How To Not Crap Yourself On the Run

It seems I have become the poop counselor. The fart correspondent. The shart expert.

I am not sure if it is good to be a pro in this area. I fear that one day I will be asked to testify in a court of law and that I will be qualified as an expert in poopology. I guess there could be worse things, but I can’t think of what they might be.

My home away from home

Today I received a question from a reader that went something or exactly like this:

“You seem honest to a fault so I'm hoping you can give me some tips. I haven't run more than a 5K because (and this is embarrassing to admit) I have "digestive issues." I'm terrified to be miles from home without a bathroom. Before a 5K, I swear, I'm in the bathroom ten times because of nerves! How do you handle long runs and races?”

“Honest to a fault?” She makes it sound like a bad thing.

All kidding aside, this is a really important subject. Runners notoriously suffer from bad cases of the trots, or at the very least an upset stomach. I’ve heard lots of theories on why this is true, the most predominant one being that when we run, the blood goes to our muscles and neglects our digestive system. This leads to cramps, turtling, and severe panic about crapping one’s pants.

You may be be a liar or you may be the exception, but this need to evacuate has happened to the best of us, to most of us. I, in particular, have been a victim one too many times.

I’ve done my best to figure out what works to avoid this messy conundrum. Following are a few sure-fire ways to minimize the risk of crapping one’s pants while running and racing:

• The single most helpful thing for me has been to eliminate or drastically reduce fiber, dairy and fatty foods up to 36 hours before a long run or race. Typically, my diet is pretty rich in roughage, whole grains, beans, etc. But, I really do change things up the days before a race. I take in lots of water and reduce my intake of fruits, vegetables, yogurt, cheese and any higher fat foods. I’ve had great success with this plan.
  
• Overly exerting myself makes things worse. On long runs, I stick to long-run pace (60 to 90 seconds slower than my ideal marathon pace), and this helps significantly. In races I am usually exerting a great deal, so this plan doesn’t work well under those circumstances.
  
• Don’t laugh, but I try to get on a strict poop schedule. I train my body by eating and sleeping with a routine in mind (as much as possible). A cup of coffee in the morning usually gets stuff going. Nine times out of ten if I can get something out before a long run or race I’m good to go. Occasionally there will be a lingering nugget in there that causes problems, but not usually. 
  
• It helps to not eat the two hours before a long run or race. Give your body time to digest your pancakes. Once, in all of my naiveté, I ate a huge bowl of beef stroganoff right before a run. This was a like a huge practical joke I played on myself.
  
• Pre-race nerves are definitely an issue and can get stuff moving when you wish it would stay put. That’s why I’ve been known to take multiple dumps on an airplane. I hate to fly and I’m nervous. Do everything in your power to minimize any extra anxiety on race day. Give yourself enough time, breathe deeply, think about the nap you will take later. Distraction is a great tool because the mind can only think about one thing at a time. Don’t let it take you hostage.
  
• I never mix gels/chews with sport’s drink. I choose one or the other. I find that mixing various sugar types and chemicals doesn’t bode well for me and my colon. Ever hear the saying, “Sport’s drinks and gel, your stomach will give you hell?”
  
• I hate to stop and do business during a race. But, it does help to have a back up plan in your mind. Know your potty options. Plan long runs around your favorite bushes or gas station bathrooms. Study your race map or drive the course so you know your potty-ops. Taking charge and knowing what to expect may reduce some poop anxiety.
  
• I know some people take Imodium to calm things down. I have not tried this mostly because that stuff constipates me. Yes, that is the point, but I find it rally messes with my system and I have a hard time getting back to normal even days later.

Here’s to crap-less runs!

Anyone have any other tips to share?

Ever had a bathroom emergency on a long run or during a race? My favorite was during the Boston Marathon last year. You can read HERE.

SUAR

Not a Deposit Like at the Bank

Right at about this time yesterday (well, a bit earlier) I was sucking in air and wondering, when the hell does this get easier?

Ken and I were on a running trail outside of Boulder.  On the drive there I was finishing up my coffee when the oatmeal I had before leaving home started to talking to my colon. It was clench clench the next few miles to the trailhead. We dodged about 45 wild turkeys and some deer before parking in the dirt lot in the middle of nowhere. We were the only ones there, so I copped a squat and covered it with pine needles because I am considerate that way.

We started climbing. The ascent is about 3 miles and is a single track, very rocky trail. It’s really not that steep (1,000 feet of gain), but you are progressing up continuously and I get a little weary of that. I kept thinking what some wise ass (Frank Shorter, Olympic gold medalist, marathon) said about hills being speed work in disguise. It did not make me feel better.  I was hoping Ken would suggest  we stop for a breather, but he didn’t.

I always do this “hoping” on runs. I “hope” the other person will suggest a break or that we will at least get to a stoplight so it will be a mandatory break.  Because GOD KNOWS I DID NOT NEED IT. However, there are no stoplights on the trail, so I was screwed.

Finally I told him I needed a quick ‘lil break. I mean he is my husband, so there is no shame in needing a freaking break, right? I mean we have been married for almost 17 mother eff’ing years and if I need a damn break I will take a damn break. NO I DON’T HAVE MY PERIOD!

