USATF Masters National 8K Road Championships - Brea, CA 2/28/16

During our course preview the day before the race, I had a profound thought.  I shared it with my teammate Lynelle as we coasted into the Brea Mall parking lot.  "Lynelle, there are two ways we could feel at the end of the race.  We could finish, feeling empowered and in control of our own destiny, or we can finish feeling defeated, without a care about our destiny, focused only on crossing the line so we can just be done.  The key to how we feel at the end will be based on how smart we run at the beginning."  

It occurred to me that I had experienced both on this very course.  In 2014 I was in top condition physically and mentally and settled on a pacing strategy that would prove to work out perfectly.  I went out 10 seconds slower than my intended overall pace and was able to make it up in the last two miles.  With a tangible clarity I still recall how I felt in the closing miles, picking off runners, dropping my time down enough to finish with a 5:30 mile, I had everything in control.  I wasn't challenged by any females at the end but I knew if I had been, I would have had one more gear if I needed it.  So that was that year.

Last year, 2015, was entirely the opposite.  I was mending from an injury, lacking confidence, unsure of my game plan because I just didn't know what pace I could realistically hold.  I went out too fast, struggled in the middle miles, and just didn't have much for the finish. That year I did have females to race against at the end and I remember, again with tangible clarity, feeling like I didn't care if they beat me, I didn't care how fast I was going, I just didn't care about anything except crossing the line so I could finally stop running.  I had no control over myself, no extra gear.  

Same course, same me, two completely different finishes.  I wondered how it would go this year.  It was good that this thought happened upon me the day before the race, and good that I verbalized it to Lynelle because it reminded me how important it is to run smart, set the right expectations, and hold to the right pace.  I didn't want to finish this one feeling like I did last year.

The Brea 8K has been host to the USATF Masters 8K Road Championships for the past 3 years and with any luck, they will agree to allow the SoCal Association to bid for another 3 years.  I have my fingers crossed.  Being that this might be the last time this national championship happens so close to home and on such a perfect course, we simply would not have missed it for the world.  We formed a women's 40+ team (me, Desa Mandarino, Jen Brown and Lynelle Paulick), and a men's 50+ team (John Abrami, Jim Adams, Richard Konoske) and we had three individual runners, Nash Jimenez, Ricky Ho and Larry Brooks. The team competition is fierce against the many LA teams, so also against teams that travel many miles to compete.  Our ladies were hopeful that we'd podium but felt it was a long shot to even hope for 1st or 2nd (which were the $ places).  But even when you feel there is no hope, there always is.

Here's how it all played out.  The whole group stayed at a hotel located right at the race start (same place we have stayed the previous years).  Race time on Sunday was 7:30 am, so we gathered (most of us anyway) at 6:15 am to go for our warm up. The air was thick with fog and getting foggier, but the temperature was clean and crisp and no wind.  The chill and moisture was refreshing and mixed with my nerves to energize me.  I don'the recall feeling extremely nervous but what I do know is that I was looking forward to running hard.  That is NEVER something I look forward to.  What was in that fog anyway?  We had a nice 3 mile warm up and arrived back to the hotel in time to change into our Rabbit uniforms and racing flats.  I packed a few things in a small backpack intending to place it near the start so I had it handy post-race.

One by one, we all made our way to the starting area to do our pre-race drills and strides. By now the 200+ masters runners littered the area, everyone doing everything they could to get their bodies ready to run hard.  This is the time when nerves begin to set in.  It doesn't help that a few things went wrong at this point.  Our 4 woman team looked for the uniform check in at the start (where they said it would be) but no one was checking teams at the starting line.  I learned that the other three ladies were waiting for me at the USATF tent as that apparently is where the check actually was. By the time I ran over there, the check in person had left and we were then told to go to the starting line to check in.  We were just a few minutes before start and were desperately just trying to check in and the stress level rose just a bit.  On our scamper back up to the starting line, John informed me that my little backpack had been confiscated by security as it was considered suspicious.  The police had been called and somehow or another my little backpack was put in jail. I get it.  I know why that happened but it was just another unsettling thing to add to our "check in" difficulty.  In the end, we never did find the person with whom to check in and had to let that go.  It was a frustrating distraction.  

The National Anthem was performed live and we settled into our spot a few layers in behind the finish line.  Heart pounding, eyes wide.  The fog remained heavy and I put my sunglasses up on my head, hoping to use them later.  At some point the horn sounded unexpectedly.  I missed the "runners to your mark" part.  So reaction time was a little slow but I realized it took everyone by surprise, sigh.  Old people.

My game plan was once again to go out 10 seconds slower than my intended race pace which meant going through the first mile in around 6:15.  The first mile was nice and smooth. Oddly there were some runners breathing so hard I wondered if they were going to make it 800 meters.  I am certain they didn't bother warming up and went out way too fast for their fitness level.  Both are huge mistakes and I wondered how seasoned masters runners could be so foolish. The fact that I was mentally analyzing these things meant that I was relaxed and in a comfortable place.  I spent time analyzing everyone around me. I looked up the road to see who was ahead of me and saw Nash. He tends to go out faster than me so this was a good situation and I locked eyes on him.  I listened to the breathing around me, and I listened to my own breathing.  I scanned my body from top to bottom to take inventory of everything.  I felt great.  I had energy, I was running off my toes, feeling power in my stride and was very comfortable with the pace.  I came through the first mile in 6:08 which was faster than I planned but considering how I felt, I was elated.  I kept my eyes locked on Nash and I tried to settle my pace a bit.  Being that the course is always fluctuating up and down, has a long hill in the middle but a lot of downhill in the final two miles, it is very difficult to get the pace right at first.  I didn't have an expectation of where I should be at each mile but I knew I needed to remain conservative and trust by body to have it at the end.  The second mile, which sloped down and then sloped up, felt great to me but I noted that Nash was a little farther ahead.  This mile had slowed to 6:23 and in my mind that was fine because that evened it out to the 6:15 pace I had intended.  The third mile is where the hill is and is the slowest mile.  It was in this mile that I spotted a blond runner in a pink uniform.  This was Tania from the Janes Elite team and she represented the opportunity to begin to dream just a little bit.  She is the first runner on the Janes Elite team which was the defending champions.  She also is in my age group and tends to run extremely tough.  Having her in my sights going into the third mile was both surprising and exhilarating.  She was still many yards ahead of me but I had a target.  When I hit a hill, I really want it to be over as soon as possible so on this one I tried to increase the exertion a bit and passed a few women (and men) in the process.  I fully expected to pass several women as I went out conservatively, so it felt good to already begin picking them off.  But blond/pink was still up ahead, although I had picked up some time on her.  At the top of the hill, I moved my glasses in place (the fog was dissipating), took several strides to get my breathing and effort level back under control and was stilling picking up time on her.  We passed the 5K mark and turned the corner to head back down the hill. I no longer paid any attention to my time or my watch.  I'm pretty sure I didn't look at it again and that was because it didn't matter.  All that mattered was that I catch my girl and give our team a chance to accomplish something great and unexpected.  We had less than two miles to go and I went into tactical mode (similar to how I ran the recent XC race - if you missed that race report, read about it HERE).  It was at this point that I somehow got one leg on the wrong side of the "caution tape" that lined the course.  How did that happen?  I was running while straddling this yellow tape wondering how I was going to get this straightened out.  I had to almost stop to swing my leg back over and lost some ground, and was just a bit frazzled.  I had to quickly regroup and refocus, pick up the pace and continue with the pursuit. Shortly thereafter, I caught blond/pink but I spent some time on her heels before I decided to pass her. I knew she would surge as I passed so I wanted to be sure I had an answer. I made the pass, she made an audible noise of frustration and tried to surge. I also surged and made a definitive pass and kept my pace strong. It occurred to me that today I am in control of the outcome of this race. We had just over a mile to go and now I focused again on Nash who was a few yards ahead of me. 

