The Don't Run, Run Faster Training Plan (alternate title: Hood To Coast – Round One)

We all know that I am an elliptical whiz. I dominate that beast in every distance from 5K to 20 miles. But how does running less than 10 miles a week combined with elliptical training translate into 200-mile-relay-race-running-readiness? We're about to find out...

In the days leading up to the start of Hood to Coast, I vacillated between feeling super calm and unstressed and freaking OUT about the fact that I would be cramming double my weekly running mileage into less than a 24-hour window of time. Ummm...yeah. Can we say 'feeling a little undertrained'? Just a weensy bit. Kinda, sorta.

Whenever I would go to that scary place, I would remind myself of the hours on the elliptical, the effectiveness of heart rate training and reassure myself with the memory of having physically run on the ground for 7 miles the week before the race to prove to my legs that, in fact, they could go the distance...of at least that first leg :P

Flashing on my enjoyable mile and a half run the morning of my flight up to Nuun in Seattle assuaged my fears...somewhat. And once in Seattle, I knew better than to try and 'fit in' with the real runners...going on a 'shakeout' run that was longer in distance than my training runs and more than half my normal weekly mileage would have been a mistake. Babying my hip was of tantamount importance. I wanted to at least start the race feeling tip-top.

So the babying was helping things feel not painful, but I could tell that my legs (and mind) were stagnating. Not good. Needing a little leggy wake-up call, I scurried off to the hotel exercise room for 5 speedy minutes on the elliptical before bed on Thursday night. It not only helped get my blood pumping and my muscles moving, it was a great way to discharge some stressful b.s. from my personal life that had been worming its way into my outstanding Nuun Hood to Coast Experience. B.S. must be BANISHED!

When I awoke Friday morning as Caroline was preparing to depart with the Van 1 runners, I started getting antsy all over again. A call from home didn't help. I tried to blog to get my mind back on matters immediately at hand. Ehhhhh....sort of worked. Then Harmony got up and went for breakfast. I ate in the room and pretended to repack my exploded duffel bag. When she returned, I realized how close it was to 'GO' time. Sh*t! I wasn't ready. I started panicking.

Four minutes on the Machine of Pleasure (yes, I am referring to the elliptical) and I was lucid, placid, ready...and a leeetle bit late for the 11 a.m. departure. Sorry, ladies! Believe me...you're super glad I was late and didn't bring the entirety of that emotional mess into the van!

Grounded and centered and laden with plenty of fueling items that would work with my imperfect digestive system, I climbed aboard the vessel...

I don't know who I stole this from...and it isn't even Van 2, it's Van 1. But they were almost exactly the same. So we're going with it.

...and off we went...next stop... Panera about 20 minutes away for lunch :P  so anticlimactic!

And then...Sandy – the first major van exchange in the Hood to Coast Relay!

As we were en route to Sandy where our first runner (#7 – Erin...our awesome Nuun employee teammate) would take the hand-off from Van 1's last runner (#6 – Nicole) at around 7 o'clock in the evening, this is what the Van 1 runners were doing...

photo by nicole

Yeah, pretty spectacular. 

Kind of way more spectacular than a Safeway parking lot!

photo by corey

Team Breakfast 

(aka Team Morning Van 1...our predecessors)

Corey (#2), Nicole (#6), Jess (#4), Tricia (#1), Stephanie (#3), Caitlin from Nuun (#5)

As they were enjoying the high mountain air and kicking off the running for us, we were driving...and tweeting...and texting...

I was super lucky and sat in the back again. 

And they were all so gracious (or intimidated) and let me be there. 

I am so appreciative of this...and so apologetic if it is because they felt intimidated :(

...calming pre-race jitters....

"Does Washington have an open-container law?

Shhhhh...it's just #lemontea..."

...rolling out stiff muscles...

Double-teaming with the Tiger Tail...

Take that, QL! And THAT, gastrocnemius!

...alleviating some tension and attempting to speed up slow-moving 'systems'...

Take THAT, constipation!

The Tiger Tail does it all!

We finally rolled into the glorious Sandy Safeway parking lot late in the afternoon and parked next to a delightful stand of Honey Buckets (portable toilets) whereupon we commenced chatting up Nuun to other competitors and applying Nuun temporary tattoos...

photo by megan

The tat train...

Emily not watching, Elizabeth, me half-undressed, Erin, and Amanda on her knees.

Then we needed to start getting ready to actually run. We'd been on the road and waiting for hours, starting at 11 a.m. and now it was approaching 6 p.m. I still had 5 hours before I would run, but we needed to get Erin ready. With the nighttime safety rules going into effect at 6 o'clock, we needed a reflective vest with front AND back flashers and either a handheld light or a headlamp. We couldn't find any of this stuff in our van. Go, us! Oh, and we still didn't have our race bibs! Where o where are you, Van 1?