We continued on, but then I got hit with stomach cramps and made a deposit. Yes, it was a direct depost because I am efficient that way. By this time I’m sure Ken was getting sick of all my starting and stopping.  The real clincher was that he was down wind from the deposit and  asked for a divorce right then and there. How is it possible to be out in nature, with the entire open sky and still smell one small offering one leaves beside the trial (not on the trail, that would be rude).

Okay, I guess we did do some climbing to get to this view

The descent was uneventful except that Ken is like a damn mountain goat, skipping and hopping over rocks and roots, while I am 895 yards behind concentrating so hard on not falling that I can’t see straight. I must have a very lazy stride (better than a lazy eye) because I am constantly getting caught on roots or slipping on rocks. Please tell me  you do this too.

Back to the car with 7 miles in 1:13 minutes. Not bad for time on the trail. If you haven’t done trail running, you should. It is the workout of the century, I promise you. Other advantages:

• The world is your toilet
• You run faster sometimes because you see bear poop and think it might be fresh
• No car exhaust, but there is SUAR exhaust
• Gorgeous scenery, peace and quiet

Tip: leaving your Garmin at home is a great idea because you are often doing 11-12 min/miles but you are breathing like you are doing 5 min/miles. Then you think, what the hell is wrong with me and you get all hard on yourself and then it is not fun.

Ever run on the trails? Come visit, I’ll take you. Like you’d want to go after reading this post.

SUAR

PS: Don’t forget my latest giveaway and your chance to win a SUAR shirt!

Treadmills Suck, But I Still Want An Answer

The treadmill and I are not friends. It started when I fell off of the damn thing a couple of years ago. After that it was all downhill. In my opinion, the only advantage of a treadmill is that there is always a bathroom nearby so you don’t have to resort to using innocent parking lots or hollowed out trees as your canvas.

This is the actual tree I defiled. If you visit me, I will take you there.

I live in Colorado, no duh. I train outside throughout the winter. You can call me a BAMF if you want. It wouldn't be the first time I’ve been called names that included the "MF.” Fortunately, although we get a fair amount of snow it never sticks around for long and the air so dry that we don’t get layers upon layers of ice forming on the roads. The trails may be a different story, however. I tend to stick to the roads in the winter months. I use my Yak Trax when necessary.

That said, I heard something interesting today in the car.

A secret about me: I LOVE talk radio. I have an XM Radio and listen to it constantly (I drive a lot for work and sometimes I just drive around town to pretend I have somewhere to go). I listen to everything from Dr. Laura to Cocks with Patrick. I would listen to Howard Stern if I had Sirius. I don’t discriminate. 

Anyway, today on Oprah Radio (yes, I am admitting to that as well), Oprah’s fitness guru, Bob Greene, said that you should never run on a “flat” treadmill because that is the equivalent to going downhill on a real road. When the hell am I going to reach the point in my life where I know everything and nothing comes as a surprise? I guess I should have known this, but I didn’t. Did you?

This doesn’t really apply to me so much since I don’t dig treadmills, but if you use it as a major part of your race training, you might want to think about it. Then again, you probably already knew this.

Sometimes the things I don’t know I find out most people knew a long time ago. Like the fact that the word “asterisk” does not have an “x” in it and that jackalopes are not real.

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTT?

Yes, three years ago on a trip to Jackson Hole (I said “hole”) we were in a gift shop and there were a plethora of fake/stuffed jackalopes around. I made some comment to Ken about having never seen one in the wild, and he was like, “Don’t f*ck with me. You are kidding me right? You don’t think they really exist do you? Maybe you should start a leprechaun support group.” Uhh, yeah, sure I was just kidding.

There is no way this little guy is fake

Back to the treadmill.   Did I tell you I once saw a jackalope doing a 49% incline on the treadmill? True story.

Do you always run with an incline on the ‘mill to simulate outdoor running?

What’s something you just learned that everyone else already knows?

Weirdest spot you’ve ever crapped?

SUAR

Don’t forget my Champion clothing giveaway. Ends Friday.

RIP Eugene

So, I got out of the pool yesterday after drinking my share of pee water and started coughing. Thought it was the chlorine (or the piss or the hairballs or the e-coli), but as the day progressed so did my cough. Last night Sam asked what the heck was wrong with my voice. I told him I had taken up smoking copious amounts of pot. And cigarettes. It helps with my training. And, my glaucoma.

I’m not sick SICK, so when my alarm went off today at 5am for my riding group it never occurred to me to not go. I mean, training under adverse conditions is what it’s all about, right? Makes us stronger or something like that?

There is actually a pro triathlete (well, he won the Ironman World Championship in 2010), Chris McCormack, who, in an effort to learn how to deal with GI distress during race, eats nachos with super spicy hot sauce before long runs. Yes, the dude deliberately instigates cramps and farts and the need to evacuate. In his own words (I find this fascinating!):

“I always had this problem of my stomach shutting down during the marathon of an Ironman. So I thought if I could run with my stomach shutting down, I could do it in a race. So once a week I would sit down and eat nachos with really spicy hot sauce. Then I’d get my running gear on, go for a run and of course, my stomach would shut down, but I’d just keep going.”