Many things entered my mind in this last mile.  First, I began to fantasize about the possibility of beating this unbeatable team.  I wondered if there was any other woman in my age group ahead of me. I had just passed the defending champion.  I had no other goals ahead of me. It mattered not to me if I caught Nash (I figure if I repeat this to myself enough I'll finally believe it).  I figured we both must be having outstanding races. Was he winning his age group?  I thoroughly enjoyed that last mile. I felt good. There was no way I was going to be caught. I thought of my teammates and how they were doing, and where they were in reference to the other Janes Elite team runners.  I passed a few struggling men, came around the few final turns and ran the final stretch. The only, I mean ONLY disappointment I felt that day was the time on the clock as I approached. With all that I'd just experienced I figured my time would be decent and within my expectation. It wasn't. It was (in my mind) slow. I crossed the line feeling like I had more in the tank but having accomplished all I really needed to.  It is not like me to finish with more to give. I quickly tucked this away to be pondered later.  Just a few seconds after I finished, Jen, having run a remarkable race, came across the line, also beating blond/pink.  My mind began to race, processing all of this.  Two of us finished before Janes Elite's top runner finished.  Jen and I (and Nash) high five'd or hugged or something (I can't really remember) and Nash began yelling for Desa.  Desa was coming in and without even being aware of it, everything was resting on her shoulders. Desa finished ahead of Jane's third runner and as we huddled in fatigue, the possibility begin to bloom in our minds. Did we just win this thing?  We yelled for our remaining runners, Lynelle and the guys.  I felt so many emotions at this point.  Elation mixed with disappointment.  Elation quickly won over.  The Janes girls grouped together and it seemed they were figuring it out pretty quick.  With an occasional glance our way, they realized they might have just got beat by some Rabbits.  

We made our way over to the expo and to the results.  I found out there was another in my age group ahead of me so I was second. Another slight disappointment but why dwell? Nash was also second but to someone he highly respected. He seemed okay with the outcome which allowed me to feel the same.  Lynelle also podiumed with a third.  She had a superb race and well deserved.  Larry Brooks also secured a second place age group finish. Santa Barbara just made a statement. However, there were no team results posted so we simply didn't know how we placed.  As we cooled down we hoped, we dreamed, we anticipated.

Team results were finally posted and it was official.  Santa Barbara Running and Racing women's 40+ team won.  Janes Elite Racing was second.  Cal Coast A team was third.  I tried to remain mature in my reaction but I felt like I was in high school again, the day we eeked out our 4th straight state championship title.  I felt giddy and excited. And I said it out loud.  We are National Champions.  Oh that felt so good.

Well wouldn't you know it that somewhere between the posting of the team results and the awards ceremony, things got messed up.  When the winners were announced they had Jane's in third, Santa Barbara in second (what?) and Cal Coast in first.  Seriously?  We sat there in our chairs, unable to rise to the podium because we were utterly confused.  They proceeded to hand out the first and third place awards.  Janes collected the first place award and Cal Coast the third place award (because they at least figured out that everything was announced wrong) but we remained seated.  I was waiting to speak with the official as soon as they were done.  It did end up getting corrected and everyone was exceedingly gracious. The Janes representative handed us the first place award and collected their second place stuff.  Coach Nash spoke directly to the race director to make sure the official results were correct, etc... We are assuming all of that will be officially corrected as there was (a little) money earned. So we didn't get that wonderful pleasure of going before the crowd to get the recognition but no matter.  Everyone was wonderful and we held many conversations of congratulations, and got our team photos taken.

Thank you Desa, Jen and Lynelle for doing so well, running with your heart, forming a bond that will always exist. This was a true team experience and you all mean everything to me.  I have tremendous respect for you and your courage to believe.  Many people count themselves out of something this big before ever giving it a shot. You are not like that.

Thank you John for encouraging me, training with me, doing these wonderful things together. Without you it would be meaningless.   Thank you Nash for pulling great people together and putting so much of who you are into us.  You are the greatest runner I've ever met. You have taught me so much. I thought I knew it all but I didn't.  And you race with us. Thank you Fred for the training plan that although aimed at some big triathlons, is giving me the fitness and confidence I need. I feel so blessed by every one of you and am truly grateful. Congratulations Ricky on your first Master's competition. You have now discovered that masters runners remain strong and fast.  These days no one concedes to age and science.  We continue to prove you can still run fast after 40.

Next up is Carlsbad 5000 in April and then from there, the Ironman 70.3 in St. George in May.

2016 USATF Cross Country National Championships - Race Report

On the starting line of every major race in my memory, the same thought crosses my mind. "Why do I do this to myself?  Why am I here? I could be sleeping or sitting with a nice Americano, but no, I drag my butt to this spot. Why?"  And at the finish line of those same major races comes this thought: "Oh.  That's why."  Take a chance.  Do what is scary or out of your comfort zone.  Take a risk.  See what happens.  What if?

When something really matters and you feel like your whole being is on the line, you get nervous and begin to ask all of the "why's". 

Here's a "What If?" story. We traveled last week to Bend, OR with about 14 other Santa Barbara runners to complete in the XC national championship. "We" being myself and John, Coach Nash, my masters women teammates Desa Mandarino and Lynelle Paulick, the members of the open women's team - Lauren Capone, Jill Deering, Dani Moreno and Natalie McClure, and the masters men - Rusty Snow, Todd Booth, Jim Adams, Mike Swan, Marcelo Mejia, Steve Harding and Micks Purnell. There were Santa Barbarians all over the place.  It was, in a word, EPIC.

All I knew about Bend, OR prior to this trip, was that it had a really hard cross country course.  The course (in similar configuration) was used for the 2013 USATF National Club Championships and just from the little bit of video footage and the times posted, we knew it was a tough one.  But not having a full visual is always difficult.  You just have to train for every possible condition - hills, mud, snow, thick grass, soggy grass, clumps of crab grass, wood chips, rocks, steep up, steep down, sideways sloping fairways, freezing temperatures, rain, creek crossings.  Basically that is cross country in a big nutshell.

So we did a bulk of our preparation in the dark on grass surfaces (littered with palm tree obstacles many of which I narrowly missed colliding with) in the coldest temperatures Santa Barbara could muster, and miles and miles and miles of Romero Canyon.  Not only were the Romero climbs important but so were the descents.  We had at least one fairly significant blustery rainstorm worked into the mix which we thought was fairly laughable to try and train through.  We had to run 1200 meter intervals into some kind of insane wind, into rain so hard we could barely keep our eyes open (that was one of the times I had close calls with palm trees).  I turned to Lynelle that morning and said, "See what I mean about cross country?  It's all about snot, tears and blood.  No sweat involved."

