Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Trials at Trans Rockies



One of the most challenging and rewarding weeks of my life, this recap goes through all of it from course details, personal thoughts, IV bags, ups, downs, frustrations, blisters, nutrition, camp life, personalities and the questionable mental stability of an ultra runner. Rather than run you through the technicalities of the course and overall standings, I’ve tried to provide an honest account of what I went through this week. To me, course beta is a lot less interesting than the human condition and analysis of our personal trials. After all, we’re all here as mirrors to each other right?
Magi and I didn’t win. We weren’t able to complete the race as a team as she had to drop out on day 4 due to injury. But rather than wallow in self pity, which is what I so badly wanted to do that day as I vowed to quit running altogether, in a not-so-surprising twist of fate, my perspective on life was shifted by an unexpected new friend, and I accomplished something I never thought I could.
My apologies for the lack of pictures. No time to stop.



It was still the beginning of the racing season when my sponsor, Arcteryx, contacted me with an offer for an entry to the Trans Rockies Run. I didn’t even hesitate in responding with an enthusiastic “Of course!”. I had big shoes to fill after Adam Campbell’s incredible performance there last year so after sending the affirmative email, I had a brief moment of panic.

Amy you’re not an ultrarunner. What have you just agreed to? But before I had a chance to talk myself out of it, I started the search for the perfect partner.

I’ve had a lot of running friends over the years. And some of my best friends are the ones I’ve run with, in university, in college, through children, marriage and divorce. The first few years after my twin girls were born, most of my friends knew that if they wanted to see me it was going to have to involve a run. When you’ve only got a couple hours in the day to spare, you’ve gotta multi task. Regardless of speed of the running partners, there’s something about sweating it out through a tough workout that brings you together, bonding over the common pain and ensuing pride in accomplishing what you thought you couldn’t.
But hill workouts, speed work and tempo runs were nothing compared to what I knew I would face on the trails in the Colorado mountains. It goes without saying that any friendship will have to be a strong one to withstand the rigors of blood blisters, aching muscles, extreme fatigue, low blood sugar, delusion and hallucination at times (yes this happened!), success and failure. No matter how beautiful the trails are, when every part of you is in pain and things aren’t going according to plan you need to know that you can make it through and that your partner has the inner strength to do the same.

I’ve been trying to get Magi Scallion to do the Trans Rockies with me for years so when I got the call from Arcteryx, I shot her an email and had a response within a few minutes. Done. Arc’s (Arcteryx) Angels it was. Magi has been through enough in her life and I’ve had enough battles for medals with her on the trails that I know she’s one of the toughest runners out there. So it was decided.

Fast forward through the summer of my marathon in Vancouver, Scorched Soul Ultra, Powderface, Footstock, Crazy Soles and NACAC’s. All baby races compared to the mammoth of a challenge I was getting myself into. I had no idea whether I could actually complete it or not as I have mainly been a 10k runner for most of my life. Not only that, but my pattern around races has been to take a few days off before the race, run balls out, and then take at least a day to recover before I get back into training. There would be none of that at Trans Rockies. It’s 6 days, 113 miles (180 km!), and over 25,000 ft of elevation gain. You don’t get to recover. Every day you get up and run no matter what. No matter what....

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Day 1
I’ve found my tribe! I’m not the only one in this group with ugly feet! And not only that but I can walk around in sandals! Hooray!
The foot situation was just the first of many common bonds I would learn I shared with fellow ultra runners at TR. Others included but were not limited to: questioning of sanity, love of suffering in beautiful places, ability to balance kids, jobs and life and still get out for weekend runs, running on the edge of control down a hill, willingness to stop in the middle of a race if a fellow runner is distressed (something you don’t often see in road races as others hurdle you when you have just eaten pavement), ability to swallow 3 gels, 2 saltsticks and 500ml of water in under 30 seconds and then boot it up a hill while trying not to vomit.

Truly though, I can’t even begin to speak to the respect and admiration I have for all of the people I met last week. I realize we were in a bit of a bubble and were getting some seriously high doses of our addiction - running, mountains, socializing with other great runners, incredible food cooked for us, and all the non alcoholic beer you could ever dream of. It’s pretty hard not to be happy in that crowd. But I don’t think I came across any cranky people all week. Sure there was disappointment and pain and I certainly had my share of tears at some points, but it’s all just so raw. The true essence of life for me.