I don't see any shit in this picture.

“They were brutal training runs. But then on race day, when my stomach would shut down I’d think, “I can deal with this.” I’d be able to keep going. Doing this paid off so many times over. I’d do this 10 weeks out from Ironman until two weeks before race day. It’d be a horrible run, but it had a huge impact on my overall race performance.”

He is hard core. But, what he doesn’t tell us is about shitting on the side of the road, what TP he used, etc. (Thanks, Jason, for putting this on your blog).

I, on the other hand, do not need to eat nachos before a run because my body already knows how to cramp and shit itself without any hand holding.  It is a built in training strategy. I could win an Ironman.

Anyway, the ride was amazingly beautiful, but I have to admit I felt like dog crap. Probably smelled like it too. I think it’s funny when you start getting sick. At first you say, “Oh, it’s probably allergies” or “Oh, I have something in my throat.” You deny the sickness for as long as possible. But then there comes a point of acceptance.  I can’t deny any more that I’ve got some respiratory crap.

But, when you're with a group, there is no wussing out or turning back early, so I sucked it up. Shut up and do not be a pussy.

We headed towards the foothills, then up Lefthand Canyon.

As we passed the spot where Eugene Howrey, age 73, was killed on his bike on Friday, I took a moment to think of him and to send healing thoughts to his family. Here’s a guy well into his 70s just trying to stay healthy and to live an active life. To make matters worse, come to find out that the trucker who hit him was charged with reckless driving two years ago for nudging a cyclist into oncoming traffic. I know he didn’t do it on purpose, but he probably was being more aggressive or less cautious than he needed to be. 

Anyway, 1,400 feet of climbing (from about 5,000 feet to 6,400 feet) in the first 14 miles kind of kicked my ass. But it was downhill the whole way back, so I lived. I can’t tell you how much I love this group. Not just because the women are strong and amazing, but because it pushes me to whole new levels.

I call this the “tit” ride. Thanks for pointing that out Matty!

But, now it’s time to take a load off.

Are you in denial when you get sick? Do you still train? I deny it for awhile. If there is no fever, I can breathe okay and I don’t feel too run down, I still train. But, maybe a bit lighter than I would otherwise.

Ever purposefully eat crap before running just to see what happens? No, I don’t. I once, by mistake and before I was really a runner, ate beef stroganoff for lunch before a run. I think I threw up.

Are you an early morning workout-er? I love getting up and getting it done. Plus, morning is my favorite time of day. So full of possibility.

SUAR

Photo Op

Some people will do anything to win a giveaway. And I LOVE it. Here are some pictures sent in by readers when I asked to give my your best swim pose as extra entries for this giveaway:

Run Dash, who hopes this doesn’t constitute animal cruelty, sent in this beauty. The only thing cruel about that picture is the damn float belt. Hate that thing. But, it paved my road to Boston so I’ll shut up.

This is Bernadette who shares her story of triumphing over obesity. Read it HERE.

Allegra sent this one because “Shut Up and Run told her to.” If you don’t know what she’s referring to, you have to watch this animated video I made because I am more proud of this than my grad school diploma. And you didn’t think I was smartt. I guess she farted. Something obviously smells.

And lastly I give you ultra runner girl who says she is doing the carpet breast stroke. I call it the carpet humping stroke, but that’s just me.

And since we’re sharing pictures, why stop now?

I love that Chris sent me this picture today because it made him think of me. He called it, “The Stuff of Runner’s Dreams”:

I can see why it made him think of me. Last year I had an emergency while running on a busy road and had to leave a gift in a tree. Yes, that is my fuel belt I left outside to avoid contamination. You can read the full story HERE.

I really wish my tree had looked more like Chris’ tree, but you can’t have it all.

Still time to enter the H2O Audio Giveaway. Click HERE.

Off for six miles. I may be in multi-sport training, but my heart still belongs to the the run. Always will.

SUAR

Run Rating Scale

Thanks for all the congrats on my paragraph in Runner’s World. I forgot to mention that they asked me to be on the cover, but I told them I’d rather be on page 126, hidden two pages before the end of the magazine. Plus, I felt bad for Kara and how little press she gets.

I ran 13 miles yesterday. Longest run yet post injury. The hip felt great, but again I was plagued by the turd tragedies. At one point I was doubled over on the path while my running companions just watched, offering gifts of toilet paper and pats on the back and asking if perhaps they should call the EMTs. They probably had poop envy ( when a person is constipated and suddenly becomes aware of the surrounding people's ability to go to the toilet whilst they suffer an uncomfortable and painful fate – urban dictionary).

There was one girl I had never run with before. I am sure I made a great impression. Post- run, she probably went home and told her husband, “The strangest thing happened today. I ran with this girl who kept having to hide in the bushes. Then at one point she rolled up into a ball and laid on the path. I think she is part bear cub or something.”