We did our weeks and weeks of training, hoping we were coming close to the right kind of preparation and the tension began to build in the final weeks before the race.  I was anxious to preview the course so that I could have more realistic panic instead of just imagined panic.  

We arrived early Friday morning (the day before Race Day) - 1:00 am'ish, slept as much as possible, and then our small gang of housemates loaded up our nerves and our spikes and went to packet pick up and onto the course.  I noted that travel to the course, which was, as usual, on a golf course, was uphill.  This was not a good sign.  It also wasn't helpful that Todd, who'd been to the course already, said, "It's tough. It has two big hills."  Um, it's a 2000 meter loop with two big hills.  In other words what you're saying is the whole thing is uphill.  Breath, just take deep calming breaths.  It can't all be uphill. It's a loop.  There has to be some down stuff somewhere.

We arrived.  It was windy and cloudy, and kind of cold.  We walked over to the area of the start and stood near the starting line looking up the course.  The key word here is "UP" the course.  It starts with a gruesome, nasty hill (which I will call hill #1).  Not just a hill, but a messy, choppy, wood chippy, twisting hill of uneven grass, strewn with an occasional ground level, mostly buried boulder (upon which spikes don't work very well).  You look at this hill and you just puzzle over it and scratch your head.  Why?

So off we went to begin to jog the loop.  By the way, this type of cross country racing involves 2000 meter loops so everything we were now seeing and feeling would happen over and over and over (and maybe a few more "over's") again.  Keeping this in mind, we shuffled over the swamp, across the wood chips, and up the nasty hill.  Almost in unison we said, "geez, so glad we spent all the time running Romero."  Talk about luck.  We somehow managed to train ourselves perfectly.  The hill finally ended and we got to have a very special and fun downhill section which curved around into the next hill.  Hill #2 was totally different than hill #1.  Hill #2 started off with some fun muddy, messy, rocky dirt which finally popped up back onto the rough grass.  Unfortunately that was just the beginning of hill #2. It continued on and began to slope sideways so that you run up a hill but one foot is lower than the other because the hill also goes sideways.  And this lasts FOREVER.  It finally rounds a corner to the right, still climbing and then the sideways slope shifts to the other side.  And still climbs until we reach the happy tree.  The happy tree means hill #2 is almost done.  Of course it has to be a false summit and where you think you should be going down, somehow you're still climbing.  But finally it does shift to a downhill and this one is nice and long. We cross a slushy "what the heck is this" section and then comes King's Cliff.  King's Cliff is a sharp descent - short and NOT sweet.  Then you finish off the loop, round the lower bend and begin to head through the transition into your next loop - which, need I even say it, means you are now at hill #1 again.  So that thing haunted my dreams that night.  For the Master's women it was 3 loops of hell, for the Master's men, 4 loops and for the Open women, 5 loops of nasty.

Race Day - Master's Women were first up so the three of us warmed up, claimed our Warming Tent and hit the port-a-potties 15 times, while Nash and John napped in the car (which Nash insisted we park as near to the start as possible, meaning we parked basically illegally and pretty much ON the course).  The temperature race morning was bordering between 'manageable with only a tank top', and 'requiring full coverage.'  We each settled on what we thought we could handle, put on our spikes and went to the start.  John and Nash decided their nap was done so they came out and grabbed our coats.  Yes, I kept my Patagonia down coat on me practically until the gun went off.  Nash and John actually did more than just grab our coats. They offered encouragement and Nash drilled it into our heads at least 14 times - "Doooon't go out too fast."  We stretched, we jogged, we strided, we jumped up and down and finally we were called to the line.  This is when I went into my start line melt down of why's.  And then the gun went off and suddenly, who cares why.  We raced.

Photo by Todd or Skyler Booth

A quick synopsis because this is already getting a bit on the long side.  The one runner whom I knew from other competitions went out fast and separated herself.  I was content to let her do that because I was not going to blow this.  Too fast of a start on Mr. Nasty hill #1 could be a race ender.  The rest of the field was conservative so this made it easy to stay mellow.  I settled into second place and soon after, a woman in a white hat settled on my shoulder.  Up and down, around and through we went and loop #1 was in the history books. The lead runner

had a 30 second lead and I was in a clear battle for my second place position with a woman also in my age group and a member of the other scoring team against whom we were contending. Hence, this is why she settled on my shoulder.  She figured the race between she and I would perhaps determine a couple of medals and prize money.  My hope was that I would

Photo by Todd or Skyler Booth

come off of each loop totally stoked to get right into the next one and this is in fact how I felt.  So we moved into loop #2, starting again with hill #1.  I studied my shoulder buddy.  She was making me do the work. She drafted off me into the headwind and she was getting on my nerves.  I noted that she struggled on the hills and then caught and sometimes passed me on the downhills.  It went exactly the same in loop #2. She stayed mostly on my shoulder, and we actually gained some seconds on the lead woman. I decided to be thankful for my shoulder buddy.  We had now created a nice gap between ourselves and those behind us

Photo by Todd or Skyler Booth

so she was my only concern.  Coming down the hill on loop #2, she pulled ahead on King's Cliff but I eventually worked back to her on the more even ground.  We rounded the bend and were now looking at our final loop.  I love the final loop of any race. With every challenge you complete you can finally say, "ha, that's the last time I have to go up that hill, or over that mud, or whatever."  My shoulder buddy definitely struggled on the final round of hill #1 but she stubbornly stayed close and got back on my shoulder on the downhill.  This time though, I wasn't going to do all the work.  I slowed down so much she had no option but to pass me and I latched on to her shoulder as we came to hill #2 and the soon arrival of the headwind.  She was struggling at

Photo by Todd or Sklyer Booth

this point so I begin to recover as I stayed behind her using much less energy than I had been.  We popped up from the muddy rocky part and onto the slanted section.  I decided at some point in that section that I didn't feel like hanging on her shoulder anymore and I moved passed her, still on the hill, and I did so purposefully because I knew she was struggling on the hills.  I quickly dropped her this time and she had no response. I still felt great and I got to the happy tree with enough of a gap that I could no longer hear her anywhere behind me.  The last section was the final 800 meters downhill and I picked up my pace.  At this point, had I been within range, I would have set

Photo by Todd or Skyler Booth

my sights on the lead runner but she had at least 20 seconds on me.  I ran that last section imaging that my shoulder buddy was catching me (which she wasn't), rounded the final bend and ran the slope up to the finish line.  I placed 2nd, and about 24 seconds ahead of her. Therefore I won my age group (the lead woman was in younger age group) and positioned our team ahead of the other team at that point.  As soon as I crossed the finish line and got to double over and breath for a good long time, the same old answer to the tortured Why's

Photo by Todd or Skyler Booth

came screaming into my head.  THIS is why you do what you do.  I turned to wait for my teammates and watched for the opposing team scoring runners. Soon Desa arrived, third in our age group.  That meant two of our team crossed and only one of theirs crossed.  Just as we anticipated, Lynelle would be the key.  Desa and I watched and the remaining two women on the other team finished but just on their tail was our Lynelle.  She crossed and crumbled as her

Photo by Todd or Skyler Booth

legs gave out.  Clearly she gave it all and then some.  In the end we won by 1 point. If any one of us had lost a place to another scoring runner our team wouldn't have won. National championship medals and victories are not easy to come by. They are cherished no matter what the situation. We were elated and giddy, and pretty much freaked out.  Tears came.  It was EPIC.