Ok enough of camp life...

Stage 1: 20 miles, 2721 ft of elevation gain. Start line: Buena Vista Colorado.

I had arrived late the day before, after Adam Chase, master trail runner and social networker extraordinaire was able to save my butt and get me a ride to Buena Vista in time to register and find myself a tent for the night.

The first day at breakfast I had no idea which other womens‘ teams were there. It was great to run into the Banff Trail Trash crowd and veteran TR runners: Leslie, Keith, Tim and Doone. These guys have been through it and have come back for more so it can’t be that bad right? But one of the first things Doone says to me is "Nikki Kimball is here. You won't beat her so don't try. If you don't see her back, you're going too fast". I didn't know who Nikki was but with all due respect to Doone, as soon as someone tells me I can't do something, I decide that I will prove them wrong.

Rewind: Doone and I had battled it out on the Powderface trail together a few months back. She has got to be one of the toughest women I know. And not only that but as I’m running along in the forest, making up all sorts of excuses about why my legs are tired and I’m feeling sick through this race, she pulls up beside me and starts to chat with ease as I’m gasping for oxygen. Here I am thinking I’m entitled to quit because I ran a 50k race a few weeks back and must not have recovered yet, and she says: “Just finished the 100miler so I’m not feeling that great. And off she goes leaving me in her dust. Wow, what a humbling experience. Good practice for Trans Rockies for sure.


The first stage of TR was a grueling hot day. It took me at least an hour to shake the cobwebs from my legs. While I had spent a week in Montanna at altitude, for some reason I just couldn’t find any oxygen in the air that first morning. Poor Magi was feeling great and patiently waited as I battled up the hills. This first hour was a good way to see who was in our field.

By the time we got to the first aid station I finally had my second wind and I was ready to tap into my specialty of letting it go on the downhill. We took a little too long at the aid station so Team Salomon from Quebec blew by and we never saw them again. We did manage to maintain the 2nd place position though, cooking down the hills with ease. The race just seemed to get easier as the day went on. Unfortunately for Magi, the reverse was true. She started out strong but as we pounded through the desert like terrain, her IT band started to tighten up. She battled through until we hit the long home stretch road and then had to slow down. When your body locks up, you make a call; you can fight through it and risk needing a week to recover or you can walk in. Magi is one of the toughest cookies I know so if she’s complaining of pain, you know without a doubt that there is pain. As much as I wanted to turn it on and sprint in the last 4k, I knew we had to be smart about this. We had 5 more days of grueling miles and blowing up the first day would be ridiculous just to be 2nd. It was tough to be passed in the last 2k by 3 other open women’s teams but as a member of a team I had to put my ego aside. Finish line soak in the river, watermelon and plenty of fluid. Now, can I do that 5 more times?


Once you get back to camp, the cold beer (mmm... all the taste with none of the calories or alcohol) and chips, fruit, Cliff bars at the Salomon tents beckons. As there is no formal lunch, I had opted to bring Vega Sport Performance protein so I was always sure I could get in some quality recovery fuel. I take it everywhere so I know I’m always covered. Ice bath and a warm shower and you’re human again.
Cheers to Karen and Damian from (http://icoolsport.com/index.php) who so brilliantly positioned the ice baths in front of the shower house... way to keep us in the tub longer as we gazed at the shirtless men coming and going. :) A little nap, a little reading of “Born to Run” for inspiration and before you know it it’s dinner time. Cowboy caterers are my new heros. I’m not sure how you guys made such incredible, clean food for 300+ of us but whatever you do, keep doing it. You fueled us all week!
After dinner, the TR team presents the photo and video recap of the day as well as the virtual beta for the next day’s stage.

The first night we sat down for dinner, unknowingly, beside Max and Andy. “How was your race today guys?” “Not bad, they reply”. It took until the awards started for us to find out that they had won the entire race. Humble people here. There’s no bragging or self endorsement. Like I said, quality.

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Day2
Vicksburg to Twin Lakes Dam. 13.5 miles, 3617 ft of climbing.

