel old. I'm 0 for 2. I finally realized, wait, I'm over the hill. It's all downhill from here.

May all your hills be downhill.

I think I was jinxed. "May all your hills be downhill." Of course! Now I am over the hill, and it's all downhill from here. Tomorrow I am running in a 5k that Tim decided last minute that we should do (his company is the title sponsor for the event, and we were just going to volunteer....but he thinks I need to see that I can run and it will be a mental boost for me. I am afraid it will be just one more notch on my "you suck" list). Marine Corps Marathon in 8 days. My goals are to feel good. Not great - you need to feel like you are working hard and putting out some effort - but I don't want to be miserable and frustrated and sad. Here's hoping for downhills that help you speed up a bit - not the ones that signal the end of the journey!

Ultra Beast 2012

Things I do not want to forget.

(I am by no means a writer. I have two friends that are published authors and wish I had their skills. This is for me, so I can remember the day and some details (although I know I have left out so many as it is!!))

I had a very disappointing first marathon. Four years of running, constant improvements on my time, training effort, everything.....and the marathon got me. 4:21 when I should have been under 4 hours.  I have reasons, excuses, but regardless, it was a hard blow. To make myself feel better, I applied for entry to the Spartan Ultra Beast.

I have run two Spartan Races in Miami along with a Hurricane Heat. Great events.8-9 miles, fun, challenging obstacles to test your strength, with great athletes who become friends. The Killington Vermont Spartan Beast is their signature, end of the year, championship event. Spartan headquarters is in Vermont, and this is the hardest, longest course they do all year. This year they added the Ultra Beast - basically two full laps of the Beast course. Over 26 miles. There would be time limits, cut-off times, expectations of all out effort. You have to apply to gain entry - your race resume, and three sentences as to why you think you deserve to be included in the first ever Ultra Beast. “What the heck” I thought. It wouldn’t be a tragedy if I didn’t get accepted, but boy would it make me feel better about myself if I got in!

When I got the e-mail saying I was accepted, I was thrilled. Got Tim on board to do the regular Beast (no small feat in itself) and come with me. Training started, adding lunges to long runs (100 after every mile) and working with carrying a sandbag at our local park (the old dump from 30 years ago that they turned into a park. Our only ‘hills’ here in South Florida).

Fast forward to the 22nd. Vermont is beautiful, it’s cold, it’s fall. Sunny, but cold. How would I handle cold? How would I handle cold and wet? There would be swimming, trenches filled with water to wade through, barbed wire crawls with hoses wetting you down. I thought I could handle it well. I was used to running in awful hot humid weather -  and anyway, you warm up as you run. Easier than being too hot and getting dehydrated (or so I thought). Then I heard rain was expected. Hmmm, not sure how I felt about that but ok. The day started out beautifully - sun was coming out, it was about 45 degrees, but it looked great. I had my drop bin all set - change of clothes and shoes, food, water, etc. I’d get through lap 1 and freshen up (warm up, dry off, eat) before heading out for lap 2.  We brought my bin to the drop area, signed the board, found Brent and were ready to go.

That's me, 1st column, 14th name down

Boy I look happy here! 

Off we went. Decided that strong but conservative was the way to go. No injuries, that was important. Get through lap 1, feel good, power through lap 2. Lots of talking, laughing, enjoying the terrain, scenery, obstacles, the challenge that was in front of us. We felt great. Strong, capable, taking things calmly. We hit the three trenches, got soaked, hit the wall, did the over under through  walls, climbed up up up, went through the woods, carefully managed the steep downhills and continued to laugh and laugh as we went. 

Getting back together after a barbed wire crawl. Still smiling. Ready to head up the ski slope!

It looks nice and warm but notice the volunteer to the left. Long sleeved jacket with the hood up. Hmmmmm

This was fun while trying to climb up a trail!

The barbed wire crawls were crazy. Uphill, rocky, hoses spraying us. It was cold and miserable but fun. Barbed wire was very low so hydration packs had to be taken off and tossed in front of us as we crawled. Then through the muddy trenches again, up the hills, carried cement blocks, climbed cargo nets, and probably 15 other things. Headed down to the 3-4 mile mark, which was right back by the beginning. I made the rope climb! Yes!! Hit the bell and yelled a little with excitement. Fell off the horizontal wall and missed the spear throw. Shoot. The slippery wall wasn’t that slippery - but they DID soap up the rope, which was probably worse. I was lathering up and soapy for a few miles after that one.