Finally, we located some vests. Then Erin pulled out her keychain...it had an LED flasher on it! I reached into my god-awfully humongous bag and pulled out...

a sewing kit!

because of course one would take a sewing kit on a distance running relay. 

you might need to, you know, sew something along the way!

don't anyone ever give me sh*t about my big bag again...

and now you know another reason why almost-50-year old ladies can be good to have on your team!

I stitched that keychain on the vest, we scrounged another flasher, Van 1 showed up with our bibs, and Erin sped off! Her leg was pretty grueling with a never-ending series of rolling hills. We whooped and hollered. We let her know she was the boss of those hills!

We even power-arched her!

GO, ERIN!

She handed off to Elizabeth, who took off so fast that she looked as if she had blurry roadrunner legs like from the cartoon...

Go, speedy girl! 

And then it was dark and you couldn't really see any of us. Unless you were a car with headlights that reflected off the safety vests.

Elizabeth handed off to Katie who did an amazing job on a long, dark road while encountering some unsavory types. She was followed by Amanda who set herself a blistering pace...and then hurt her leg :( It was debatable whether she would be okay ... and it's kind of tough to pamper someone in a van with no light and limited pampering supplies. We all felt super badly for her and tried to comfort her as best we could and hoped that 9 hours would heal the wound. I felt kind of like an ass because I was pretty distracted since Amanda had just handed off to Jennifer (the runner immediately before me in the rotation) who runs crazy fast. Her predicted finish time for that 4- or 5-mile leg was something like 5 minutes. I knew it would take us at least that long to just get out of the parking lot.

We got Amanda into the van and somewhat comfortable and headed to where I would begin my first stint. Upon parking, I realized that not only did I have to relieve myself but that the exchange set up was different from last year and very far from parking to hand-off. I didn't wait for anyone to come with me...I don't think I even waited for the van to stop moving. I jumped out and took off running the approximately 0.437 miles to the hand-off zone. Thankfully, there was a lone Honey Bucket right there...which I used. I had just stepped out and asked Random Runner Girl next to me if my flashers were on when Jennifer handed me the slappy strap and I was running Leg 12. Woo Hoooooo!!!!!!

I looked like this...

...possessed eyeballs and all lit up... 

but in a sparkly purple skirt and neon yellow sports bra.

And this year I wore my Buzz Lightyear Garmin wrist protector...

to infinity and beyond!

And something happened.

All my anxiety melted away.

Running by heart rate...I aimed to keep it between 145 and 150 for the body of the run and then bump it up a little in the last mile. 146 to 148...right on the money the whole way. I felt like I was floating. I knew I wasn't running fast because I got passed by people who were running fast, but when I peeked at the lap pace screen on my watch I was a little freaked by what I saw...but heart rate was in the zone so I just went with it and enjoyed :) I was alone for most of the run...similar to last year. I ran faster than last year with less running under my belt. My hip didn't hurt. I fell madly in love with running all over again.

I came into the exchange chute several minutes ahead of schedule...and quickly found a not-quite-ready Tricia, handed her the bracelet and I was done... for the next 9 hours.

But where was Lindsay? Another Nuun runner had taken a wrong turn somewhere back there. Fortunately, she found her way without too much of a detour, but that is exactly why I wrote such detailed course reports last year...to help prevent that from happening to future Leg 12 runners! It pays to read my blog ;-)

photo by zoe

So glad she was safe!

Able to relax once Lindsay showed up, I walked a little and then ate in the van and cleaned myself up while my vanmates went out to a midnight dinner and enjoyed a couple of beers. We drove to the next major van exchange and tried to get some sleep.

About 2 and a half hours of sleep.

****************************

Stats for my first leg...Leg 12:

finish time ... 53:17

the official course gives it 6.37 miles (which computes to 8:22 avg pace)
my infallible Garmin showed 6.21 miles (yielding a slightly more realistic 8:34 avg pace)

Way faster than I imagined and faster even than last year when I was actually running in training...albeit consistently injured.

You'd think I was some kind of attention-monger...

Of course I am...I write a blog, people.

An announcement was made today...

We found out our specific teams and leg assignments for the Hood to Coast Relay...you can click that image to see who is running what with whom :)

Upon selection to the Nuun team, we were asked to submit our top three preferences of runner position (there are 12 possibilities...I actually submitted 5 choices) in the hopes that everyone would be accommodated. I am feeling incredibly fortunate for I was given my first choice!

Glam-O-Rama.