Once again I only have myself to blame. Really, should have turned down that piece of cheesecake last night. And having the period doesn’t help (sorry to my five male readers), although I cannot help that part. If I didn’t have my period I would be either: 1) pregnant 2) too skinny 3) too young 4) or older than I am now. I don’t like any of these options, so I’ll take the period.  Does your stomach get upset when you’re on the rag or is it just me? Chris K., does it?

Overall, it ended up being a three-crap run. I rate my runs not be stars or smiley faces, but by piles. 

 

 

If the Boston rating is this, I am in serious trouble:

 

 

You may be sick of hearing about my great comeback story from hip stress fracture to marathon runner. All in six months. I am even sick of hearing myself think, talk and write about it. But, it is happening and I cannot believe Pixar or someone hasn’t contacted me to make a movie. I could be played by Teddy from Grey’s Anatomy. Clearly, it is just a matter of time before someone buys my story because I am the only person to have ever come back from an injury to run a marathon. No, I don’t know who Matt Long is.

But, let’s face it, my comeback is almost over and will hopefully culminate in two weeks when I run the Boston Marathon. So, you only have two more weeks of my recovery and rehab. Stick with me to the finish because you know you want to know if someone can run a marathon with very little running as part of their training. It is a good experiment and will lend itself to the creation of many new training plans:

Minimal Miles to Marathon Plan!

Shut Up and Walk, Water Run and Bike Your Way to 26.2!

Run Not at All, Run Boston!

SUAR

Believe It Or Not…

Ten miles – CHECK! I’m officially in the double digits. My body does not feel 100%, but it seems to be withstanding the increased mileage okay. Not perfect, but okay. If you are new to the party, I had a hip stress fracture back in October and am now back to running, sort of. I am planning on running the Boston Marathon in April.

I know this blog is called, “Shut Up and Run,” but there are actually few times I need to tell myself that. I have many problems and challenges, but self discipline is not one of them. This morning, however, I had to scream it in the mirror. It was just one of  those days. Not all runs are equal and sometimes we start out on the wrong foot. But, we continue anyway.

Up at 5:45 a.m, I was trying to get in my long run before I had to head to Sam’s baseball tournament started at 8:30am. It was all a go. I had mapped out a run, laid out the required gear and got a good night’s sleep.

Bad thing was when I got up I could hear the wind howling outside. I muttered the eff word under my breath. I was headed to the Boulder Reservoir and I knew if it was windy at my house it would be Wizard of Oz style windy at the Rez (that’s what the cool people call it). I briefly considered a ten mile treadmill run, but not having the mental fortitude of Janae or EMZ, I kept with my plan.

I arrived at my start point and it was still pitch black outside. For some reason I thought the sun rose at 6:30 a.m., but it’s more like 7:00 a.m. I never run alone in the dark. There was a full moon casting some light on my skinny ass, so that made it okay. Okay, don’t get on my case for running in the dark. I know it is stupid and attackers, wild animals and potholes are waiting around every turn. This was a one time thing and only for 20 minutes. And it wasn’t as pitch black as it seems in this picture. Really it wasn’t.

I wasn’t ten feet from my car when I took advantage of the darkness and squatted in the trees. Crap. Yes, already. And I hadn’t even started.

The first five miles I made three, yes three, more pit stops along the trail. The wind was deafening and humbling. I trudged on, not worried about my pace. More concerned with my stomach.

I’d like to act all naïve as to why my insides were revolting, but we spent Saturday evening at a tap table at Rock Bottom Brewery, so you have your answer. I only had two beers, but I never have good luck with beer the night before long runs. Or really beer anytime. It makes me gassy and moves things through too quickly. By the way…a tap table is this incredible thing. You have five beer taps at your table and pour yourself beer as you please. The bar keeps tabs and you pay at the end. Convenient. Dangerous. Heavenly. It is kind of like this, although this is not our actual table:

The sun started to come up and my spirits rose a bit. I was still heading directly west and into the wind, but I kept telling myself the turn around was soon.

 

I encountered a little farm. Yes, I was the only one around for miles. This is advantageous when you have to poop a lot.

I hit mile six and was thrilled to see this, my best friend:

By mile seven the wind had died down and so had my stomach. I cautiously managed to choke down a gel. I saw another runner and she told me I had blood all over my teeth. WTF? Lips chapped from the wind. Another bonus of this run.

I put in my iPod for the last two miles and reached around to pat myself on the back. This was my highest mileage run since September, pre-inury. I did it in wind and darkness and with the shits and bloody teeth. I always think that the most challenging runs we have are the ones that mentally prepare us the best for race day.

Post run, still trying to hold it in:

If it is windy in Boston on April 18 I will hurt someone. Note to self: no beer the night of April 17. Just tequila shots (kidding).

What was your long run this weekend? Any stomach problems?

Ever sat at a tap table?

Time for a nap,

SUAR

PS: Congrats to McRunner who ran a 2:36:54 marathon in LA today. Average pace = 5:56. A PR for him! Regardless of what you think of his 30 experiment, the dude pulled out a killer marathon!