That's waist deep water under the ropes. Made this the first time through and yelled to make sure everyone saw me, I was so happy!!

Then we hit the bridge. Swim out to rope ladders, climb up, then grab the first of 5 ropes dangling from the underside of the bridge. Tarzan swing between the 5 ropes and hit a bell. Well, the water was about 40 degrees. Just trying to move my limbs and swim was hard, and while I tried, nope, I did not make the swing. Swam to the side, did my 30 burpees. I shivered and had chattering teeth for miles after this one. So hard. More climbing, more crazy stuff - it’s hard to remember it all.  More barbed wire, tractor pull (cement block thingy attached to a heavy chain we had to pull up and around), sandbag carry, sled pull, rope traverse (again over really cold water). More barbed wire uphill crawls. Memorization task (Golf 439-1800...I'll never forget).

Yay for practicing with the sand bag at the dump!!!

More cold water. 

This was harder than it looks.

I can't even tell you where this was.....somewhere in the 6-7 mile range maybe?

 Then came the mile straight up the side of a mountain. No real trail, just bushes and rocks and roots and the occasional Spartan flag to mark the path. Crazy hard. People said it was 45 minutes to an hour getting up this one mile stretch. Hardest climb I’ve ever experienced.

Getting to the top, there were a lot of “Thank God!” comments happening. Until you turned the corner and saw the rope climb....again. Ouch. I think I asked Eric “What do we do? Rest a bit, or just go for it?” People were drinking, evaluating the ropes, climbing them, and I wasn’t sure if I needed a minute to recoup. he aid “Just go for it” so up I went. AND HIT THE BELL! Yay! Unfortunately letting go to hit the bell put too much stress on one hand and I slipped down, ultimately to face plant into the haybales on the bottom. Somehow my chin landed right between two bales - and my arms were spread eagle at my side. I took a second to evaluate myself and yelled “I’m ok, I’m ok...I’m not hurt!” Got lucky there!

Nice trail. Or non-trail. Thank you roots and saplings for helping us up!

Oh yay! Another rope climb

Conferring for a bit about strategy. Or maybe I was just blankly starring at Eric in exhaustion, it's hard to know.

This was crazy fun!

Downhills (crazy, out of control, slipping, bear crawling occasionally it was so steep) a cargo climb over rocks, and more, until we made it through the first lap. Lap 1 done!! 

Lap 1 done, we ran to transition/drop area. Got to our bins, started changing shoes, socks, etc, and eating a bit. Tim was done (for awhile) and he stayed with us and made sure we were ready to go back out. Some were done at this point. I don't blame them. It was cold. We were wet. We knew heading back out meant getting colder and wetter. Also, we realized we were slow on the first lap. To make the time cutoffs, we'd have to get to the 11 mile mark by 7pm. It would be dark, storms were kicking up, 7pm was the limit. If we made it past that point by 7 we could continue on, but the course would be closed at 10pm. It was not looking good, knowing how long it took us the first time. It didn't matter. We were not giving up. Tim was talking to us, saying are you sure, it's freezing, are you ok, do you have enough fuel, etc etc. I was very quiet, as was Brent. Tim said later I wasn't really making eye contact. I was basically saying f*&^ off, we are going. And we were off.

2nd lap we had company for a few miles (we always had company, but this time out it was I think 5 of us for a few miles, then 3 of us, and then just me and Brent to power through to the cut off). First up, the trenches ...again. I said "I can't hurdle these" and all I got was "yes you can!". I quickly told myself "...just like TKD...." At tae kwon do I occasionally have to tell myself "Don't think, just do it" when I start second guessing myself and my abilities. No, I can;t jump and spin like that. No, I can't break a board that high up. My instructors ALWAYS tell me to stop thinking too much, and just let my body go. It knows what to do. Stop letting your brain stop you. So I just said to myself "Don't think, just do" took a few steps back and ran and leaped over the first trench. Hands were outstretched, waiting to help me but I did it. I jumped it. Everyone was so helpful. A wall was too high for me to grab the top? I always had a boost. Brent never minded helping me. Everyone worked together when someone needed something. Holding a rope tight so a fellow racer could get a better grip - done. Holding the cargo net taut so it was easier to scale? Done.

Then of course, the laughing and jokes kept me going. I never heard  "Are you f8%$ing kidding me?" as many time as I did Saturday....well, probably ever. It was hysterical. Things we did the first time through I completely forgot coming back on it this time. "Where did this come from? Really?" "Cindy you walked into the barbed wire last time, remember?" Oh, that's right. Crazy. We talked of bionic people made of titanium and how we were jealous. Possibly willing to eat children to gain some of the viper blood by osmosis.