Yes, the same as last year! I have the same sentimental attachment to this set of legs as I did last year...and if you missed that dissertation, click on the words...word?... Glam-O-Rama above and you will be taken to the story, in addition to an initial analysis of the legs I will be running.

Leg 12

Leg 24

Leg 36

Finding out what legs I will be running and whose lap I'll be sitting on for 30+ hours has definitely made it all seem more real. August can't come soon enough! I am beyond excited to be spending quality time in a van with a some new faces and some old friends while racing from the top of Mt. Hood to lovely Seaside, Oregon :)

Is it too early to start packing? Probably...


An awesome and hilarious evaluation of Vans 1 and 2 by Jason Effmann can be found here... click!
(Note: the click takes you to Van 2...because it's the best. You need to click the "hood to coast" label in the sidebar and hunt for Van 1 because it was squirrelly when I tried to link it...but that's Van 1 for ya).

{Leg 12...Love the dark} 2011 Hood to Coast Relay – Nuun-style: The Miniseries, Part 3

Time to run...

All day I'd been sitting around, waiting for this moment.

I had seen and heard 10 runners before me.

I'd stayed hydrated with water and Nuun and fueled with gluten-free protein bars and my breadless Quiznos sandwich to the best of my abilities.

I'd ground my hip and glutes and quads and hamstrings all fresh and pliable with The Stick (my absolute life-saver).

I was ready.

Leg 12. Total darkness. Bring it on.

My super fly, homemade, reflective Nuun-logo singlet didn't pass inspection...

I had to wear a vest with blinkers front and back.

I opted to wear a headlamp instead of carrying a flashlight, and it worked out wonderfully.

I wore it like a girly-girl headband, keeping my hair out of my face, 

instead of like a Jimmy Connors sweatband going across my forehead.

And it was CAMOUFLAGE ;-)

Yes, those are paw-prints on my butt :)

Thank you, Flashbrite!

My anticipated start time was 9:01 p.m. We parked about 20 minutes before, after negotiating some wicked crazy traffic. Not feeling stressed, just a little anxious. I was feeling remarkably and uncharacteristically chill given the fact that it was about 80ºF and I had been waiting all de doo dah day... watching everyone else get her relay groove on. I think they spiked my Nuun with something to keep me so chill ;-)

I had expected it to be cool since it was dark. Silly me.

I opted not to carry water because it was only about 10K and I am used to running 10K at 9 p.m. without carrying water. Silly me.

Lights and flashers were turned on. I was standing next to a path in the middle of a residential neighborhood... in the dark... with a whole bunch of other runners who were also waiting for their Leg 11 person to appear out of the darkness. I loved that the volunteers were stationed at intervals a short ways up and called out the numbers of incoming runners. I was jumping in place (ballistic stretching ;-) ), keeping my eyes glued to the oncoming stream of runners and my ears wide open to hear our number.

"981!"

"Here she comes! Get ready! Other side of the path! You're gonna kick ass! There she is! Got it? Go! Go! GO!"

A sweaty Sgt. Style held out the slappy strap and I grabbed it, turned and fled... into the darkness for 6.37 miles... it was not at all what I had envisioned.

At first, I was running all by myself on a path in a park with bushes and trees close around me. All I could see was a circle illuminated by the headlamp... so glad I had it. I had messed up my Garmin so I had no idea the whole time how long I had been running or how far. I did have a pace... sort of. But could I trust it since none of the other stuff was working? I had no idea. It told me I was running way too fast, but this first stretch felt downhill. After this park-like area, I crossed a cool-looking bridge, went down a little hill, and saw a volunteer who had me make an almost-hairpin turn into a residential neighborhood... and had my first 'roadkill' (that means I passed someone).

After running several blocks through this residential area with cracked, chunky asphalt and few streetlights, I saw volunteers who directed me some other way. And then more volunteers directing me over that-a-way. At least here I had a frame of reference in the passing of city blocks. There were some semi-busy intersections to cross, and I did have to wait twice.

At the third one of these busy-ish intersections, two cars were coming sort of fast... the front one slowed so I could cross but the behind one sped up and slammed right into him! Ooooops. I cringed, waved, shouted out 'thank you' and 'I'm sorry' and kept on running... I did call out a mini accident report to the next volunteer I encountered. Very shortly after that I was off the streets and back on a paved trail (the Springwater Trail).

I had imagined this trail to be along the Willamette. I had imagined seeing the river as I ran. Silly me.