Oh-So Strange

I got an email the other day from a new reader, David. He found my blog through a link on Gary Cohen’s website (writer, interviewer, runner, coach). He said,

“Your site was not quite what I expected and at first seemed oh-so strange, especially that pic of you posing in the swim-gear! But, I kept poking around and reading more and finally came to the conclusion you are quite an interesting person and that the stories are quite humorous and even enlightening at times. Seems like you would be a "fun" person to know, and probably a blast to run and train with!   Not sure if this SUAR site is a "chic" or "running mom" thing or what, but I am a a 57-year old marathoning guy, not your average male runner as such, but with long, pony-tailed hair, more like left-overs from the late 60's. In fact, I posted a pic of myself on Facebook hauling-ass down the last stretch of Oak-Brook Half Marathon and someone posted a comment, "Looks like Willie Nelson running away from the IRS!"

This is what occurred to me:

If you are visiting my blog for the first time, I can only imagine what you must think. Pussy posse. Me wearing white undies in a bathing suit. Recipes for shart brownies and erections (no, not recipes for erections, but just talk of them). Peeing standing up.  It’s a wonder new readers don’t start hauling ass in the opposite direction. Maybe they are drawn in much like one gets sucked into watching a car accident or the Real Housewives.

I am thrilled, honored that a 57 year old pony-tailed runner from Chicago would find something he liked here at SUAR. If you’ve been reading for a while you know for sure that SUAR is NOT a chic or running mom site. Yes, I’m very chic (see picture in right hand corner of blog) and I am a mom who runs, but I don’t speak of play dates or changing diapers (not that there’s anything wrong with that).

Here’s my bottom line:

• I love to run, but I will do other things if I have to
• I’m determined and stubborn
• I believe that confidence is everything
• I know that laughing at yourself is the best medicine
• I’m sure most people aren’t living up to their potential. I’m just getting started.

So, if you’re new here and feeling uneasy, I don’t blame you. But, try sticking around and see what happens. You too may be craping in trees, overflowing toilets, falling off treadmills and eating shart brownies for breakfast before too long. It’s what all the cool kids do.

Am I really that weird? You’re laughing with me, not at me, right?

Going to buy some Willie Nelson from iTunes,

SUAR

PS: Bought my Boston plane tickets. Happy?

The Six Minute Dump

Tuesday night was the almighty marathon run on the Biggest Loser.

Even if you don't watch the show, you can appreciate this episode. People who were morbidly obese only three months ago train for and run a  marathon. Although they’ve been working out hard for three months, they really only train for the marathon for about 15 minutes.

This is by far my favorite episode of the season. Anything with the word “marathon” in it gets my juices flowing.

Little House on the Prairie marathon on TV on Sunday? I’m in.

Marathon candy bar (chocolate and caramel goodness). I’m all over it.

Running a marathon, talking about running a marathon, watching other people run marathons, reading about marathons, dreaming about marathons – I’m there. All the time.

That is why last night I jumped up exclaiming, “It’s the marathon show! I love the marathon! I love everything about the marathon! I just love marathons! I love marathons!!” My family responded, “Uh, yeah, mom we know you do. Give it a rest. Go find a pool or something.”

This marathon episode started much like the others:

Contestants: “I couldn’t even walk to the refrigerator a couple of months ago and now I’m running a freaking marathon.”

Constantans: I just don’t know if I’ll be able to do it. I mean 26.2 miles. It’s a long way to go.

Jillian: This is going to kick their asses, but they’ll do it because I’ll sit on their heads (faces?) if they don’t.

Bob: Let’s get this marathon going all up in here.

Allison: Blah blah blah…weigh in…blah blah blah…yellow line…blah blah blah.

There was, however, one drastic difference in this season’s marathon. Someone took a dump. It was the nice Asian girl, Ada, who we are all rooting for because her parents never said they were proud of her and they think she is responsible for her brother’s death and we all know she’s not, but she blames herself and so desperately wants her parent’s approval.

So, here’s Ada, hammering it out on the marathon course. Just blazing along. Bob joins her for a spell and that’s about the time she tells him she has to go to the bathroom.

Bob: “Well, real marathoners just pee their pants.”

Ada: “It’s not pee I’m talking about.”

Oh, snap Ada! You are my people!

That’s when she makes the decision to hijack the migrant farmer’s porto. She goes in and lays one down. And it takes her…

Six minutes.

Six freaking minutes!! She added six minutes to her marathon finish time with a crap. Gun time = 4:38. Gun time minus poop time = 4:32.  I’m not sure if her parents would approve of that.

Here’s the thing. If I have to take a crap while running, it’s at the door, screaming. I can barely make it to the porto or bushes. It’s not the kind of thing where you leave the course, grab the newspaper and settle in for awhile. I don’t know what Ada was doing in there. Carefully wiping? She needs to learn skid marks are just par for the course.

Yes, she still kicked ass, finished first, and beat the best time so far on all episodes of the show. Even taking time out for a leisurely dump.

Ada’s got my vote,

SUAR

PS: Don’t forget my ultimate giveaway

PPS: Seriously?? Please, someone get me to 1,000 followers before I pull “an Ada.”

