World of Cherie

When corporations put on ultramarathons, well, you lose some of the specialness. You don’t get homemade cookies at aid stations, or medals that differ year to year (Hey, they got a good deal on medals years ago…and use the same exact medal for all of their races, regardless of distance.) and lots of newbies without a respect for the trails (I saw one dimwit actually toss his trash INTO the woods, you know, so it didn’t spoil the trail itself.). But still, it can be a fun race.
The temperatures were predicted to be in the 90s all week, so we were getting emails from The North Face reminding us too hydrate. Too bad they didn’t take the severity of the heat into consideration and stock their aid stations with lots of ice. I was a 50miler, and ran a fairly decent time, and still, I found the aid stations to be lacking ice. Cold (esp ice cold) water is absorbed faster than lukewarm water, and we really needed to be on top of hydration on a hot day like race day.
I started out in good spirits, running at a good clip, feeling fairly well. I was jockeying between 3rd and 4th woman for the first ten or so miles…and then my stomach began torturing me. I ran into the bushes, a portapotty, the bushes, the bushes. Oh, what fun. I subsisted on gels and Clif Shot Blocks (tropical bunch flavor, baby). A lot of the food tasted funny or was soggy w the humidity. Yuck. I don’t know why I’m picky when running ultras but I am.
The course consists of running about 2 miles, then doing a lollypop loop, then running out about 6.7 miles without aid stations (which was pretty hard in the afternoon to handle this section with just one bottle of water). Then you do this 7-ish mile loop three times. And then you run back that entire first section.

There’s dirt. Some rocks (inc where I smashed my foot really, really hard the first time – and I ended up taking it super duper easy the rest of the times bc my foot was absolutely throbbing). Some hills. Some heat. Some high grass. Some pretty views of the river.
Well-organized, yes. The special loving touches of an ultra, no. They ran out of ice, ran low on some goods. It seemed like those volunteering at aid stations and buying supplies had never run an ultra. I would get to an aid station and they would want me to fill my own bottle – which normally is fine but not usual but my hand is actually severely and painfully injured with awful tendintis – ouch – so I couldn’t open a bottle. I’d have to ask every time.
I had tummy problems, that smashing the foot problem. The heat wasn’t killing me – but around 42 or 43, I started feeling woozy…I knew it was the heat. I had seen people passing out and not responsive – so I consciously began to walk, dump water on my head, hoping to cool myself down.
I finished – 9:51, a better time than last year, not what I had wanted to do, but quite respectable given the circumstances.
Sweaty stinky mess, yes. And loads of fun. A lot of newbies who didn’t know to pick up their gu wrappers. But what a fun day regardless. Pretty and running is almost always fun.

I wanted to go to Veracruz in Mexico, spend a week exploring beachside towns and doing a little hiking, and heading over to Mexico City to see (and run with!) some friends. Or just go to Austin for the weekend for the Flipside Festival.
 Wayne didn’t want that. He wasn’t sure what he wanted.
And somehow, we ended up in Puerto Rico.
It was a trip where we spent and wasted a lot of money. True, we relaxed, and some of the beaches were nice, but neither of us fell in love with PR. I don’t think we’ll be back.Funny, I had always wanted to explore PR – I have a friend with lots of family there and always thought if I would go, I’d go with her. That would’ve been a very different experience.