Mental note: next time I do Trans Rockies, bring ear plugs. What are the chances that in a group of 300 tents packed into a field together that you’re not going to hear snoring... or worse than the PG13 version I can describe here? Needless to say not a great sleep but for me, waking up in fresh mountain air at 8500ft is better than a soft bed in a house in a city any day.
Having a vague sense of what I’m in for, I try to eat just enough to fuel for the day without putting so much in that my body will be digesting rather than sending energy to my muscles. Always a delicate balance.

We hop the shuttle and drive into the canyon where the Leadville 100 race had taken place just days ago. Today, we climb to Hope Pass: elevation: 12,580ft. Cold start line, long lineups for the bathrooms. Sunshine and crisp air. A quick sprint along a road before an insanely steep and grueling climb up to hope pass. We crested in 2nd place but the technical descent was painful after Magi’s IT band injury from the day before so we slowed down a bit. While the distance was a shorter 13 miles, it was a grueling day. After a technical descent and a rolling trail beside the Twin Lakes dam, we finished in 3d place with a time of 2:47:08, 14 minutes behind the leaders and 9 minutes behind 2nd place. I will have to go back to admire the view some day.

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Day 3
Leadville to Camp Hale. 24 miles, 2737ft of climbing.

Unable to reach Natalie and Jasmine by phone for more than 4 days now, the morning just started off on the wrong foot. I had purposely left my cell and computer at home so that I could focus on the race, but talking to my kids is something we do every few days. This blog is about real life, and what goes into racing and I have to tell you that when I have to fight to talk to my kids it makes it tough to fight on the trails. So after a few private tears, I pound another cup of coffee and head to the start line.

Just an hour earlier, I had walked by a woman crying while talking on her cell. Something about a hip. I had felt so compelled to hug her, but probably more to give myself permission to cry than anything. I just wanted to share her moment of pain. As I found out a few days later, it was Martin Gaffuri’s partner, Caitlin Nelson, who got on a plane that morning after calling it quits due to injury. As it turns out, Martin became my unofficial new partner and was the reason I finished the race at all.

The stage started off well with a long climb through the trees on a dirt road. By the top of the first climb I was bagged. My legs were tired, my stomach felt empty. And I had no idea how I was going to complete almost an entire marathon. I kept tripping on rocks, an early sign of fatigue and no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t seem to get my legs to pick up. About mid way through the race, while running along with some new friends Stephen and Deborah and telling dirty jokes, I tripped and came within a few cm of eating a giant rock and losing at least a few teeth. And that was it. My ego had had enough. Tears. Tantrum.
“I don’t know why I’m crying! I don’t cry! What is this?”
Magi: “Amy I’m a little jealous of your cry. Don’t worry about it. You look great with mud all over you!”
More crying.

(Side note: I've spoken with a few other runners in camp since that little episode and from a nutritional perspective, I'm pretty sure that sugar was a huge part of the emotional outbursts. Other runners have experienced similar episodes ranging within hours from anger to tears to hopelessness and back to elation. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't know that my body was exhausted, but just as a learning point here, when you force feed your body isolated sugar without any of the other nutrients that come with whole foods, from a 5-phase theory point of view, you are bound to have some parallel feelings of isolation. For those of you who know someone with emotional outbursts or instability, try cutting simple sugars out of your diet and boosting good fats and protein. You'll be amazed at how much more grounded and stable you feel.)

Amazing the hormones that are released through tears. After a few minutes of feeling like a two year old, I was good as new and ready to go. Within a km or so, Magi and I had made an unspoken agreement to just hold the position we had (4th) and enjoy the day. There were non stop jokes with other runners and aid station workers, a request to a cop manning the course to commit me to a mental institute, a few flying unicorns and even trying to convince a couple of doctors to moon the camera with us on the finish line in the hopes of getting a little air time from Glen and honoring my fellow trail trasher Jen who couldn’t be there to moon herself because she had just given birth to her new baby girl! While we packed on a good 20 minutes of time, it was a great day overall. Little did we know it was also our last full day as a team.

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Day 4
Camp Hale to Red Cliff. 14 miles. 3009ft of climbing.
Reward at the end: the famous fish tacos and margaritas at Mangos.