Surviving the Long Run

It’s Friday. Almost 5 o’clock. I won’t make some comment about it being 5 o’clock somewhere because I’m sick of hearing that. For me, it doesn't have to be 5 o’clock anywhere. If I want to drink that badly, I consume regardless if it’s 5 o’clock in Taiwan or not (that would be 5 a.m. Denver time, but perhaps I like to pour beer on my Cap’n Crunch. Don’t judge).  Wow, that made me sound like a drunk. I’m just bragging. I’m 110 lbs. of can’t-hold-my-liquor over here.

As soon as I am finished driving kids around, I will pop a cold one. It’s happy hour. Again! (Housemartins, circa 1986).

Here I sit like I do every week on the eve of my long run asking myself, “Where in the hell will I go this time?” (The fact is I’ve run the routes around here a bazillion times and it’s getting tough to be creative. I’m about ready to just run down the highway for a change. Me and the truckers could bond or talk about strip clubs at the very least).  “IPod or no iPod?” “Bring fuel or hide it in the bushes?” (Note to self: pick different bush to crap in). “What is the weather going to be at 7 a.m.?”  

Doing these long runs week after week takes mental fortitude. Here are some SUAR tips for getting through long solo runs.

1. Think about the reward. I like incentives. On my run with Dean (name dropping) I  talked about imbibing in beer and baklava at the end. Oh yea, porta potty. Get ready. This was around mile 7 of 21 miles. He politely informed me that we couldn’t talk about B & B until we were through the last checkpoint and only had 3 miles to go. That’s crap. I need that B & B incentive the whole way. My reward? Usually a big coffee and fatty pastry.
2. Do the Walkie Talkie. I learned about this from Runner’s World. The walkie talkie is when you fart every time your foot strikes the ground. This can be great fun and a nice distraction whether you are alone or in a group.
3. Keep eyes off of the Garmin. I try to glance sparingly at the Garmin. Typically I only look at it when it beeps at a mile mark so I can gauge pace. Anymore than this and things seem to drag. Have a rule about how often: every song, every mile, at half way etc.
4. Change up the numbers. Instead of saying, “Shit I have to run 18 miles! I’ll never make it!”  I tell myself I have to run six miles three times. It just sounds better. However, I wouldn’t advise telling yourself to do one mile 18 times or two miles 9 times. Ugh.
5. Bring your phone. Yeah, yeah, for safety and all that, but I also bring it as a lifeline. I’ve never had to call for a mid-run pick up or therapy session, but I reserve the right to do so. I like to know that if I get sick or cold or depressed I’m not out there all by myself.
6. Have something in your back pocket. I like to have a plan for when I get sick of running, am tired, am bored, am achy. What will I tell myself? How will I keep going? Visualizations and imagery work well too. Getting in the habit of relying on yourself for mental pick-me-ups is a good trick for race day as well.
7. Do the half and half. I like to break up my long runs by taking the first half in peace and quiet. No music. Just my breathing and my feet on the pavement/trail. At the half way mark, I put in some music and it becomes a different run entirely.
8. Talk to yourself. I love this tactic. I don’t do it continuously, that takes too much energy and would make me look insane. But sometimes I give myself a little verbal nudge: “Okay you can do this.” “F*ck this.” “One more mile and you can have a GU.” “Damn, I have to take a dump.”
9. Change It Up. Every once in awhile I change up my form for a few minutes. I try a different foot strike or concentrate on pulling back my shoulders. I might move my arms more/less or unclench my fists. The point is to mix it up and let your body move differently for a few minutes. I also try varying my pace every now and then. Speeding up until the next stop sign. Slowing down for a half a mile.
10. Visualize running the race. Usually at some point in the long run I’ll get super inspired for like five minutes. This usually happens after the half way mark when I know I’m closer to finishing than starting. I imagine myself running the marathon. I am strong and capable and well trained. This never fails to give me a boost.
    
    And the bonus survival tip:
    
    
11. Bring toilet paper. It keeps you fresh. I wouldn’t advise packing it out, though.

What’s your best long run tip???

Magnolia Road Run – She’s a Bitch

I admit it. I’ve been getting  a bit psyched out about my run with Dean K. It’s two weeks from today. Here’s what’s causing the nerves:

1. I’ve never done a trail race
2. I’ve never done 20.4 miles on trails, racing or otherwise
3. I’ve never climbed 2,721 feet on trails running from 8,000 feet to 9,400 feet. I can hardly breathe just typing it. Would it be wrong to run with on oxygen tank?
4. I’ve never run/pooped alongside a celebrity runner
5. I’ve never done 1-4 above all at the same time

You’d be nervous too.

Dean and I shared emails yesterday. I do love to say that. I told him I might cry if it gets too hard. He told me crying is good because it adds to the drama. At least I am being up front and he can’t say I didn’t warn him.

My interview with the big man is by phone on Tuesday. Thanks so much for your interview question ideas. They were a great help. I’ve compiled a list of some good ones, so stay tuned later this week to be the first to read the interview Q & A!