Day One:The night before was filled with doubt (“Should we just cancel our tickets?” “I don’t really want to go.”) We got our bags packed and left our house at 4am to catch the morning flight down. We felt sullen, disinterested. As soon as we arrived, we immediately got ripped off by our taxi driver, which put us in a foul mood.We dropped our stuff off at the friendly Andalucia Guesthouse, used their sunblock (Glad they provided it free since I had forgotten to pack it!), and headed to the beach. The beach was nice and Wayne decided he wanted to get his kite stuff. And then he was kiting a long time and I had no sunblock and I became torched. I was in tears when he came in, I was so crispy red. We went back, showered, and Wayne slathered me with aloe. We explored the neighborhood and ate Peruvian food our first day in PR, which felt a little weird.Day Two:We realized we didn’t have anything booked for Vieques. The original plan now was to go to Austin (but we later discovered that was too $$$$ so we couldn’t) at the end of our trip. I was annoyed bc I don’t like wasting time planning this kind of stuff on trips and Wayne was so indecisive so we had figured zero out. I booked a place, then we went to Old San Juan. (Taxi drivers ripped us off in both directions.) Cute, but nothing life-altering. We got frozen yogurt and then headed back to the guesthouse to grab our stuff and go to the beach. Wayne went kiting, I went running and read Trail Runner magazine. (Doesn’t that sound like wonderful beach reading to you?) I wore a shirt because my entire back and butt were crispy burned. Wayne and I got burritos for dinner (mmmmmmm ginger-tamarind margaritas and cinnamon-cranberry margaritas!!!) and bought bathing suits at the surf shop and got some rum and passionfruit juice to drink back at our guesthouse. We chilled in the Jacuzzi and had drinks on the balcony.Day Three:Ran on the beach, during which some idiot stole my flipflops. I was so pissed. I have been to places much more dangerous and impoverished, yet here in San Juan I get my flipflops stolen? My favourite and oh-so- comfy. We got breakfast, then I bought new flipflops at the surf shop, Wayne rented a too-expensive car (WTF $40 a day for insurance?!?!) and we headed to el Yunque. It was a pretty rainforest but it was raining and it was paved (WTF?) and it was crowded. Wayne’s back hurt and it was slippery. We were a  cheery bunch indeed. Then we hopped back in the car, had some pretty roads to drive back on, and arrived in Fajardo. We got a hideous lunch at a horrific bakery and then hopped on the super-crowded, late-leaving ferry, where they made all the tourists wave in a separate line so the locals could board first. You couldn’t wait on the outside part of the ferry because the waves were so rough. There were a million cops, apparently because there had been 15 murders in the past 3 months (drug-related). Finally, our ride ended and we lugged our suitcase and kite bag off the ferry and up to Casa de Amistad.Our hosts were super friendly. We were immediately at ease. After we settled in, we headed to Al’s Mar Azul for Mexican dinner – which was fantastic, as were the pina coladas. We sat right on the water, trying out the different hot sauces, relaxing a little bit, finally.We wandered around the town, pretty quiet, empty. We were staying in Isabel Segunda.Day Four:An early morning run. I ran out on 200, felt like crap, rain pouring down, dogs chasing me, horses wild on the roads, a little bizarre. I headed back, showered, and we discussed what we should do. No idea.We ate breakfast at Buen Provecho where a surly expat insulted me about my wrist brace. WTF. Then we booked ourselves on a bio-bay tour for the night, and rented bikes for the day. We packed water, granola bars, towels, sunblock, and headed out.Our ride was hilly and tough, and cars came whipping around the corners. And then it began pouring and we were going to the beach…misery.So what do you do when it rains on the beach? You go and get cocktails. We ended up at Bananas, drinking Chocolate Banana Mudslides and Pina Coladas…and eating….and drinking, and chatting w the expats.Day Five:Go running. I get chased by dogs the entire time, growling, ready to attach dogs. Hop in the back of a pick-up truck to get past the worst of the dogs. Freaking frightening. At one point, a dog jumps over a fence and began chasing me. The other dogs that didn’t jump barked like crazy. I went insane, screaming and threatening to throw a rock and charging at the dog. I don’t know how I got out of there. So scary. I was shaking when I finished my run.Rent a yellow Jeep which turns out to be held together with duct tape. Take off the roof and drive around like maniacs…drive down bouncy roads, to desolate secluded beaches. Branches falling in our car. Snorkel. Drive down to the abandoned and freaking scary deserted military bunkers. Stopped by random spots. Scary bumpy crazy roads, is this even safe?Day Six:Flat fire. Return the car, get a new one. More beaches. Beach, beach, beach. Go to the Sol Food truck for delicious lunch And then Wayne of course wants to go kite surfing and we can’t find where to go or is the wind just bad?And then…two flat tires. Someone driving by calls the rental car place bc we don’t even know the name of the road we’re on. Then the cops come and wait w us, telling us the road is really dangerous bc it is “solitary” and there are lots of “stoned” people. Then the cops wait, they have to go. “Stay in your car w the doors locked.” Um great. Finally the car people came, put on two new tires and we drove back to town. “I want to return this car now,” Wayne said, but we just chilled out in town.
Day Seven:
Up early. Run and a pina colada with breakfast. Return the car. Hop on the miserably crowded ferry, ridiculously delayed and stuffy and stinky. Wayne and I hop into our waiting rental car and drive it to San Juan.
Beach. Kite surfing for Wayne. Relaxing….
Day Eight:
Beach. Run. Beach. Kite surfing for Wayne.
I call JetBlue to see if we can change to the earlier flight. We throw all our stuff in our bags, head to the airport and get on the earlier flight, thank goddess.
Vacation is over.

We were so happy to be home….

In the past few weeks, I’ve done some short races. I stopped doing short races as much, mainly because it was depressing to go from my faster days (PRs include 19minute 5k, 38minute 10k, 1:35 half) to  be a slow ultrarunner. But I guess I’m not as slow as I thought…with the Ray K inspired goal of “having the most fun” I ran some pretty decent races in the recent weeks.
Brooklyn Half Marathon1:37Not bad. Wearing a multi-coloured tutu, I set out to have heaps of fun. Knowing I had run a 50k the week before (and a 50miler the week before that!), I figured I’d be slow and set a goal of sub 1:50- and I ended up running 1:37. With high fives, smiles, I could not believe how good I felt…almost like I could run that exact distance at the same pace. Not bad…and with a fun beach party to follow!

Ice Cream Social 10k43:58Not bad either. Wayne noticed the name of the race in the NYC Runs Twitter feed and I immediately remembered the fabulously-named race – and decided to run it, despite the fact that I was still in an airport and wouldn’t get home until midnight. Oh well. I slept in until 8am, run about 4 miles to the start, ran the 10k with a giant smile, ate an ice pop, and ran back home. LOTS of fun but taking my inhaler wasn’t so much fun. Oh, and got 1stin my age group, snagging a sweet trophy.
Wall Street Heart 3 Miler21:05Two days before a 50miler, no packing done, too many things on my mind, and way too hot, on a really windy and crowded course, I came out…and ran quite a respectable pace.


What’s different? I’m doing a lot more speed workouts with Ray K training me, and with less pressure of “I MUST PR OR MY LIFE SUCKS,” I have been running at fun paces. Also, running in cute outfits always pushes me. Ha!