“Magi, this is our day. I had a dream last night and I know what to do. If you can just stay with me, even if you hate me all day, I know I can pull us through to first.”

Up to this point I had been running without music. So I’m not a purist. I have a crutch. I like the beat of music in my ear, partly because then I don’t beat myself up for such labored breathing but also because I was a dancer for 8 years and music moves and inspires me. It blocks everything else out and becomes almost meditative as I let it pull me. We had to carry a pack anyways for safety reasons, whats a few extra ounces for an ipod if it speeds me up? The day started out great. We were in the lead and I felt strong and confident we could win the stage.

But it was not to be. Again, as much as I wanted to push, it’s a team event and Magi just wasn’t able to force the pain out of her body. We made it to the top of the climb and as we jogged away from the aid station, I said to her
“Magi, you’re done.”
She keeps walking, unable to bend her left knee at all because her IT band has completely locked on her.
“Magi, you’re done”.
“No, I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
“No Magi you’re not fine, you have to stop.”

She stops, fighting back the tears. I know how hard this point in any race is. I went through the same thing at 32km in the Vancouver marathon earlier this year. You tell yourself you’re being a baby and that the pain will go away. You tell yourself it’s not really an injury. I had to be her logic because as tough as she is, it would have been crazy to try to continue.

She lets me massage her glutes to try to loosen her IT up as a few of the other teams pass us but refuses to stop walking. I decide not to push it or her, and resign to walking the rest of the way out.

I try to stay positive as we descend the relentlessly steep hill through the forest. No views, just interesting red spotted mushrooms and a few wild strawberry patches which I enjoyed (the strawberries not the hallucinogens). It took us close to 3 hours to get down to the next aid station and when you’re feeling really crappy, there is only so much conversation you can force. I think for both of us it was something like being at a Christmas party with a bunch of people you don’t know when you’re having a fat day and your boyfriend just broke up with you. You just want to crawl under a rock.

At the next aid station we managed to hitch a ride to the finish line, which is why our time for the day shows up as 11 hours even though it was closer to 4.5. Magi understandably disappears back to camp as I head in to Mango’s for a beer and some fish tacos. At this point, I couldn’t see getting back out there for two of the longest days in the race if I wasn’t going to place. I figured I’d cut my losses and just help out with the incredible staff and enjoy the race atmosphere. Little did I know that within a few hours I will have met Martin, who convinces me to get back on the start line and finish the race as if I was still in it. To be clear, Martin is a world class runner who could have finished at the top that day. His patient encouragement, and his boundless energy, compassion and passion for life was what got me through day 5 and even through the worst 24 hour flu and severe dehydration on day 6 that I've ever experienced.

To be continued in TR2 asap...

Saturday, June 26, 2010

My first Ultra - Scorched Soul 2010


Hello pain, nice to meet you. Now p*^%$ off!

That was part of what kept me going today in my first 50k trail race (with over 1700m of elevation gain I might add), and first win of the year. Today, I was able to try a new technique of observing the pain, the negative thought, or destructive emotion and then placing it outside my body and detaching from it. It worked famously. Like watching a movie. It never became a part of ME and I was able to push through this incredibly tough race with ease.

It's been a frustrating year in that I have been second at every race I have entered, and had to drop out of the marathon in Vancouver after training for it for months.

But today, everything just seemed to fall into place. I had my best race in a long time and part of that was just feeling incredible the entire time.

After a week of not running and paddling around the ocean up near Prince Rupert, I wasn't sure my legs would even remember how to run this morning. We got to the race at 630am for a 7am start which was plenty of time to finish my coffee and stand in the lineup for the biff. Temps were perfect at about 18 but I had purposely eaten a lot of salt yesterday in an effort to retain some water and prevent potential hyponatremia, knowing that the forecast was for 30 degrees today. I had a bigger than normal breakfast for me, as I usually don't eat much on the morning of the race. It seemed to do the trick. Felt great to have a really full belly of banana and (eeek! don't tell anyone!) a snickers bar. OMG. Yes. A snickers bar. A lot of people ask me what I eat before a race and I really can't say I have a set breakfast. It totally depends on what I've eaten that week and what I feel my body needs. I just listen to my gut (literally) and it usually tells me what I want. And this morning it was Vega Sport, water, coffee, banana and a small snickers bar. I felt great.