In preparation for the upcoming race, I told you I wanted to run the famed Magnolia Road west of Boulder. Ken and I did it today. This run has quite a reputation. She’s hard. She’s tough. She’s not for the faint of heart. She takes you up into the clouds. She chews you up and spits you out. This is what the bitch looks like on my Garmin (spoiler: yes, I did make it):

  I stole this from someone:

The alarm went off way too early at 5:45 a.m. I lay awake in those pre-dawn moments when you snuggle down into your sheets, face planted against the drool-drenched-mattress, knowing that you are way too tired to even think about getting out of bed let alone running 15 miles.

Ignoring each other because that’s what we do in the early morning, Ken and I filled up water bottles and my bladder with Accelerade and water. I grabbed a cup of steaming coffee for the 45 minute drive to the start and tried to choke down a piece of cinnamon raisin bread (whopping 32 carbs per slice!).

I loaded up my new hydration pack with the bladder and two 20 oz bottles of liquid. I had two GUs and my camera. Oh, and some Wet Ones should I need them during a roadside squat.

We got to the start at 8,100 feet by 7:00 a.m. The road had just changed from paved to dirt, which was fine with me. 50 degrees. Perfect.

Here’s where I look like I’m doing a l’il Irish jig:

   

By mile one, I knew the pack was not going to work for me. It just didn’t fit right and kept swinging dramatically from side to side with each step I took. Since I would be taking about 30,000 steps that might be an issue. I had the straps as tight as they would go. Don’t get me wrong. I think the pack itself is comfortable, light weight and practical. I just think it’s too big for puny self. I will say that once I removed the bottles, I still had some jostling of the bladder, but it felt much better and served me well during the run.

Since I follow everything that is told to me on the internet, I had cleaned out the bladder with Polident denture cleaner. Spearmint. Probably not the best move, but my water was minty fresh for the run and so was my breath.

As we headed up the first huge hill, we hit mile one huffing and puffing like we had just finished 15 freaking miles. Only 14 more to go. I hid the water bottles knowing they were causing the pack to move so drastically. I would have to survive on the 1 liter of liquid in the bladder. It’s kind of neat how I would transfer from the bladder in the pack to my bladder. Anyone else find that fascinating?

The hills seemed endless. Just as  you’d crest one and have a bit of a downhill respite, you’d be greeted by another incline shouting, “Oh, yeah? Try this one, you pussy!” At about the two mile point a herd of runners flew by us going the opposite direction. Damn University of Colorado cross country team. I know they love this run, as it was made famous by the CU x-country team in the book “Running with the Buffaloes.” Humbling to say the least watching these guys fly by, effortless.

Here come some of those damn buffaloes. They need to slow the eff down:

 

We trudged on and up.

At mile seven, we hit the Peak to Peak Highway, crossed over and ran another half mile on a rocky dirt road. At the turn around, we had our GUs, stretched and headed back. We both felt pretty strong at this point.

If I haven’t said so already, this road afforded amazing views of the foothills and the Rockies. Wildflowers grew everywhere. Occasionally the route would open up to a high altitude pasture with grazing cows and horses. The air in Colorado is so crisp, cool and bright with no humidity, especially up that high. Kind of like Florida. Or Texas.

Here is where we crossed over the Peak to Peak Highway:

   

Ken runs by a pasture:

 

And up a hill:

Told ya’ it was pretty (not me, the scenery dummy):

I did not have to stop to crap on this run. Miracles never cease to happen. So I did a fake out for you. If only I could poop with shorts on. Well, I can but it’s not pretty.

Here’s where I tell you about my studly husband. He has run several half marathons this year, and is training for another in October. He has never run more than 13.1 miles at a time. Today, he ran the whole flippin’ 15 miles with me. He wants you to know he has his first blister on his tender toe. Ever. Cue the violins. I smell a marathon in his future even if he doesn’t.

Nearing the end, some dude passed us on the last gargantuan hill leading to the car. I picked up the pace and kept a steady 20 feet behind him. He was letting out the most ungodly sounds – like he was either yakking or dumping or both. But, I think it was just an “I’m going up a big hill and I’m tired” GRUNT like none I’d ever heard. Think I’ll try that one with Dean.

Overall Stats:

15 miles
2 hours, 28 minutes
1,650 feet elevation gain
1,650 feet elevation loss
9:44 average pace (okay speedies, you try to run this bitch fast)

I do feel pretty good after the run with the exception of an aching ass. I’m glad we took it kind of slow.

Don’t forget my giveaway! Ends Friday.

I Need Your Help

Long run yesterday: 16 miles  
Time: 2:25
Average pace: 8:58
Liquid consumed (water/HEED): 45 oz
Nutrition: 1 Strawberry Cliff Shot at mile 6
Temperature at 7:00 a.m. start: 66*
Temperature at finish: 80*
Bathrooms stops: 2 along the dirt road in the weeds
Elevation gain/loss: 735 ft/735 ft.

When Ken and I set out (he ran the first half with me), I could already tell it was going to be a muggy scorching kind of run. This route is gorgeous with lots of back country roads and mountain views, but there is little shade and a plethora of hills (you like that fancy word?).

Highlights:

Mile 1: I stopped to stretch and crap. Oh no. Already? I swear I went before I left home. Ken stood guard, rolling his eyes thinking, “How could I have married this?”