We found walking sticks to help with the climbs and descents. Cue The Jerk references to not needing anything....except this stick. Things got quiet. The barbed wire crawl just about broke me when I saw the water still going. I was so cold.  Coming back down to the trenches covered with barbed wire, then the rope climb, horizontal wall (again)  I may have even suggested taking out a volunteer with my stick.  I hated the thought of going waist deep into the water...again.  The trenches covered with barbed wire....I looked like one of my kids climbing the doorframe up to the ceiling. I had my hands on one side and tried to walk my feet/legs along the other so I wouldn't get wet. It kind of worked.

At this point we were back near the starting point, where we could have taken a 'dignified exit'. We decided not to. We knew we were against the clock and it did not look good.  I struggled up the rope climb (which I had done twice at this point), got to the last knot and stopped. I could not get my legs to pull up. One more knot, and I could hit the bell. I couldn't do it. I was terrified of falling down into the water (we saw someone do it - scary hard fall). It broke my heart to give up and slide down. 30 burpees. Then I hit the horizontal wall - got to the last hand hold and could not get my foot on the last spot. One handhold away from that bell. I tried to throw myself at the bell as I went off, but I just missed it. I actually threw my hands up at the volunteer as if to say "Come on!! I was an inch away!!!" but only got a shake of the head. 30 more burpees. Brent was so gracious to wait and even jump down and do burpees with me. Off we went again.

Through the trails, up up up, around, cargo net (the vasectomy obstacle, the volunteer told us. The net was straight up and down, not your usual inverted V shape. Much harder to get over). Cement block carry, then Barbed wire crawl. Time to put the headlamps on.  May have cried a little at the cold water we were crawling in AGAIN. Took a moment to put a long sleeved shirt on, and we trudged on.

It was getting dark. Hard to see trails, hard on the downhills, hard to see signs directing us which way to go. We got quiet. I mentioned seeing a unicorn. Thought we saw snowflakes. The rain started. We made it to the tractor pull (cement block like thing on a chain) and the poor volunteer just looked at us. "Hey guys, you doing ok? You need anything? Food, fuel?" Brent gave him the "We're great!" and I couldn't even form words I was so cold. I wanted to steal his jacket, but the poor guy looked cold himself, standing there in the rain. he knew we were not making the cutoff. I think it surprised him when Brent just trudged up and picked up the block and headed up with it. I grabbed one and followed. Brought them back down, and the guy said "It's only another mile or so to the next stop." He may have said hang in there, keep it up, I don't know. We kept on.

It's pitch black, it's raining, it was scary in the woods. Back up a ski slope. I got very quiet. Brent would peek over his shoulder at me and say "You ok?" and I'd just nod. Then he said "We need to eat something. What have you got?" I said I couldn't eat, I wasn't hungry, etc. He said "You need to eat to keep your body going".  I fished out my baggie of peanuts and ate them while he had a Cliff Bar. he was right, it helped. We kept going. I could not stop shivering. He did everything to keep me motivated. Said to think of one of my running routes; something that was a mile long. We talked about how we could understand how people just kind of give up when they are lost in the wilderness, in the cold. We finally round a corner and can see the area where the traverse/sandbag carry/sled pull were.....the 7pm cut off location. It was 8pm. All that was there was a Spartan truck with it's headlights on, waiting for us. We got in, sat; defeated, cold, wet, miserable. Sad. Happy to be warm. Waited for another group of 4 to come in, then got on a bus and headed back to the start/festival area. Only TRUE regret of the day - leaving the walking sticks in the back of the truck. I wanted to take that thing home, epoxy it, put the date on it, etc.  I HATE that I left it behind. Hate it.

We found Tim, found Shannon, said our goodbye's and headed out as quickly as possible to dry off and warm up. Race was done. No pictures with the Gladiators, no fire jumping shots over the finish line.

That makes for a big old DNF. I prefer to say PFC (pulled from course). We tried. SO many things we could do differently next time - shorter time in transition, less burpees (for me), but I wouldn't trade the experience for anything. No Ultra Beast medal or Ultra Beast t-shirt. DNF. My first. Did I love every minute of it? You bet. Was it the hardest thing I've ever attempted in my life? You bet. 12 hours on the course. 12 fun, hard, entertaining, challenging, fantastically awesome hours. I'd do it again in a heartbeat and can't wait to do so!!! Team Redemption 2013!!!!!!!