After the gun went off, I got out in front, as I like to do. We climbed for more than 10k before hitting a dirt road, just past the second aid station. I grabbed some water but was basically ok up until the 14k aid station, where I stopped for a swig of more Vega Sport and a gel. More climbing but this time through rocky, wet and very muddy creek beds. The footing was terrible and I was pretty sure I was going to roll an ankle or better yet end up face first in the creek, but I was able to run almost the entire way up to the next aid station at 19k, just before the ascent to the summit and turn around point.

The only thing that really slowed me down on the way up was having to stop and stretch every 20 minutes or so. After Vancouver, I just couldn't risk seizing up again and figured I should take a proactive approach and just chill on going out too hard and fast. Again, I consciously listened to my body and stretched as soon as I felt pain, which actually got quite bad at some points. The climb was slow. Really slow. We're talking 9 minute kms. But I was ok with it. I knew that after the halfway point it was all down hill and figured I could make up some time on the way down.

After passing the 19k mark, I had another package of Vega Sport and ditched my pack in the bushes. It was just me and the music all the way to the summit. More mud, creeks and after a couple km's, snow! Yup. Snow in Kelowna. At least 3km of deep snow all the way to the top. Made for some interesting slip and slide trying to stay on track. A little slow but nonetheless a great distraction. At this point I was still in the leed and running past a few of the 80k females I got a lot of "go sista!" and "go get those guys!" to which I responded "that's the plan"! There were 5 or 6 guys ahead of me and as I still hadn't seen any of them and was nearing the summit, I thought I might try Ellie Greenwood's approach of "chicking" the guys. No such luck.

Almost missed the turn around (typical Amy didn't pay attention on the start line) at the top. Luckily I stopped after a few meters and asked some of the 80k runners that I was following and they politely guided me back to the bag of numbers that I had to grab to prove I had been to the summit.

The descent was all about footing. And after growing up in Canmore, years of hiking, backpacking and mountaineering I knew that I had to pay attention or the race was over.

So while I was lucky enough not to roll my ankle, it was at this point that the pain really set in. My hip flexors had been pretty sore on the way up but this pain was muscles seizing, knees, calves, ankles. At 30k I bent over in a downward dog to stretch and realized that my ankles were caked in blood. I hadn't even noticed the blisters forming, let alone popping and bleeding. So I stopped, pulled my sox up a little higher and kept moving. I thought about Jasmine and Natalie, felt the bracelets they had made me for this race and our week apart, and sent them out a whole bunch of love on our silver wire. (A magical, unbreakable and invisible wire we use that connects our hearts whenever we are apart, to send each other love. Something my dad had invented when I was little). Additionally, it was incredible how well the new technique of "observing" this pain and placing it outside of my body worked. I felt like I was floating (or maybe I was just getting delusional). Either way, it worked.

I prayed, let go, and floated. When I can, I pray during races. It really helps me to focus and let go and remember what's really important in life. For this one, if I had held back on the downhills my legs would have seized up even more. I had to just relax and ride it down. I had lots of energy, took gels at every station and just cruised. Passing the 32k point (where I dropped out in Vancouver) and the 42k point made me even stronger. I had run a smart race, which is uncharacteristic for a girl who likes to get ahead of herself and then blow up. As I passed the last aid station with 4.8k to go I felt incredible. I couldn't see any women behind me so I just cooked down the hot dirt trail, averaging 4minute kilometers, crossing the finish line in 5 hour and 19 minutes. The longest, steepest race I've ever done but I felt great.

Friday, May 28, 2010

Believing in the impossible and trusting your gut.

I'm sitting here with my daughter enjoying our sweet potato chips on a cold spring day in Calgary. Today's focus is on hydration and rest before the Nipika Crazy Soles race tomorrow. It's a 10k trail race. I'm nervous, not sure where my speed is at the moment as up until the beginning of May I was training for the Vancouver marathon and only really running speed workouts once a week.