We then watched our guys run!  We bounced all over the course cheering like mad people. All of the sudden that nasty course wasn't so nasty after all. We just

Photo by Todd or Skyler Booth

kicked its butt.  The guys ran just as brave and amidst a heavy and talented field of competitors, the 40+ team placed 2nd. Rusty won his age group and was 5th overall.  Marcelo ran incredibly even though he was horribly sick.  Mike had almost no sleep and ran well. Nash was 2nd in his age group.  The 50+ guys didn't have a full team but they all ran well.  We had an amazing showing at this race. Finally our Open women competed, doing their 5 loops.  They were so fun to watch and made it look easy. Jill ran strong even though she also was sick.  Dani, Lauren and Natalie placed solidly and made us all proud.  The women were adorn in Rabbit race kits.

Photo by Todd or Skyler Booth

It was a beautiful journey.  This story and our experiences are why I like to do things way out of my comfort zone.  It's scary, you might fall flat, but just maybe, maybe something magical will happen.  If you don't try, you leave no opportunity for the magical moments to surprise you.  I think Bend is a magical place.  Thank you John for journeying with me in everything. Thank you Nash for the hard, in your face advice, and for making us do Romero 15 times.  Thank you Desa and Lynelle for running with your hearts and winning the championship. Thank you Fred for the deep conditioning and mental toughness of the triathlon training that also added to this accomplishment.  Thank you Billy and Gi for supporting your super woman and for the photos. Thank you Todd and Skyler for more photos.  Thank you Rabbit for the racing kits, which we were so proud to wear. And thank you Santa Barbara Running for sponsoring our team.  Thank you to all who cheered on site and in thought. 

Photo by Todd or Skyler Booth

Training with the Boys

I grew up with big brothers, and my earliest childhood memories include chasing them through deserted fairgrounds, following them into the woods on adventures, trying to stay up with them on my skates through the streets of our neighborhood.  I think maybe my mom forgot to tell me I was a girl.  It's like that weird phenomenon that happens sometimes in the animal kingdom.  A baby duck is rescued and raised by the family cat.  The poor duck thinks it's a cat.  I must have thought I was a boy.  

Early on and throughout childhood, my best friends were boys. There was Jon who lived down the street in Portola, Curtis who lived across the street in Placerville, and Kevin who was a few miles up the road but our families were friends so we hung out a lot. I seemed always to naturally gravitate toward boys and the reason most likely was that I liked to do the same stuff. Tonka trucks and army men instead of baby dolls and barbies.  I liked getting filthy looking for frogs and snakes, and exploring haunted, abandoned shacks in the woods.  I liked building forts and climbing trees.  One day my mom looked at my skinned knees and scars and said, "Oh Cindy, you've ruined your body.  You'll never be able to wear dresses with those scarred up knees."  YES!  Success!

It is no surprise then, when my running days began, that I loved to run with the boys.  In High School when our coach would send us out for our runs off campus, there'd be two groups that would naturally form: the chatty girls in one group, and the boys + Cindy in the other group.  I didn't know why it always worked out that way but it seemed the natural flow. I wasn't interested in goofy, girly gossip on the run.  Running was serious business and it seemed the boys had that figured out just a bit better.  And somehow it was just more comfortable.

This brings me to the point of this blog.  I love training with the boys.  I've been doing it for long enough now that I've got it all fully analyzed.  Boys are awesome and here are 10 reasons why:

1. They are, on average, stronger athletes than females so the "challenge factor" to stay up with them can be off the charts!
2. They tend to be emotionally stable and level headed compared to the female athlete therefore adding a "calming factor" to the girl world.  Coach Nash will be the first to tell me "Just get out there and run girl. Stop thinking so much.  You gotta' just go."
3. Competitively they are in another category so there is less head-to-head competition in training sessions.  Instead, they tend to be extremely supportive of female athletes who can hang with them.
4. The conversation among boys is much more fun to listen to.  Instead of hearing what Suzy did to her boyfriend, and why everyone hates Sally, you get to listen to intellectually stimulating comparisons of UFC fighting versus boxing.
5. Boys naturally protect females so there is an added sense of security when training with them. They typically don't drop you in remote places and leave you to figure out how to get back, and when you have a flat, they fix it for you.  If you fall behind they will fall back and pull you back in. This seems to be part of their nature.
6. Boys are great at snot rockets and the best part is they tend to roll to the side before shooting one out, thereby keeping snot off of the girl on their shoulder.  Although today I was sitting on the wheel of a guy, when I noticed something resembling a blob (a yellowish jelly in the shape of an amoeba) fly by my head.  A near miss. Clearly he didn't know I was back there.
7. Boys sweat a lot which can be very handy during a bike ride.  For instance, Poul is nicknamed "the swamp-cooler" so on a hot day it is advantageous to ride behind him. He has a tendency to turn his head and ask "am I splashing on you?"  When Poul turns his head, yes he splashes you.
8. They are great at accepting me into their boy-tribe (I think it's because of my scarred up knees), so this means they don't filter their topics of conversation.  I get to hear all sorts of cool things related to male body parts and bodily functions, what they think of various women, and something about "hitting the head" comes up from time to time.
9. There is a noted lack of drama among the boys.  However, I do still have to deal with their propensity to envy one another.  For example, Fred got new Italian something-or-other bike shoes.  All the other guys were fixated on them and asked Fred for every detail, to which Fred happily provided EVERY detail. Where he got them, what size they were, what they were made of, how much he paid, details regarding the guy who sold them to him, the other options he could have chosen, the entire story of the experience of trying them on, and it really sort of just kept going.  This scenario happens with all sorts of things, not just bike shoes.
10. Boys love to give girls advice!  So every training session is an intensive clinic!  This advice usually starts out as a question: "Cindy, why do you peddle so hard?"  "Cindy, why aren't you carrying more water?"  "Cindy, why did you cut the curve at that angle?"  "Cindy, why does your wet suit have that big wrinkle in the middle?" "Cindy, why don't you have cool Italian leather cycling shoes like me?"

John and I during the SB Tri

My number one training partner and best friend is John Abrami, who also happens to be my husband.  He is a boy!  See how that works?  It is an amazing blessing that we share training and racing goals at an intimate level, and spend quite a bit of time in training and racing together.  He is also a phenomenal swim coach adding an extra component. 

Just getting ready for a bike ride

I also have the privilege of cycling with a group comprised mostly of men and I love it (them).  They do a great job of making me feel like one of the boys and I have truly thrived in that environment.  They are challenging, encouraging, inspirational, motivating and genuine.  

All of my coaching comes from great men! John Abrami, Nash Jimenez, and Fred Maggiore. These guys are experienced, caring and lead by example.  Not only do they guide and direct me, but they also train with me. If I have any success toward reaching my goals this year, these three will be the reason.

At the top of some crazy summit in Mammoth

I'm glad my life started out with chasing my big brothers. I'm glad I still have "big brothers" to chase!  You guys are the best.