Greenbelt 50k might be a week after Bear Mountain 50 Miler, but it's only a short trip away, AND not too far from my parents (Okay, so it's probably not THAT close, not that much further than to my house....), why not? Good trails, fun times, let's do it!

I got out there and the skies were grey and we thought, "Maybe the weather will hold out?" They were predicting rain. Lots of it. And just before we started, it began to rain. Yuck. Rain=chafing. And grossness.

I was wondering as I ran, at how I smelled so hideous. Why did the rain make me smell horrendous? UGH.

The course is a lot of fun - you do a short out and back on roads - about 2 miles. Then you do two out-and-backs on this nice trail. It's fairly runnable - lots of short steep ups and downs, lots of roots, some road crossings (including the annoyingly busy Jericho Turnpike), but pretty, single-track, lots of flowers in bloom, green bushes everywhere, and a nice view of the Sound when you get far enough north. Three aid stations, fairly basic, but with those delicious butter cookies you get in those blue tins. YUM! I'll run faster with those in my belly!

I started out pretty hard, 8 and 9 minute miles, feeling good. The hills can kick your butt, and with the rain, some were a lot slicker than I would've liked. I got lost twice early on, losing a few minutes, but what's a few minutes in a 50k? A few extra minutes FUN!

I was pouring sweat in the gross rain and humidity and feeling pretty disgusting. I kept my food intake low - I had 5 gels and a bunch of those delicious butter cookies and a small bit of watermelon. 

When I went out for my second out-and-back, it began POURING. Raining cats and dogs and rhinos, as I like to say. I joked with passing runners, "I forgot my lifevest," and "Nice day for a swim." It was miserable and I grew cold and worried I'd get cold. But then it stopped and everything began to be a lot better.

Crossing Jericho Turnpike SUCKED. I ended up dancing as I ran across, partially bc I had Madonna's "Hung Up" in my head, partially because I was hoping if I danced, the cars might stop.

They did.

The last few miles I hammered it. I WANTED TO BE DONE. I ran on the roads to get to the finish, pushing like a maniac. There were cars, but I was finishing.

And then I did...across the finish line. Quite a bit slower than last year, but my PF was hurting a lot, and my asthma sucked every uphill....so keeping a fast pace was really hard. Or as fast as I wanted.

I baby-wiped it up, and put deodorant and lotion and a change of clothes on. And then I really lived it up Long Island-style...I spent the afternoon shopping w my mom (who was there to cheer me on at my finish) at a giant mall named after a poet. FUN!

I run North Face Endurance Challenge Bear Mountain 50 Miler because it is nearby to me, because I love Bear Mountain, and because it challenges me. I am not the strongest technical runner, but I do it for these reasons. Oh and tons of my friends run it, so it basically feels like a big party. Run a little faster, run with one friend. Slow down, run with another.

I had a lot of fun during the race due to running with a lot of awesome people, especially Amy who I met during Traprock. I also spent time meeting other awesome runners, like Caitlyn from Boston/now Costa Rica, and Ashley from Brooklyn, and Justin who became part of the Pain Train. It was a lot of fun.

But unfortunately, my asthma sucked on every single uphill. I sounded like a 2-pack-a-day smoker wheezing on all the uphills. I sucked on my inhaler 20 times (instead of the 2-4 times I normally would take it). I normally don't run with my inhaler, because usually my lungs behave while running but not today. Misery. And also, my plantar fasciatis was hurting on the road sections and any super duper rocky section. Uber fun.

But despite all the suckiness and the pain, I still had fun.

The field was the absolute biggest it's ever been - I almost passed out when picking up my number when I discovered they had over 500 people signed up and there would be two waves. WHAT?! But the waves really helped smooth things out and it was a little less crowded than last year, honestly - at the beginning in the tight spots anyway.

Early on, before we made the first turnoff on a steep uphill, an arrow at an earlier spot confused the hell out of me and I lost a few minutes trying to figure it out. I saw all the ribbons ahead, but why was an arrow pointing left if everything else indicated straight? I didn't rest until I got to the first aid station. And then after the first aid station, I had a particularly rugged awful climb down, from rock to rock being uber careful...and a bunch of people took a shortcut, saving them a minute or two (which I know because no one was within seeing distance when we began the climb). So a few spots could be better marked, but really, most of the course was exceptionally well marked.

The aid stations were very, very basic - electrolyte drink, water, coke, pretzels, chips, M&Ms. (No ginger ale or cookies, the horrors!) Oh but the volunteers were nice, especially a certain boyfriend of mine (I love you, Wayne!) who was at the Mile 20 aid station. Yay! He was in charge of telling people they missed the cut-off which sucked a lot - apparently, someone started crying and he felt awful telling her she couldn't go on.

The course is super technical. One of the most technical race courses I have ever been on. After, we were talking about how if this had been a 100miler, it would've had a much higher DNF rate b/c you are so tired, it's hard to not be clumsy and trip. I saw a lot of people turning around, walking back, limping, towards the aid stations from the opposite direction - people who had went out but tripped, hurt themselves. One guy seemed pretty despondent around mile 34 - "But I think this is the best decision." We agreed.