I've been putting off posting anything about the marathon because it was such a total disaster but also a great lesson. I've had this desire to run a sub 3hr marathon for a few years, although honestly I personally feel way more satisfaction from running 50k in the mountains and just getting off the road. My first marathon in Calgary was a 3:17 back in 2006 but I knew I could have gone faster and it's always bothered me. And it seems that in the running world you have to distinguish yourself with a fast marathon. Or maybe that's just the pressure I was putting on myself. Either way, I was doing it. The girls are 5 now and in kindergarten, business is as busy as I want it, and I have the Trans Rockies race coming up in the fall so I figured a marathon early in the year was a good way to get me focused before too much of 2010 had slipped away. Plus, a bunch of girls were making a trip out of it and what greater thing to share with girlfriends than running and Vancouver (my favorite city in the world).

The other part of the story is that I have been trying to get my dad to run with me for years. I mean 5 or 10k, nothing huge. Every year I ask him to do the fathers day race with me and he finds an excuse. This year however, my boyfriend and I devised a plan: Martin is one of the only guys in the world my dad really respects. And as Martin is an ultra runner, I knew that there was a chance my dad would accept a challenge from him to do the marathon, especially if Martin offered to train with him. And to my shock and disbelief, my dad accepted. He started the training and didn't look back. This is no small miracle. This is gargantuan. My dad. A marathon. Now I believe that anything is possible. (Side note: the one lesson my dad reinforced with vigor as I grew up was that ANYTHING is possible if you work hard and put your mind to it. He never let me make excuses or give up.)

As I started my training, I did so with a bit of reluctance. Seriously if I have a choice I want to be in the mountains, on the trails and as far away from pavement as possible. But, I live in a concrete jungle and so during the week a large part of my running is on city streets and treadmills. It's reality. This feeling of reluctance, of having to run at a certain pace, watch my times and get in a certain number of miles just isn't me. I should have listened to my gut because my feelings towards a marathon manifested themselves as injury in my body. No part of me wanted to do a marathon. I should have paid attention.

Even a month before the race I considered switching to the 1/2, way more manageable but I also knew that if I did this, there was a good chance my dad would drop out. And this was one of the biggest accomplishments of his life and already he was saying things like "I feel alive for the first time in 5 years". I couldn't let him down. So I kept at it.

And when race day came, I felt perfectly trained to run sub 3hrs in Vancouver. I had fueled properly, trained well, rested, and generally felt mentally prepared. I'd had an Achilles injury which I thought was under control (apparently it wasn't as I learned at 18k). But I was ignoring this gut instinct that running on the road was a chore. And running never has been or ever do I want it to be a job or a chore for me. I should have listened to my gut.

The race started well, on pace all the way. I felt strong until about 10k when my feet fell asleep and I kept trying to push through and ignore them but finally had to pull over and loosen my laces. A few km later everything went to s$(%t. My achilles was shooting pain through the heel and all the way up my calf. Then the left foot went and by 24k my legs were completely seized up. I have no idea why to this day. I had enough salt, had eaten well and I know I was hydrated. It's a mystery. Crossing the half way point at 1:34 was ok and I thought I might be able to hold on but by 32k I knew that if I continued the race it would mean no more running, hiking, biking or ANYTHING for the entire summer. And I have way too many plans for long mountain runs, weekend backpacking trips and the Trans Rockies in late August. It just wasn't worth it. I was in so much pain that I knew it was beyond stupid to continue. I stopped, breathed, cried, walked, cried and kicked a rock. I hate giving up. One of my best friends and my pro physio - Somer - ran by and asked if I was ok and all I could say through tears was "don't stop, i'm fine. keep going". I cried for another minute and then told myself to stop being such a baby. It's one race out of hundreds. It's just not worth it.