The Stinging Lessons of Venom

What are the odds?  When something odd happens and then repeats itself a second time, it becomes more than just odd.  I had a repetitious oddity occur over the summer and it ended up being enlightening, motivating and profound.  It was a painful experience (both times) but yet it set my mind and my attitude straight and allowed me to take hold of hope and focus.

Here's what happened.  Back in May I had just finally declared my current Achilles injury healed. It was a year long healing process and at that point I was running without pain and no longer putting any thought to that part of my body.  Healed.  I also was able to train properly for a half marathon and so I trained and did one (sort of).  The race was on a Sunday, then the following Tuesday (2 days later) I made a big mistake.  I did a hard speed workout in quick preparation for the State Street Mile and at the end of that workout I slipped on my spikes and did 4 all out 200's.  I remember thinking after the last one, "I don't think I should have done that." Geez, famous last words.  The next day when I began my run, pain set in on the left calf/Achilles area (the area I just declared healed) and worsened as I ran.  I limped my way back, worried that I'd really screwed things up again.  As it turns out, I did screw things up again and this time it not only included my left Achilles but also muscle damage in the calf muscles as well.  It took me a few weeks to figure out it was another set back and it took me a few more weeks to accept the reality.  A back to back Achilles injury and now another lost Summer of racing and training (maybe more).

I write all this to lay out the background leading to the repetitive oddity I experienced.  I had to lay off of running for several weeks (again!!!) so I found some workouts that would help me keep much of my strength and fitness during that time.  One of those workouts was bike hill repeats which I did on Ladera Lane.  Ladera Lane is about a mile long hill with a fairly intense grade allowing for a full-on cardio-vascular effort and the building of crucial leg strength.  While my running partners hit the track on Tuesday mornings, I rode off on my bike to hit Ladera.  I began my warm up ride over to the hill around 6:00 am and there is a quietness to the morning that is like no other time.  I rode peacefully along the back roads of Montecito, said "Hi" to cute little skunks and an occasional deer along the way. These rides were nothing short of beautiful.  Serendipitous to be sure.  A prelude to the reminders to come: a curse is only a curse if you see it that way.  If you choose to see it as a blessing instead, well then a curse is really a blessing.  The power of perspective.  Read on.

Cresting the top of Ladera Lane

It was on one of these mornings that it first happened.  I was completing my final repeat (4th one) and rolling back down the hill when some kind of creature (insect) thumped into my ribs, immediately after which a searing hot sting rippled out from the point of impact.  I never saw what thumped into me but whatever it was, it either had big teeth or a big stinger.  It penetrated right through my shirt.  I kept my cool and didn't freak out and crash.  I waited until I reached the bottom of the hill and took a look.  There was a big red welt on my left ribs (ground zero) and waves of pain throbbed.  I didn't make too much of this experience.  I was glad at least that I didn't have more repeats to do and instead was able to ride the long cool down back home.  Something about the sting and the pain entered my psyche while I rode and profound thoughts came to me.  There was venom in me. Was it a bee, was it a wasp, was it something else? It's always an uneasy feeling when a small amount of a deadly substances enters your bloodstream.  

The next Tuesday morning rolled around and I left for my Ladera repeats while my friends (and husband) hit the track for their workout.  It was again a quiet, peaceful journey through dim emerging morning sunlight, with a steamy mist of humidity in the air.  I got going with my repeats.  By the way, Ladera repeats are fun and intense.  It's hard to get up that hill and as I pumped my legs for 8 minutes up, I imagined my running partners on the track. I must have been breathing just as hard, pushing through pain and fatigue just like they were.  This helped me find value and quality in my workout up Ladera.  On my third repeat, as I was rolling down, an insect flew right into my shirt through the open collar.  My shirt was loose fitting so I felt it fly in but because I was riding fairly fast downhill, I couldn't really do anything about it.  And there it was again, a searing pain hit me.  At least this time I knew the identity of the creature. It was a large bee (not a typical honey bee).  As soon as I could apply enough pressure to my breaks, I came to a halt so I could release the trapped insect. My first and foremost concern was that I get it freed from my clothing.  It must have been so frightened.  He flew away and there embedded in my left rib cage was his stinger. Remarkably, it was within a centimeter of last week's ground zero.  I pulled the stinger out, and continued down the hill.  I had one more repeat to do so this time I had to deal with this new burning sensation AND perform another intense effort.  All the while my mind was working over-time.  

Two weeks in a row, two stings in a row and both of them basically in the exact location. This is great fodder for profound life lessons to form in my already tender psyche.  I took it as a sign.  If these two poor little bees felt they needed to sacrifice themselves by stinging me, gosh darn it, it was going to mean something important to me.  If only I had a pen and paper with me as the adrenaline surged following the second sting.  

This was what I took away from this repetition of an otherwise uncommon occurrence (prior to this I'd only been stung three times in 46 years).  

I learned that pain is often our friend. While I don't know if this is medically true, I imagined that venom bringing healing to my injuries.  Venom creates inflammation and inflammation triggers the body's immune system and defenses.  

I learned that it is possible to push through pain and necessary to do so if you want to achieve your goals (that is if you have goals like mine).

I learned that I can control myself and deal with an unexpected situation, both by NOT crashing on my bike and also by not losing focus.  

I learned that I can have one part of my body afflicted with injury TWICE in a row and still get up and find a way.  The fact that these stings happened on consecutive weeks in the same spot is not lost on me.  Nothing is coincidence and everything can be used for something positive. At no time did I think either of these stings were a negative.  From the moment I felt the pain my mind set to deal with it.  There was a little bit of "rub a little dirt on it and go back out and play" mentality in play. 

There are unknowns that are unknown until they become known. One constant unknown for me is how I will react regarding bike handling when something unexpected happens.  At least now I know how I handle a bee in my shirt while going fast down a hill, anticipating the sting before it happens but unable to prevent it.  

If I were to get real deep, I could go on and on regarding how this is a metaphor for so many things in life and the good thing is that my mind went to all those deep places as I reflected on this.  I won't share all of that here but let's just say, I learned a long time ago that the right approach to ANYTHING that happens is to accept if for what it is and nothing more. A bad thing is really just a blessing in disguise.  Good things happen, bad things happen, there are blessings, there are challenges. But really there is no need to differentiate them from one another.  See everything as a blessing. See everything as an opportunity.  "Consider it pure joy when you face trials of many kinds." Why?  Because in the end they result in a better "YOU" if you embrace them positively.  To what degree a person is able to do this in my opinion largely determines their character and general outlook on life.

Those bee stings set me on a new course.  I became hopeful that I would soon heal and be competing again.  I was reminded that pain is my friend and that things break and heal, and one day maybe break again. But there is always hope.  I was reminded of goals ahead and set my focus there.  

I wondered for a while if I would get stung a third time.  I kept going to Ladera at the same time on Tuesdays week after week and kept riding past the bee area (I assume there was a hive nearby). I didn't shy away and I didn't fear the sting.  The third sting never came.  But I expect it will sometime in the future.