It was rather warm - 74. My one bottle, which normally was fine here, was a little rough and I found myself running out of water between aid stations.

I ran much of the race with Amy. We complained together, chatted, WTF on yet another hill/stream crossing/climbing over a tree in the middle of the trail. We laughed, talked about nothing, about mint juleps, that sort of thing. We had so much fun that it didn't feel as miserable as it easily could have been. It was actually fun, when I wasn't sucking down on Albuterol.

The course is longer, and according to everyone's GPS's, and more time between aid stations than promised. Apparently, Wayne said people were relying on their GPS's and ended up DNFing b/c you would be told "This aid station is at this mile" and your GPS would show you two miles more when you arrived....So it was a bit of a challenge in that way.
Drop bag fun...there's a brownie in here!
We started a pain train in the 30s. I led it, followed by Amy, Justin, and some others. It was just a follow the leader, I set the pace (I offered others to do it but everyone refused) and we complained abt the mud and water and stream crossings and rocks and hills and running and everything, and laughed and told jokes and chatted and at one point, we all went, "Choo chooo." A fun pain train.
Crackers, the key to running success!
I arrived at 40 feeling shot. My dream of sub 11 was clearly impossible and I felt depressed. Wayne was fully dressed in running gear with a "PACER" bib. Ummmm....you have been injured since December and haven't run more than a mile at a time and you want to run 10 miles with me, including the hardest up and down of the course? Sure, that sounds smart. I drank some coconut water, got yelled at by a volunteer for sitting in the middle of the course (What? It's an aid station? Whatever.) and then Wayne and I left, with Amy and her boyfriend shortly afterwards.

I felt like hell. I just was miserable. There were a ton of French Canadians we were running with, and Frankie from Queens. (We knew his name because his extremely cheerful and motivating pacer kept yelling, "C'mon, Frankie, you can do this!") Up down rock up down down down up up up up turn twist. 

I met lots of great people, and love the aid station with the crazy theme that is sponsored by Van Cortlandt Track Club. I was bonking majorly and forced down a gel. 

Timp pass. Inhale that albuertol. And again.

The uphill sucks. You climb forever, go across, then climb some more. And then you go down. And some of the down is comprised of these horrendous loose rocks that you just can't run on b/c you slip and slide and it's just terrible. Oh well. And then that other aid station and then you can run hard to the finish. Wooohooo.

Sadly I felt so miserable but I was having fun. It was a pain train, with me and Wayne and Amy and her boyfriend Rob.

I wanted to be done. I was miserable - I knew it would be over four hours slower than my last 50 miler - yes, the course was much, much harder but UGH.

And then - we were coming in. People were cheering. I took off, faster, and Wayne dropped, "I couldn't keep up." I got a medal which promptly became dirty from my filthy self, and Glenn gave me a waterbottle. Then I began cramping up and hugged Amy and sat down in the grass, shivering and cramping, waiting to cheer John Budge to his finish.

Fun, yes. Well-organized, yes. Crowded, a little. Painful, yes. But oh-so-fun!

Before the Lake Waramug Race, I stretched, worried, taped my foot, rolled out the pain, tapered excessively and ran way shorter distances than planned.

"I don't even know if I can do the 50k," I said, fretting. I had signed up for the 50miler but decided to drop to the 50k...and wasn't even sure I could complete that. I was sad.

So I prepped myself. I told my friends I might not even make it past the 50k. I packed a bag with my kindle crammed full of books, my Spanish verb exercise books (Hey, if I couldn't run an ultra at least I finally might be able to understand the subjunctive? Maybe? Okay, probably not...), and a book about the horrific war in Bosnia by Janine diGiovanni. And some letters to writer and some Spanish exercises...and warm clothes...and hello Mary Harvey packed brownies, why the hell would I run if I could sit and read and eat brownies?

Tony kept telling me I should just do the 50 miler with him, but he knew about the pain I've been feeling - esp with pavement. I didn't want to mess myself up for the slew of races I have ahead - Bear Mtn 50 miler in two weeks, followed by Greenbelt 50k, followed by Brooklyn Half, and then a week off, then North Face DC 50 miler, then pacing at San Diego 100, then pacing at Great NY Running Expedition, then Finger Lakes 50, then Vermont 100, then Moosalamoo 36 Miler, then Burning Man 50k...then summer is over. So a lot of running! And I'd rather not do something stupid and mess my summer of fun up!

I was a bundle of nerves at the start. Actually, I was more like depressed. I chatted with Erin and Mary, who were bubbly and pantless (they were wearing skirts!), and I was freezing and refused to take off my pink zebra striped leggings. This day was going to suck if I dropped. Wayne had pitied me and told me if I dropped really early, he'd make the drive up to CT to fetch me. I had visions of crying the car ride home.

But it didn't happen like that.

Tony and I started off easily, chatting, with Tony complaining we were going too fast and me feeling like this lake went on FOR-E-VER! But it was really pretty - the course was asphalt, running on the side of the road with most of the cars slowing down and driving in the other lane. There were rolling hills, you know, slight up and downs, nothing too terrible. We walked the hills in the later laps, mainly to slow down our speed, give ourselves some time to recover and do something different, and omg, it felt so freaking good just to walk up a hill here and there.