I managed to catch a ride back to the finish and got there with enough time to wait for my dad and Martin to cross the finish line. We ran together, holding hands. And when I crossed the finish line with him I didn't regret dropping out, and everything about the day was perfect and exactly as it should have been. Within a few hours of finishing the race, over a couple of sushi rolls, my dad says to me "so when's the next race?". Congrats Dad. You've proven to me that nothing is impossible.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Trail runner recently interviewed me for an article in their upcoming issue. This was a huge honor especially because the Elinor Fish was always a huge fan of mine and is now the editor at Trail Runner. She recently had a little boy and is now training for her first 100k race! Holy cow. Just when I was about to cave and let all the "you're doing too much, slow down, how do you have time for it all" get to me, I get inspired by women like Elinor and others who do the mothering, are brilliant, and are incredible athletes and do it all with ease and grace (something I don't have a lot of).
So my kids are a huge part of my life and just started kindergarten and my goal is to be with them as much as possible before they start grade one. So I've really put a lot of things on hold to make sure they get off on the right foot because those first 6 years are so critical to their development.
This morning was the first time that I might have had to admit to myself that I'm not sure how much longer I can get away with pushing them in the Chariot. Between the two of them they are about 75 pounds which is still pretty light for two four year old girls but when you add in coloring books, sticker books, ipods, water and snacks... well lets just say the flat runs are getting more and more appealing and I don't live in a flat neighborhood. However, coming back from Worlds I have allowed myself a bit of freedom in that I am more willing to stop at parks for a bit and do some plyometrics while the kids play. If 10k takes me two hours, that's ok.
The other day we ran all the way up to the farmers market and back and it was one of the best sundays ever. Got a massive zucchini and had soup and bread from it for a week!
Gotta say though when I got to a big hill and saw a moms with strollers class doing hill repeats, I had to stop my whining.
There are strong women all over the place. And those are just the visible ones.
Way to go moms.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Race Report

















Race Report:


World Mountain Running Championships 2009


So before I give you the official results, I have to give you the interpretation of the results because, not to make excuses, but it’s important to know what the competition is like in Europe. The Italian women dominated our field - taking all three podium spots. Must be awesome to have won on home turf!


As you can see - I was about mid pack. This isn't amazing but it's also a big improvement for me from when I went in 2006 and considering Joel Bourgeois - an Olympic runner - finished in a relatively similar position, I am pretty ok with my placement. It was an honor to compete at that level and to represent Canada and I really felt like I got a good grasp on what it would take, when I can put in the time, to place even close to the top 20 in the field. It's pretty incredible that the IAAF has now recognized mountain running as a sport and the more countries continue to show up at these events, the closer we get to getting a spot at the Olympics and really getting recognition for what I would say is the hardest (most prolonged pain for sure) type of running I have ever done. Looking at the results, the winner was about 8 minutes ahead of me, so about 1 minute faster per km. That's a lot but it was also encouraging to see that Melissa Moon from New Zealand - who has won worlds a few times before - was only 4 minutes ahead of me. I know without a doubt that I can work hard enough to get there and with the kids starting grade one next year, it will become more of a possibility. Up until now it just hasn't been an option without really throwing my life out of balance.


Women (69 finishers, 14 teams)
13 147 CANADA
46 0.51.19 9 Sylvia CORBETT
47 0.51.50 10 Amy GOLUMBIA
54 0.52.43 11 Jessalyn O'DONNELL
63 0.56.52 12 Emily SOLSBERG

Men (138 finishers, 24 teams)
11 254 CANADA
51 1.02.13 14 Joel BOURGEOIS
55 1.02.38 15 Jason TERAUCHI-LOUTITT
64 1.03.08 17 Kris SWANSON
84 1.04.35 13 Adrian LAMBERT
95 1.06.27 16 Edward MCCARTHY
117 1.11.34 18 Trevor CALDWELL

Junior men (68 finishers)
66 82 Gord MINAKER CAN 93 0.50.41 66 + 12.15

The Italians did an incredible job organizing the event. ValChiavienna is about 2 hours north of Milan, up a little tiny narrow valley with incredibly windy roads. Seriously, I wish I had a picture. You would look at the cliff and think - oh wow, that looks like good climbing, and somehow they manage to get cars up the cliffs! The 3 day event took place between three of the little towns, all about 8km apart.


We walked the course as a team on Friday and Jessalyn and I did some sprints up one of the hills- which was a great way to feel the altitude. The entire course was in a cloud so we really couldn't get a good overall picture, but I tried to pay attention to the footing because it was treacherous. Ideal ankle breaking grounds. Similar to what Canmore is so I felt fortunate to already have trained at that level. Nothing incredibly painful but after a week of tapering my muscles weren’t really sure what I was expecting of them.