2016 The Runner Becomes a Triathlete

2016 is going to be a big year!  To begin with, my singular New Year's resolution is to begin posting to my blog once again.  What a blessed outlet it will be to the chronicles of this new year, which includes some great goals and exciting races.  After a year long comeback from yet another Achilles injury, I proceeded to injure it again within a week of finally declaring it fully healed (something having to do with putting spikes on and running all out 200's on tired, fatigued legs, not recommended).  This re-injury took place in May of 2015 and laid waste to my running and triathlon plans for the Summer and Fall.  But this is all in the past and things are once again healed and I am moving in the right direction to get back to form. Just in time for some 2016 goals!

Goal #1 - Back in October 2015, even though injured and under-trained, I, along with John, competed in Ironman 70.3 Arizona (in Tempe, AZ).  I worked hard on the bike to try and overcome my lack of overall endurance and weak running.  Two-thirds of the race (the swim and bike) went rather well resulting in a slot to the Ironman 70.3 World Championships to be held September 4, 2016 in Sunshine Coast, Australia.  This is now my main goal and focus for the year and in order to make this opportunity a dream-come-true , I have to let go of the "runner" in me and embrace the "triathlete" in me.  Up to this point, my involvement in triathlon has been from the perspective and training strategy of "a runner who sometimes does a triathlon." This year I am fully a triathlete.  To solidify it I sought the expertise and experience of one of our local legends, Fred Maggiore, to help me put three sports together into a seamless, perfect race.  With John Abrami coaching my swim and Nash Jimenez coaching my running, Fred is making me into a cyclist and helping me pull it all together.  I am grateful beyond words and want to make them proud.

Goal #2 - Set up a racing schedule that both satisfies the runner in me but also gets me ready for a triathlon world championship.  This includes three key running races lined up for February and early April, and one key "B" race 70.3.  

• February 6, 2016 - USATF National Cross-Country Championships (Bend, OR)
• February 28, 2016 - USATF National Masters 8K Road Championships (Brea, CA)
• April 3, 2016 - Carlsbad 5000 (Carlsbad, CA)
• May 7, 2016 - Ironman 70.3 St. George (St. George, UT)

Each of these races are important to me and each one will serve as a building block toward the ultimate goal.  

After a short "off-season" in late October through November (in which I worked on an endurance base, gaining back strength post-injury, and a gentle reprieve from intensity), we began adding back quality and speed into the training schedule in preparation for the upcoming XC race in Bend.  We welcomed back early morning intervals on the grass, trail runs on Romero Canyon (these were new) and brick workouts amidst the normal regimen of Masters swimming, bike rides and long runs.

Enjoying a swift sunrise - exhilerating

With a slow build of strength, I am beginning to feel the pop and spring return to my feet and the excitement of competition is again beginning to seep back into my pores. Santa Barbara must be one of the best locations to train in the Winter. Early morning hard efforts in 50 degree temperatures is about as good as it gets.  The sunrises are spectacular and running with others with common goals is priceless.  I am drinking it all in, thanking God for so many rich blessings.

XC Training at Chase Palm Park

On January 1, 2016 it was time to run a time trial and find out where I am at this point (I hadn't done a serious competitive road race since March 2015). The perfect opportunity to do this was via the SBAA 2016 Resolution Day 5K and 10K.  The 5K was the time trial and the 10K was the strength-builder.  The day could not have been more perfect.  No noticeable wind, crisp and sunny with ideal 55 degree air, and an excited group of runners and walkers ready to start the new year on the right foot!

I have only recently been feeling good again so I was so excited to toe a starting line with motivation and an ambitious goal.  I really just wanted to run with confidence, run hard all the way to the finish line and I hoped I would be happy with the result.  I had a super awesome group to race with and was fortunate to be tucked in with them for the first couple of miles (Matt Trost, Jamie Haggar, Gary Dempster and a few others). A strong group and a great way to settle into a solid pace for as long as I could.  My disappointment came only in the fact that I couldn't hold the pace for the last mile and fell off a bit.  It was what it was and told me exactly what I needed to know.  My speed and leg strength is good, my endurance and VO2 are still a work in progress but at least progressing in the right direction.  I was hoping for something around an 18:20 but ended up with an 18:48.  So now I know where I'm at.  Mission accomplished.

Resolution Day 5K Finish 2016

And so it begins.  The first steps into 2016 with exciting goals ahead.  Armed with incredible coaching and mentoring, amazing training partners, a power meter, heart rate monitor and dreams.  Every day is an important step, every workout an essential piece. This will be the year of no regrets because I intend to give everything I am to these God given opportunities and live life to the fullest.

I'll see you out there!  I know I'm not the only one with 2016 goals.  May all of yours be set and accomplished as well!

The Art of Injury Recovery - Yes there is an Art to it!

Lately, my favorite motto is - I'd rather my body be hurting because I'm using it rather than it be hurting because I'm not.  Pushing your body in athletic endeavors provides great dividends but the down-side is that sometimes injuries happen.  While our bodies are made for action, maybe born to run, bred to swim or conditioned to bike, eventually we push it just a bit too far, train a little too hard, ignore warning signs, and neglect preventative therapies.  Fortunately or unfortunately, some athletes get very good at injury recovery - like me.  I'm almost a profession injury "recoverer."  Here are some things I've learned.


A few years back, in early 2010 I had been enjoying a great season of training, racing and improving performance.  I was in my early 40's at that time and felt like I'd been born again into a new running career as a master athlete and I felt invincible. After a long year of racing that included a Half Ironman, a bike race, 5 half marathons, some 10K's, 8K's and 5K's and even a road mile, all without even a hint of injury, I began setting my sights and training on a particular early Winter half marathon "target race."  The previous races were strength and confidence builders but the target race was serious.  Preparation went well until a few weeks before when I felt a weird pain in my left Achilles tendon during the cool down of my speed workout.  "No problem," I told myself.  I'll lay off a few days, let it recover, and I'll be right back to full training without anything lost.  The problem was, when I tried to run a few days later it was absolutely no better.  A few more days off and then another try, and the pain remained.  I remember feeling panicked as my race, my precious, serious targeted race was only a week away.  Was I losing the fitness I worked so hard to gain?  Was I even going to be able to run?  In the end and to make that particular long story a bit shorter, I did not recover from the injury but attempted the race anyway.  I ran 4 of the 13.1 miles, pulled out of the race, limped and dragged my devastated self back to the starting area and spent the next 8 months trying to recover from this simple little Achilles injury.  Eight months.  Eight months of laying off, thinking I was letting it heal, trying to run, trying to run through the pain, having to lay off again and again and again.  Before long I wondered if I'd ever recover. 


Finally it did in fact heal, however I can't say it healed well.  Fast forward only 4 short months and one day during one of my interval workouts on the track, I felt a pain develop in my Right Achilles.  Different leg, same exact injury.  Apparently my Achilles heel is my Achilles heel.  But surely I would address this one a bit smarter having learned a thing or two from the previous year.  Nope.  I had the same experience and attempted the same things to recover from this new injury.  And I had the same result only this time, 8 months came and went and it still had not healed.  Every runner will relate to the absolute mental and physical anguish that comes with injury.  The inability to do what you love, an isolation from your training community, a fear of what the future holds, anger every time you see someone else run happily and pain-free down the road, sadness at watching opportunities pass you by while you're side-lined.  Particularly for a master runner, you begin to look at the passing months as parts of your running life you will never be able to get back.  After close to a year of this anguish, I finally turned to John and said, "I can't do this anymore.  I can't hurt, I can't try to train through it, I can't wait for it to heal, I can't discipline myself to get better.  I need help."