The course also had incredible aid. So you do a 2.2 mile out (and then there's an aid station) and come back 2.2 miles. Then you do a bunch of loops and maybe an out-and-back depending upon your distance. But each loop is 7.6 miles - and each loop has the awesome main aid station, plus three others. Carl Hunt, I have a crush on you. The first aid station I usually didn't stop at, except once to grab pretzels and once to beg for ginger ale (which they didn't have). The second aid station - I think I want my wedding one day to be staged here. Hello! Grilled cheese! Pumpkin pie! What else do you need? Oh yeah ginger ale and some red or blue Gatorade. Pretzel slims! I was in heaven. Tony and I stopped talking to each other in order to cram as much in our mouths as possible. I love this race. And then it was the really cold and windy and sucky and hilly part of the race and then ANOTHER aid station. Mmmm pretzels and ginger ale and GO!

I started out feeling pretty unsure...what could I do? What should I do? Tony was pretty chipper and full of cheer...we chatted about life, races, friends, whatever else. Tony only made me stop to laugh hysterically like a hyena once. I laughed other times like a hyena but I only stopped once.

My foot began hurting, not a lot, but some. I really didn't want to quit, I didn't want to quit. It was around mile 9. I decided I'd try to at least do a 50k.

"C'mon Cherie, do the 50 miler, c'mon, c'mon."

"You know I want to...I just don't want to hurt myself more."

I ate vanilla gus as we ran, gawked at the pretty houses, laughed, drank water, suffered.

And then I missed the 50k turnaround.

"I'll stay with you the rest of the way," Tony promised.

I gritted my teeth. My foot wasn't hurting as much.

The second-to-last loop, Tony was calculating pace. "Cherie, you can def PR. As long as we keep up this pace--"

"Shut up, shut up, I don't know what will happen!"

The last lap -- "Cherie, I think I'm gonna PR. Oh!"

We could both PR? Insane!

We took a walk break. Even before we started walking, Tony was moaning about how amazing it felt. "This is better than sex," I told him. "Right now, I def want this instead of sex." It felt that good. Seriously.

We pushed it. I pushed it. Tony pushed it. We were hurting but --

oh
my
god
we
both
PR'd!

Tony smashed his Pineland Farms 50miler PR of 8:47 and I kicked my PR of 9:05 -- to 8:31!!!!!

We finished crossing the line together! I was third woman (1min10seconds behind the second place woman). We changed, scarfed some food, and I felt amazing. So high. I couldn't believe that I had PR'd when I thought I was incapable of doing 19 miles less...

My books remained unread that day, but they'll get read. The race - well, that was run, in the best possible way!

It was SO much fun last year, I decided to do it again!

It was hilly, it was rocky, it was rooty. The RD is great - Steve Nelson - and the people are great, friendly, and fun.

I headed out, planning on running a relatively easy race. I had run a half marathon, then a 24 hour, then a 3 hour, and now this. And I had a 50miler scheduled the next weekend. 

I drove up with Scott, Glenn and Will, and had a fun ride. My boyfriend tried to make it like he was being nice in picking me up from the race. (Him: "I'll give you a ride home." Me: "But I have a ride home." Him: "I want to see you finish." (Note, he did not do this; he arrived almost an hour after picking me up.) The real reason - he wanted me to go to dinner at his parents'.)

I started out too hard, like an idiot with asthma, duh. You can't sprint straight up hills when you have asthma. I have to start races SLOW. The initial climb up sucks a lot, but whatever, you deal with it. Lots of rocks, roots, look down the entire time. Then you have a "Stairway to Heaven" section - where I couldn't remember the tune to this song as I climbed the rocky stairs so I had Eric Claptop "Tears in Heaven" in my head instead. Bizarre.

I met a really nice woman, Amy, from Long Island. We had some similar races, and quickly bonded, talking about work, life, running, the usuals. We ended up running much of the race together and finishing together. Woooohooo!

I'm literally on the verge of tears. Been like this since I found out. Goosebumps on my arms. 

My marathon PR is from Boston - 3:28.

I cannot believe someone ruined something so beautiful and wonderful. Why? Why hurt innocent spectators and runners? Why?

We cannot hurt and use hate to control the world. We need to use love.

Run love...

So glad I didn't even attempt to get into Boston this year.

I love runs without pressure. Without the need for anything to be accomplished other than have fun. 

Saturday's three hour was a lot of fun. I had some pain at times and had a fairly decent page, but nothing too crazy. Yes, I pushed hard at the end, but mostly, I figured I'd do whatever and life would be good. And best of all, I had a friend who believed in me and pushed me to win.

Yesterday, I headed up to Bear Mountain with Iliana, Georgia, JT, Beth, and Kristen. We had a little too much fun running, getting lost, looking at maps, hiking, eating pretzels, getting lost, laughing, getting lost...it was a good time. We planned on sticking together, having time on our feet, and having fun.

Sometimes, having fun is the most important thing.

Really, always it is.

I was bitterly disappointed that my cousin scheduled his wedding on the same day as the Umstead 100 Miler. (Who does that? Really? Well duh, he's not an ultrarunner!) Family's first, so I spent the night drinking vanilla martinis and pina coladas and watching Gram dance to Gangnam Style (a moment I will never forget for the rest of my life!) instead of going to bed early (and no, Ray K's idea of "Just have Wayne drive you down post-wedding didn't work...esp since the wedding ended at 1am and Umstead started at 6am - a 10 hour drive away).