Friday afternoon were the opening ceremonies and parade complete with entertainment!. All of the athletes were paraded through the town and the streets were absolutely packed with supporters cheering for us. I was too nervous to eat dinner after the race, so grabbed something light and spent some time meditating and focusing alone in my room. Fell asleep early and fortunately had a great sleep.


Morning of the race I had some really strong Italian coffee and a light meal. Race wasn’t until 1045 so my main focus was staying hydrated. Caught a bus up to the start line which was at the bottom of the ski hill. In full sunlight the hill was intimidating to say the least - looking up at the Madonna d'Europa which by the way is the highest Madonna in Europe, and knowing that she wasn’t even the top.


I always start to get nervous at the start line, standing around with all of these incredibly ripped women. The morning seemed to go by pretty quickly and before I knew it we were racing through the little ski village and starting the first 400m climb. Fortunately I went into the warm up really warm so the steep climb wasn't too much of a shock but you always reach a point in mountain running where you just have to succumb to the need to walk. It's impossible to "run" any further and I always beat myself up for it but found out after that even the leaders walked a good chunk of the hill.


I know now that I didn't push hard enough on the downhill the first lap, so after the second climb I tried really hard to gain back a few positions with aggressive downhill speed. This was a bit of a risk as the footing was really really horrible and the risk of rolling an ankle was very present. The second climb was more painful than the first for sure but once I hit the high point, I knew that it really

was "all downhill from here". I cooked into the finished, fought hard for a few positions and tried desperately to catch

up to Syl but she just had it in her that day.


It was great to stand around with my team mates at the end of the race and watch the three Italian women take their

spots on the podium, one of them with her son, and tears of joy in her eyes.


We did a quick cool down and somehow I was coerced into going partway back up the hill to cheer for the men.

"Seriously you guys want to go back up that thing? Are you nuts? Let's just watch their three laps at the finish line!".

I would have been ok not to see another hill for a week.


Fortunately, all the pain of the race dissolved quickly with a nap, and a bit of wine and gelato, something I had been holding back on since arriving in Italy.

And boy was it worth it! I took the next week off for the most part, other than lots of walking and sightseeing and eating. Back in Calgary now with my family, I have regained my strength and the desire to get back out there and keep racing. Sometimes events like this can really leave me feeling exhausted, overwhelmed and unwilling to put my shoes back on until I really want to, but this time I was inspired. I've already got three more races lined up for this fall and while I'm still not sure about the "up only" course in 2010, I plan to work hard and stay focused on a top 20 position in 2011.







Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Aug 30- The last race before the big one

While I was supposed to do the Moose Mountain 16k, I decided it made way more sense from a recovery perspective to do something short and sweet. A few days before the race, I found the Calgary Women's race - a nice flat 5k starting in Shouldice which made a lot of sense seeing as it was the morning I was to leave for Italy and I still hadn't packed.
The race turned out to be ideal and gave me the confidence boost I was looking for. My 18:32 was a personal best by 22 seconds (I ran 18:54 at Mother's Day Race in May)... It was the first time I was ever able to keep Lisa Harvey in sight for more than the first 100m.
After awards it was a mad rush to pack and get to the airport on time. So many little details to organize with family, kindergarten for the kids, transportation, tying up loose ends at work... but as we boarded our flight my attention turned to racing and looking forward to the week ahead of tapering and enjoying a new country.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Italy!

Amys mind: Body go running! You`re in Italy!
Amys body: Yah right, its 3am. Forget it.
Mind: Come on, its 9am local time, you have to get used to this you have a race in 6 days!
Body: Fine, but only 4km and were going slow!!!
Urgh....

We arrived in Italy. Woe is us, had to settle for a BMW free upgrade as they were out of minis. Apparently my boyfriend was a race car driver in a past life. Good thing they dont seem to enforce the speed limits on the highways!

First run after a long flight, some wine and not much sleep didnt feel very good so I am grateful for the extra few days to adjust before the race.

Were in Venice right now. The culture here is incredible. Will head up to the mountains in a couple of days to meet up with the team. For now, loving every second of this.

Ciao!