Particularly with sports related injuries that were somewhat obvious, I wasn't one to go to a doctor.  With what I was suffering with, I told myself time and again, there isn't anything anyone can do to make this better.  It just needed to heal.  With that mental obstacle standing in the way of me and running, I needed to therefore resign myself to the hope that maybe there is something that can be done, someone who can help.  This led me to the doorstep of "one of the best discoveries" I have ever had as a runner.  Dr. Ernie Ferrel. 


There was one thing I knew about this injury (and the one prior), it had a cause.  I wasn't interested in therapy.  I was interested in full healing and prevention of further injury.  Dr. Ferrel did his first evaluation and  in doing so squeezed the area that had been injured for almost a full year - and I almost went  through the roof.  It was still acutely injured and tender.  His evaluation revealed a leg length discrepancy, which could be considered a "cause" but because he thinks the way I hoped he would, he knew there was another reason why the legs were off.  I had bio-mechanical imperfections that over time caused a chain reaction.  And there were causes  to the bio-mechanical imperfections.  Not only did the Achilles need help to heal but other areas needed work.


The first thing Dr. Ferrel did was pulled me completely off of running.  I had attempted many lay-offs from running with no good results (which always therefore tempted me to just run through the pain), but he needed me to discontinue the aggravation to the injury.  He was not going to allow me to run again until this thing was well under control and also until the area of cause was also under control.  So I followed instructions but the difference was that this time there was a plan and a purpose and I wasn't relying on my own discipline. I felt like this lay-off was going to be different.


Within a few weeks, with all of his arsenal of tools to heal, and his knowledge of anatomy, physiology and the mind of an athlete, experience with the highest level of athletes, Dr. Ferrel worked what I considered to be a near miracle.  How long had I tried to work through this stubborn injury?  And within a few weeks there was clear progress.  The Achilles was in bad shape and whatever prior healing had taken place was not functional.  I had developed scar tissue that was in fact non-functional and restrictive.  Left to heal as it had been, I might well have ended my running career.  Instead, I was infused with hope and confidence as Dr. Ferrel had me back on my feet and training for my next race.


That was over two years ago.  As much as I'd love to think I am invincible, I certainly learned that I am in fact NOT.  My plan is to train and to train hard.  I have goals as a runner and I'm going to pursue those.  So ... Dr. Ferrel is an integral part of my training plan now.  Two and a half years later I am still and regularly in Dr. Ferrel's office.  I have benefited 100 fold for this very smart decision.  I batter my body and Dr. Ferrel basically puts it back together or helps keep it together - some of both I think.


Recently, as mentioned in my last post, I did in fact injure my left Achilles once again.  This was the same one (the original one) that took 8 months to heal last time and when it finally did heal, it had healed badly.  Re-injury was somewhat inevitable. 


Here's the reason why I write this post today.  I injured the left Achilles two months ago - my fault totally and I knew I was pushing it too far.  Today (two months later) I am running hard again.  With the help of this amazing doctor who not only knows what to do, but cares about this patients, cares about our efforts, goals, hopes, who himself is an athlete and a coach, we caught it early, dealt with it properly and the outcome has been amazing.  I have not had the words to express the gratitude as I feared the worst would again happen, but instead the best has happened.


What I have learned in the process:
1. I do not have the discipline within myself to NOT run when I need to not run.  I need someone who I trust to tell me not to run and tell me when it's ok again.  I need that.
2. To get the full benefit of injury treatment and prevention, it needs to be a part of my training plan.  I go 2-8 times per month without fail and I see this as just as important as my long run, my cross-training, my mental preparation, my quality workouts. 
3. If you want to heal, you have to let go of the control you think you have and give it to the one who can help.
4. Do everything Dr. Ferrel says to do.  I keep a training journal for Dr. Ferrel and myself and it reflects not only what I am doing but how it is affecting me and it is used to gage the next move.
5. Don't just get treatment when you're injured.  Get treatment as part of your recovery and to prevent injury.


I would like to thank you Dr. Ferrel from the bottom of my heart.  As hard as it has been to deal with yet another Achilles injury, it is behind me so quickly that I can almost be thankful for it.  Yes, I missed some races and have had to sit on the side-lines for a bit, and yes I'll have to work hard to gain back what I might have lost but I also learned how to heal properly, I was forced into an off-season that I needed anyway, I have gained confidence, I have had my hunger for running re-charged.  I'm getting older and wiser I guess.

April Running Brings May or May Not

Spring has come and gone quickly this year.  We had such a beautiful warm Winter, I hardly remember Spring coming at all and we have now moved into the marine layer months of June, with Summer fast approaching.  Running has just been one blessing after another throughout this time, with some of the big races done and in the past, a big ones to come in the near future.  The middle weeks have been a time of regrouping and deciding what my ragged body can handle moving forward.


In April I tried to back off a bit, at least mentally.  I decided I wanted to do the Wine Country Half Marathon in May so while I was hoping to get a bit of a reprieve from the stresses of racing hard, I also found myself needing to add a bit of mileage in preparation. Was this a good idea?  The half marathon was to be followed by the State Street Mile and Vicki's 3000.  As much as I'd like to believe a runner can excel at varying distances, this posed a dilemma for me.  I had been racing 5K's (with an occasional longer one thrown in) so all of my training was quite specific to shorter road racing.  So to jump up to the half marathon and then straight back down to the mile meant some changes in my training pattern.


I was very excited to do the Wine Country half marathon.  I had heard for years how amazing the race and the course was and often I had considered it but never quite got my mind and heart into it until this year.  I blame it on Desa.  She has such a positive flow so when she describes something that she really loves, everyone just gets sucked right in.  One day on a track workout cool-down she begins describing the atmosphere, the excitement, the beauty of the course, on and on.  I tend to be impulsive with some types of decisions and on that cool-down I resolutely exclaimed, "I'm in!"  And if I decide it, it happens.  Thankfully my race times and running resume qualified me for an elite entry.  I quickly applied for the entry, was excepted, and BAM, I'm super-glued in.


Now that the half marathon was on the schedule, the remainder of April meant prepping specifically for it.  I squeezed in one more late April race for "fun", the Gaucho Gallop 5K in near hurricane force winds, and trialed a pair of compressive De Soto tri-shorts that I planned to wear in the half.  I increased my long run to 15 miles but with a short few weeks before the race, I only did one or two at that distance and that was less than ideal.  My overall mileage was good (just about as much as I could handle physically) but to really do well at the half-marathon, the single long run of the week really needs to be consistently and considerably longer than race distance.  This was one of the challenges in transitioning race distances.  But I did what I could do and that was that.


The week before the race, I modified my diet so that it was very low fiber.  I focused on BRAT (bananas, rice, apple sauce, toast) for several days because I tend to have GI issues when I race and the longer the race, the worse it is.  I was determined to avoid that this time. 