Then I found that Broadway Ultra Society was having a three AND a six hour run. SCORE! Okay, so we would be an hour from the start by the wedding, but Wayne would not get up at 6am to drive me to be there at 8am for the six hour start. Okay, okay. So I'll have another martini. Instead, we slept in until 8am, got ready, did some family stuff, and then drove over to the 3 hour.

I def felt those martinis - and no, I was not drunk or did not have THAT much to drink anyway. But normally I don't have that much...and I get a little more sleep.

So I decided, "I'll do the 3 hour easy. Just relax, run with my friends." Erin and Gabriel were running the 6 hour (and both did awesome, Erin got 11th woman and got a nice trophy and Gabriel also got a trophy and is a total animal for coming back after not having run for WEEKS due to his appendix being removed!). And Emmy was there so we started off and began chatting easily - catching up, talking about what friends were doing, wondering how Tony was doing in Umstead, our training, our families, our lives, the usual stuff, just having fun. And I felt tired, yes, but soon, the miles flew by and the time.

At the start, Emmy was saying, "You are going to win this," and I said, "Please, I ran 24 hours last weekend and went to a wedding last night, so no thank you." Towards the end, Emmy said, "Cherie, you're going to win." I told her, no, another woman was in the lead - and I pointed her out.

"Cherie, you can get her! GO! GO CHERIE! GO, fast, GO GO GO GO GO!" 

And I took off. I was somehow pushing hard the last four minutes, and I passed the first place woman. Emmy was somewhere behind me, which I didn't realize but ultimately, Emmy took second. I finished, and as my poor feet were tired, I sat down. Then a bunch of dogs began barking like crazy, so I moved over, sat down, and began catching up with Trishnul about running and races and training and herbs and all sorts of things.

Then we went back to the gazebo. I was pleased to learn, not only had I won first place woman in the 3 hour, but I won the Grand Prix Award for the races last year (that GLIRC and BUS put on, with NY Ultrarunning) - first for women 30-39. Pretty sweet, I got a nice plaque. And then I ate a bunch of pizza and made Wayne go shopping at Home Goods and then I went home. Ahhh....

I didn't have a lot of time and wasn't feeling good. I ran to the gym and began lifting weights. I went to the first "fat thigh" machine (that's what I call it; it's great for strengthening hip and IT and muscles) and then moved on to the next. A much older lady sat down on the seat I had just vacated.

"Oh my. Oh my. Did you really do all of this?"

I had the weights set to over 200 pounds. I nodded.

"That's amazing. That really is. But you need to be careful, not to do too much. I don't do too much. But I'm glad I can."

She began telling me - she had worked in the schools as an aide, never had any time until ten or fifteen years ago when, in her early seventies, she retired. Her children were all raising their own kids, and now, without a job, without children, she had time to pursue her own interests. In her eighties now, she went to the gym several times a week, to lift, use the various cardio machines, go to the aqua-aerobics classes.

"I am so impressed. That's incredible," I told her. Eighties and going to the gym.

She asked me what kind of working out I did. I admitted I liked to run a lot.

"Now, don't do too much. Those marathons..."

"Well, I don't exactly do marathons. I've done them before."

"They're too much. People get hurt."

I told her I run 50 milers, 100 milers, 24 hours. She seemed stunned.

"I don't get hurt. I pull back. The second something doesn't feel good - I stop. I'm not using that machine," I said, pointing to a hamstring strengthening machine, "because I hurt my hamstring months ago and it's still not strong enough to lift that. I don't have a problem stopping, and that's why. If you stop the first sign - you often don't get a second sign."

We went back to my racing and she asked me questions. Then she said, "You're an inspiration. You really are."

I blushed. "No, you are an inspiration. I hope when I'm your age, I'm still doing it."

She smiled and I had to leave, go to work, to the grind. But it's hard to leave the active world, where we all inspire each other.