The path felt close and humid and hot. I saw no riverbank. I saw no water. I felt as if I were running in a weird tunnel. It was very quiet. And very dark... except for the light from my headlamp. It wasn't scary, just hot and uncomfortable. And I was running hard. And I had to pee. I contemplated squatting in a bush, but that's against the rules of the HTCRelay. Lots of bicycles who looked sort of 'official' kept passing me going the other way. It was kind of a bummer that none of them ever said anything. No words of encouragement. No nothing. Silently rode by. But they scared me into not peeing in a bush. So I kind of peed in my shorts. Not a lot because I didn't want it to dribble down my legs and into my socks and shoes. Luckily, I was able to sort of control that :P

I ran along for what felt like ever. And then I heard some loud cheering and music! I thought I was nearing the end of my leg... but I knew it hadn't been long enough even though I was totally in the dark (ha ha ha) about time and distance. So I thought maybe it was a little cheering area :) You know... spectators and music and a party to urge the runners on! At about the same time that I realized this was not the case... it was a carnival and the cheering was people screaming on the roller coaster... I saw the coolest thing EVER...

XLMIC

Go

XLMIC

Go

We love you

XLMIC

things to that effect... written over and over in huge letters on the pavement! Julie again! Julie is the BEST! She made a cool sign for The Blonde Ponytail AKA Pvt. Chafe... and this for ME... and then she ran the next leg (#13) with Tricia AKA Major Miles. This saved me, Julie... I started smiling and hope was restored :)

Right after this spirit-booster, I heard what sounded like a Monster Truck rally coming from a garage... but it was just a roller hockey match. After that, things got quiet again for a long time. Just running on the dark path in the hot, humid night.

"Holy crap. How much farther?" was running through my mind. But I couldn't dwell on the unknown.

I passed a couple of people and a few super speedy people passed me. All of us exchanged a "good job!" or "way to haul!" And I peed a little more. Then one guy passed me and said "less than a mile and a half to go!" I would have kissed him if I could have caught him :) I noticed a few flashing red lights ahead on the path...more runners. I decided to catch them by the finish.

I caught up with a three of them under a big bridge. Then I dogged two more for a few minutes before picking off another. The next one was harder. Someone told us there was about a half-mile to go, and she succumbed shortly after that. It was a really really really long time... whatever distance they said... it felt like a lie. At this point, I think we were running in a waterfront park and there is the OMSI there (whatever that is... science museum, maybe?). I remembered reading in the blog 110 Pounds and Counting that this was almost the end. I was so thankful that I knew this. But it still seemed like forever. There was a longish straightaway and then a couple volunteers waving me to turn left... toward the invisible river... into what looked like a parking lot.

There was the exchange chute!

I had a hard time focusing on anything but getting into that chute... I didn't see my runner. I ran into the chute with my slappy strap off and straight, ready to hand it over.... and BOOM ... there she was, right in front of me :)  She took it and off she went.

I sort of careened over to the side of the road as my team was shouting at me. I just waved them off because I needed to walk for a second or two. I was kind of stumbling, and they saw this. Lt. Love came over to make sure I was okay and because she had to 'go', and the two of us went to visit the ubiquitous Honey Buckets (portapotties).

When we met up with our van, I found out that I came in ahead of projected time:

6.37 miles in 56:40 (I think... it was about a minute ahead of projection which was 57:35) for an 8:55 avg pace. That is really fast for me. Toss in my 10 roadkills. I was super surprised. And very pleased.

At this point, we were all tired. We piled into the van and headed to the next major exchange... the start of Leg 19... where we'd try to get some sleep. Driving down the road and seeing all the runners strung out and illuminated by flashers on their reflective vests, flashlights, and headlamps was super cool. The incredibly starry sky overhead was uplifting. The whole thing gave me chills...

En route to our 'camp', I stripped down and washed up with baby wipes and then put on fresh clothes (the basic clean-up protocol for relays, I've been told). I ate some sort of protein bar and drank my water and my Nuun. It was probably 11-ish when we finally pulled into the parking lot at where Pvt. Chafe would start her second leg at about 3:00 a.m.

A few people slept outside. Sgt. Style slept sitting up... so hardcore. Nightingale curled up in a cute little kitten-like ball on the seat. I hogged the whole back bench... well, I shared it with my duffel and a couple of other large bags. I removed my contact lenses, laid my sleeping bag across the whole lumpy mess and stretched out. I did actually sleep. Earplugs helped drown out the shouting and commotion in the parking lot.

Suddenly, the door opened and the lights came on. Time to get ready for the hand-off. Not enough time to dream.

Our van began getting ready for our second legs.

******************************

I know this is so long. It is really hard to make it shorter and really capture what it was all about. I also hope that future HTC runners might find detail useful for their own preparations. I will endeavor to pare things down somewhat as I continue to tell the story of this epic experience. I did say it was going to be a miniseries :)