This was the first race I'd done where I was able to enjoy the perks of qualifying as an elite.  Destination Races, who organize this and several other Wine Country half marathons, provide amazing services for the athletes.  I felt a tinge of guilt slipping into the athlete warming room while everyone else was outside freezing in the early morning fog but I did it for one reason!  To get access to my very own toilet.  That's all I wanted because toilet timing is crucial and there were lines for meters standing at the porta-potties.  Inside the athlete warming room (it was a really nice warm place) there was also a table full of energy food and scattered about on the floor, were very thin and fit runners stretching.  I saw the speedy ladies I'd be racing against, and a lot of folks from the Newton racing team.  Newton was the title sponsor so thus these Boulder runners abounded. 


Wow, I was enjoying this race already.  I felt very little nerves (I have no idea why) and was so excited.  I had trained a bit on the course the few weeks prior and it was almost perfect for me.  Well at least miles 7-13.1 were perfect for me.  Miles 1-7 were basically all up a "false flat" so that was kind of a bummer but at least those were going to be the fresher miles.  Cool, perfect air, some wind but not as bad as I'd thought considering there was a wind advisory in effect.  Lots of familiar faces and many unfamiliar ones too.  I had on my De Soto tri-shorts, my Oiselle/SBRunCo pinky top and a pair of amazing Hoka's I was wear-testing.  Everything in the outfit was purposefully planned and represented excellent companies.  The Hoka's are a new model designed more for racing and running at faster paces and I had been wearing them for about a week or two up to that point.  I loved them and for some reason I was just SO excited to be racing in them!


Boom, the gun went off.  Here is a quick recap of the events that followed.  The first 5 miles felt harder than they should have considering how slow I was running but such is the nature of "false flats."  I had familiar faces of fast folks around me so I didn't worry too much but hoped the latter half would go well.  At some point in there I settled into third overall female with neither of the two ahead of me anywhere to be seen.  They were slated to run sub 1:20's which I was not capable of so I figured they were up there floating along having a good ol' time.  I was more focused on my actual time and personal performance.  We hit a hard headwind around the 5th mile, finally turned the corner and somehow still had a headwind (how does that happen), and then came the daunting Corkscrew hill.  This was the mountain we needed to get over so that we could get to the rolling hills of the vineyards.  Basically I felt like I was going to puke by the time I dragged my rear-end up that 1/2 mile switch-back laden obstacle.  I crested the top and I ran out of my tangent line to grab some water and took a few steps of walking to ensure I got the fluid into me rather than all over me, and then headed down the lovely backside and this was where I fell in love with this course.  From there (mile 7) until about mile 11, there were rolling hills which trended more down than up.  I completed one of these middle miles in 5:45 and I had a small glimmer of hope that I could take back some of the time I lost at the beginning.  Until the 11th mile I floated and enjoyed and marveled at how much I love running.  I had an odd running companion join me for a bit.  There was a dog that joined our race way back in the first or second mile and was running with us.  I assume he came from one of the homes and here he was running alongside me around mile 8 or 9.  He finally fell back but that was just fun!  Basically as much as I enjoyed the downward slope, my legs were becoming quite fatigued so that when I came to the final hills before the finish I basically felt like I hit a wall.  I have to run up THAT?  And they moved us to the right so we couldn't run the tangents on those corners.  I somehow made it up those last few hills (thank goodness for the down hills between) and finally descended into Solvang and made the turn for the finish. I had not looked at my watch in a long while so I really had no sense of what my overall time was and I have to say I was a bit disappointed when I saw the clock as I approached.  I was two minutes slower than I wanted to be.  Maybe I had set too high a goal or maybe I just hadn't spent enough time specifically preparing, or maybe it was the course or the wind conditions, but it was what it was.  I did finish 3rd overall female so that was a really nice accomplishment. Final time was 1:24:34.


The finishing chute was a blast.  Everyone lingered and cheered and met up with the other finishers and were just so happy.  We grouped up for a cool-down.  Every last one of us had extreme fatigue and jello legs, even Ricky.  Then there was the elite athlete refreshment tent, WHAT?  It was awesome.  Food, all sorts of drinks, wonderful people helping us with every possible need.  Massages!  I didn't get a massage but I could have if I wanted and that was really cool.  The awards ceremony was crazy fun because lots of people had spent lots of time in the wine-tasting area.  They did the overall awards first and so I was called up.  The nice girl mistakenly handed all of the overall winner stuff to me.  She hadn't caught the part where they said I was third.  I was like, "Wow, this is awesome."  I had a bunch of stuff and my arms full and a big smile in front of all these people.  And then I noticed that the girl who got second place only got one thing and it was sort of small.  By the time they called up the overall winner the nice girl realized she had "oops" made a mistake and she took all of my neat stuff away from me and handed me a single small thing.  Inside the small thing was a check for $200 so I soon became happy again.  The overall winner also broke the course record so she actually was award $1100 and one of those huge, over-sized, "photo-opportunity" checks.  Deep sigh.

So that was really fun.  Desa was right and I am so glad I did that half marathon.  But that led to the next training dilemma.  How to get my body ready for a fast road mile and a fast track 3000 with only a few weeks to prepare.  This is where I sort of, well not sort of, DID make a very bad decision.  Against coaches orders I dove fast and hard into the next track practice on very fatigued legs, feeling of course quite invincible until the final two intervals when I began to feel something familiar in my left Achilles tendon.  And it was done.  If there's ever a warning, I always miss it.  I go from being totally fine to being totally not fine in a matter of minutes.  The next day I ran in complete pain and I knew my race plans were about to change dramatically.  I made an emergency appointment to my awesome sports doc hoping, hoping, hoping he would say, "aw, it's not so bad.  A few days rest and you'll be fine."  That's not was he said.  He actually said a lot of things but I can't quite remember because I wasn't really listening.  I think he said "we're catching it early which is good but no running until this heals" but I'm not sure.  So therefore I rested it a few days and then ran, and ran again, and a couple of more time so that I ran myself into a downward spiral.  And to cap it off, I did one final hard race in the sand at our tri-clubs Battle in the Sand.  Ah it felt so good to race but it hurt so bad.  On my next visit to the doc I actually began listening to what he was saying.  Let me just sum it up: you can't recover from an Achilles injury while running and continually re-injuring it.  You must stop running, let it heal and let me do what I can to get you back as quickly as possible.  I think that's what he said.  I then resigned myself to no State Street Mile and no Vicki's 3000 but with some luck and a lot of discipline and the therapy of an amazing doctor, I might be back soon and possibly in time for the next big race on my schedule.


Deep breath.  I've been doing that a lot.  Taking deep breaths.  I met someone at the State Street mile as I was watching runners finish.  He approached and asked me if I was Cindy.  Yes!  As it turns out, he was a race director and although I hadn't recalled receiving it, he told me he had emailed me a while back.  He was organizing a Festival of Miles in San Diego's Balboa stadium to commemorate the 50th anniversary of Jim Ryun's first high school sub-4 mile and he had a Master's mile in which he asked me to compete.  He had also invited many of the women I race nose to nose with.  I'm sure I had a sad look on my face as with unbelieving eyes I informed him "alas, for I am injured and cannot run in your event."  Deep breath.  How many opportunities like that can one expect?  Probably not many.  In fact that one was a "once in a lifetime" opportunity because I said hopefully, "I would love to do it next year though!"  To which he replied, "oh, well this is just a one-time event."  Is there ever a good time to be injured?