So a radical leftist ultrarunner heads to an army base to run a .995 mile loop course for 24 hours. What could be more fun?
It was an absolute blast.
GUTS put on an awesome race, Operation Endurance 24 hour (with 12 and 6 hour options too). The aid was amazing – some of the best I’ve had at an ultra. Aid stations featured water and powerade (which I mixed with water) and it was really nice to not have to carry a bottle. The food included pizza, grilled cheese, quesadillas, soups, mashed potatoes, Easter treats, the usual snacks, cookies, chips, pretzels, gummy bears, Moon pies, hamburgers, and so much more. It really was really a fantastic selection and I never felt like they didn’t have what I wanted or needed at any given moment.
The course is flat, almost a mile. It’s soft dirt with some small crushed gravel (not really gravel but those tiny little rocks) and was really nice to run on. Some people complained of slippage, but I thought it was a soft surface and my feet under the toes on the ball did not hurt one tiny bit. Wooooh!
It’s also completely lit up so you don’t need to wear a headlamp which is wonderful. There are port-a-potties RIGHT next to the course (which was great so you didn’t waste time going to the bathroom, unless you were having kidney issues which are another thing). There were cots to nap on under a tent, rows of tables under tents (so your stuff wouldn’t get wet) with seats, seats, glorious seats. There was plenty of spot to set up a table, a tent, arrange your stuff. The course had trees and bushes around part of it, with a little creek/water area. I saw an armadillo, several deer, tadpoles, and saw some other animal I couldn’t identify.
Interesting, fun, and a great race.
The only negative I’d say is that it is completely exposed so you will get very sunburned if you’re not careful/a Northerner. I could really feel the heat – it got into the 70s.
I started the race a little fast. Um, a lot fast. Wait, wtf am I running sub 8s? I slowed down and ended up getting in a groove with a nice guy, Hong. We ran 8:30s. STILL too fast.
My tummy felt off from the start – never a good thing. I ran with Hong for a few hours and then decided to slow things down. I kept running, but slowed the pace. And began feeling even crappier way too soon.
So I backed off. I began drinking more – a mixture of powerade and water. I felt like hell, my legs felt like crap, and I just felt exhausted.
Now, please note – from Monday – Friday before the race, I had been sick with what I realize was some sort of virus or minor flu – exhaustion, sore throat, headaches, achiness. I went home from work early Monday and Thursday, took a half sick day from Tuesday (and worked a few sporadic hours from bed) and worked at home Wednesday. Thursday I felt like utter crap. (Don't tell Ray K this - he'll say, "I've changed lots of babies' diapers and you don't feel like crap.") I was feeling a lot better by Friday but was still taking medicine and feeling pretty wiped out. Friday night before the race I slept over eight and a half hours and slept an hour and a half in the car – and I was STILL tired. So I definitely was not in top shape to run a race. I should have taken a more conservative approach, incorporating more walk breaks early on. With a flat course, it’s hard to find an excuse to walk. Later in the race, I’d stop by the aid table, grab a quick snack and walk on through, munching. Or walk and sip a drink. Or just walk right by there to give my legs something different to feel.
I felt progressively worse. Tears in my eyes worse. I definitely was not running 120+ miles today. My lead was gone and I was now feeling death march-ish.
Enter Ray K to the rescue. He was doing a fast shuffle around the track (The Ray K shuffle is a pace in between a very fast walk and a run.) and would run hard-ish at the mile mark to the quarter mile mark. I joined him and a really nice funny guy Keith for a while, and the combo of walking/running was a lot of fun. We laughed, told stories, and Keith and I developed a rapport of eye and facial expressions about Ray’s stories. Ray told us stories abt Gary Cantrell (aka Lazarus Lake), Barkley Marathons, Fred Lebow, Ted Corbitt, Jimmy Carter, duct tape on socks and ER visits, and other interesting ultrarunning tales. It was a lot of fun and I was honestly sad when Keith finished the 12 hour. I missed him.
I began running again more. I felt like utter crap and talked to Ray. I was thinking I’d just tell Scott I was done and go back to his house and sleep. Scott had come out to do the 12 hour as a Keys 100 Test Race and realized he wasn’t trained enough and ready enough for Keys – so he dropped shortly after 6 hours and was chilling with friends, waiting for me. Scott was actually the reason I was there. He kept nudging me with Facebook messages about what a great PR course it was, how I could go 120 miles there, how it was so much fun. And once my Umstead 100 plans were thwarted by my cousin’s wedding, it would be a substitute race. And when I found out Vikena was putting it on and Ray K would be there, icing on the cake.
But I wasn’t feeling good. My whole body was aching. My feet were especially swollen. I was hallucinating like crazy – whenever I looked at the track, instead of footprints I would see fossils and hieroglyphics and Mayan carvings and sea shells and sea creatures. When I’d close my eyes (even as early in the race as a few hours in), I would see black with neon-glowing lines. When I went into the port-a-potty, the walls felt like they were closing in on me. I’ve never done acid, but from the descriptions from friends, this is probably what it is like. (And honestly, it FREAKED me out and why would you want to feel that?)
Ray said, “Why don’t you use this as a test run? Test out different methods and shoes and foods and stuff. Why don’t you try to lay down for a few hours and see if you feel better? If you don’t, you can just leave.”
That sounded smart. I was feeling like hell and I didn’t see how things could change. I put in another few laps and settled down on one of the cots with a sleeping bag provided by Scott at 14 hours.
I was cold. My body hurt.My mind was too awake. I kept seeing images. I shifted, tossed and turned. I had taken off my shoes and had my feet slightly elevated. I heard the slam-slam-slam of the port-a-potty doors, heard chatter. I couldn’t sleep. I realized I can never do a multiday b/c I just can’t fall asleep during a race. I even have trouble after. When my body is in that much pain, it is hard for me to shut off.
After less than an hour (and Ray’s suggestion was 2hrs-3.5 hrs), I decided, “Screw this. I cannot sleep.” And I felt a burst of energy. Afraid Ray would dissuade me, I quickly pulled on my socks and sneakers. And then I grabbed a grilled cheese. Mmmmmmm. One of many delicious grilled cheeses I would eat. I grabbed my headphones, which I never run with except at night during 24 hours. (It gives me energy when I’m falling asleep. I do pull off an ear bud whenever I pass a runner to say hi but many of the army dudes in the race didn’t do the same thing so you’d be talking to them and they wouldn’t hear you.)
And BOOM, I was GONE. I took off. People were staring at me. “Wasn’t she just sleeping?” “She has been in terrible shape for a while and now, wow!” (Well, that’s what I assume they were thinking.)
When I passed Ray, he was a little shocked.
I put in some good mileage. Ray told me that the 2ndplace woman was dropping with 75 miles. “You just gotta keep putting in miles and you’ll move up there.” And a little while later, the first place woman left the track, feeling hellish. (At the start she had said, “I hear we have similar time goals. We should run together.” And I thought that sounded great. Too bad our high and low points were not coordinated or we could have cheered each other on.)
The hours somehow passed. I divided 24 hour races up into four six-hour segments which helps me mentally handle it better. The last 8 hours – “This is less than a regular workday!” And the time flew.
I walked with Ray K. I realized walking hurt more than running, so I ran. I ran and walked. I finally came in an hour before, with Scott who went out on the course to find me.
“Yes, you’re first place woman. 86 laps. Second place is 84.”
Scott and I set out for two more laps. My feet were so swollen and spotted with heat rash and covered with blisters that I changed into socks and Birkenstocks. We chatted and it was so cheering to finish a race with a friend.
I finished and ran through the finish line with hands in the air, huge smile on my face. Vikena gave me a dog tag instead of a medal (Nice concept for a race on a military base.) and being 1st woman, I got an awesome North Face backpack  embroidered with “Operation Endurance 24 Hour.”
I was so happy. Scott drove up his car onto the track and we packed things up and we found an IHOP. It was one of the best meals I have ever had – it tasted wonderful. I was starving of course. As I will be for the next two days.
Overall – a fantastic race. Well-organized, great support, super friendly people, free butt slaps during the race, big clocks to countdown. I highly recommend it and yeah, I’ll probably be back.

I run with Tony a lot. Sometimes, I'll even go as far to get up at 4am, hop on the first train upstate, just to run 10 miles with Tony on beautiful trails. Wayne thinks it's a bit much, but it's like hanging out with a friend, running, enjoying scenery (and complaining abt snow) and seeing deer. Not what I'd get in the city.

Tony mentioned the Sleepy Hollow Half Marathon, and I saw a sign for it on our run one day. He mentioned it again. And then Georgia mentioned wanting to do it, so yeah, I'll sign up. And then we got a crew, of the three of us plus Beth and Cortney.

Beth and Corntney and I hopped on a slightly-later-than-normal train and Tony picked us up at North White Plains. We debated over how many layers to run and ran nice and and easy to the race start with Georgia, who met us in the lot. We shivered at the start, waited in line for port-a-potties, and headed out on the run.

My plan was to run easy - have a steady pace. We kept a sub 8:30 pace (on average, some of the hills slowed us down at parts). Tony and I had a conversational pace, chatting, talking about races, friends, runs, etc. He kept saying "eh" and I kept teasing him that Ray Zahab was instilling some Canadian in him. I had just spent a week w my Canadian coworkers so their language was really floating around my head too.

Towards the end, my feet started hurting. I've been wrestling with some weird foot pains - primarily when I race on roads - and it kicked in around mile 9 or 10. Tears in my eyes. But whatever, we were just chilling, having fun.

We finished in 1:51 - not bad for chilling out, with lots of hills and too much wind.

Tony yelled at me for making him run too fast and then we had to hang around in the cold. We walked around the block and then by that point, met up with everyone else. We ran back, freezing cold, and quickly warmed up. We then warmed up with diner food.


The rest of the week, I've been soaking my feet and hoping my doctor's words about "you need to rest those dogs!" were wrong. I didn't have pain now, but what if - what if? The pain according to my doctor is an inflammation and I need to rest it. Sigh.

And I went into work Monday, not feeling great, but whatever. Finally I ended up leaving around 4pm, blowing off the planned errands. After a wretched commute and rain, I was miserable. I went to bed early and felt horrible in the morning, too horrible to even run a few miles. But I had to go to work! I had to! I ended up working for 2 hours, napping for three, working another 2. And today I feel better, but not heaps. Hopefully this time off from running means this was one kickass taper and I'm ready to KICK ASS Saturday at Operation Endurance!

I hope! I hope! I hope!

Come on, you know you want to run it!!!

Blah blah blah 50k. I somehow PRd, but mainly bc I've mostly run mountain 50ks with the exception of Burning Man where drinking large quantities of alcohol before (along w small quantities during the race) didn't help for a good race. So I PRd at this, but was almost an hour slower than what I hoped for. Oh well. A PR is a PR is a PR.

The plan was to go out at 8min pace. And maintain. Easy, right?

I kept up with that for the first four laps (the laps were 5k each). And then my tummy started feeling wretched and this incredible pain that plagued my feet during the Brooklyn Half started. I cried out to Wayne, who was watching me for some bizarre reason (Love, I suppose...otherwise,why would you go out to an ultra in freezing cold March?) and he got me advil. Normally I don't like to take that sort of thing during a race (It's not a good idea to take NSAIDs during races, but I had tears in my eyes from the pain.). 

Tony caught back up w me and cheered me up. And then I caught up to Mary and we finished together.




I cried at the finish, sad at my misery, how far off I was from my goal. Then I walked out to meet Ray K and chat w him during part of his final lap. Then I got a ride bk to the city with an old school ultrarunner.

And it was a week ago. My legs are tired from a 17+ mile morning run and 11 mile evening run. I would like a nap please. No bed.