Mile 4: I left another gift alongside the road.

Mile 8: Kissed Ken goodbye (no tongue). Headed back. Put in iPod to take my mind off of the heat and effort

Mile 10: iPod dies. It’s just me and my breathing.

Mile 14: Run out of water/HEED

Mile 15: Super energetic, talkative and shirtless runner probably on mile 2 of his run comes up from behind. “Hot enough for you? How you doing? Blah, blah, blah.”

How the hell do you think I’m doing? I’m on mile freaking 15 of this 16 mile jaunt, I’m dehydrated, my legs are screaming, and oh, hey, we just passed the crap I took this morning!”

Me at the end of it all, not feeling so swell. Yes I have my running tank rolled up because this is the new fashion statement. You should try it:

And now I need your help.

I broke my exciting news last week – that I would be running part of the TransRockies Run with Dean Karnazes, Ultramarathon Man extraordinaire, as my partner. Stage One. 20.4 miles. 2,721 feet of elevation gain. 2,398 feet of elevation loss. I can hear my knees groaning already. But NO I am not complaining. Chance of a lifetime over here.

Check points are every 7 miles, so I guess there will be about three water/food stops on the trail over the course of the 20 miles.

I’m wondering about hydration between check points. Usually I run with 40 oz of hydration in my Nathan fuel belt.

I talked to Outside PR and they sent me this nifty Go Lite Slipstream hydration pack:

I have never used one of these. Apparently it needs a bladder to go inside of it. I couldn’t get in for a bladderectomy on short notice (all the ORs were full), so I’m going to have to buy one.

Like anything out there, there are 20 million options. All I know is I want 2 liters (70 oz). Any of you run with hydration packs? I know you all run with bladders and colons.

Any advice on which bladder to order?

Also, if you were me, what hydration system would you use for the race?

Option One: fuel belt, refuel at check point

Option Two: hydration pack, refill as needed

I know from reading his books that Dean prefers the pack. But, I am my own woman, so I cannot be influenced. Except by you all. So give me your input!

PS: My $100 CSN giveaway ends tomorrow. What are you waiting for? A personal invitation?

Fine Print: Go-Lite and Outside PR sent me this hydration pack free of charge.

Bambi Spies On Me and Giveaway Winners

Excuse me while I am distracted. Concentrating these days is difficult. I have visions of trail races, an ultra marathon man, a 2,700 ft. elevation gain over 20 miles, running at 9,000 feet of altitude and hoping I don’t crap myself, and falling down mountains because I am not a trail runner and I am clumsy.

If you have no clue what I’m talking about, click HERE. Just know that by this time next month, Dean Karnazes and I will be like this:

Not intertwined, per se, but just tight, bonded. BFFs. If only.

I mean, seriously. 

Since Thursday I have felt an urgency to start running up mountains. Must be something about knowing I will need to do this in 28 days along side of the trail running star of the universe.

Today Ken and I went out for a trail run west of Boulder. 10 miles. 1,300 ft. elevation gain (in the first 5 miles nonetheless!). Hard as shit. And shit I did, because I usually do when I exert myself. A friend lent me some TP on the trail. A few deer watched as I tried to clean myself up. What must they have been thinking? She is tarnishing our vista. Bambi, do not let her be an example to you.  Hopefully one day I’ll remember to bring my own paper. Really, I should just carry a toilet. They have those portable ones these days you know. I’m sure I could make a backpack to fit it.

My next climbing endeavor will be the famed Magnolia Road. Ever read “Running With the Buffaloes” about the University of Colorado cross country team? This is where they trained. The road/trail starts at 8,200 feet and climbs 7.5 miles (1,800 ft.) to the gorgeous Peak to Peak Highway.

Then you run down. So, 15 miles total of altitude and hill training. Who’s in?

Today, while reading up on how to get to the start point, I found this comment about the run:

“I live along Magnolia Road. The views are pretty darn nice and you have a good chance of seeing elk herds this time of year. Please take a dump in town before you come up to go for a run.”

 

I love runners! This person was obviously speaking directly.to.me.

By the way, winners of the Champion shirts are (per Random.org):

Female - #19 – Katie from Run This Amazing Day. Her sportsmanlike principle was, “respect for others, no matter where they are in their journey!”

Male - #56 – Kovas Palubinskas from Midwest MultiSport Life . His principle was, “play fair and clean and get everyone involved.”

And even though he didn’t win, I have to give kudos to Fitmacdaddy who made me laugh when he commented, “Poor sportsmanship: I was once farted on by a chick in a cheetah skirt. Smelled like apple cinnamon.”  I do believe he was referring to me…

Send your addresses, shirt size and color preference to brisdon@comcast.net. And congrats!

Giveaway Winner & Vacation Memories

The winner of the Scape Sunblock giveaway was #121 Patti L! Congrats, Patti. Email me at brisdon@comcast.net with your address and I’ll send it right out to you!

Now onto the good stuff. I am so glad to be out of the traveling turd RV. Don’t get me wrong. I love my family. But, I could have been in that RV with Jesus and would have gotten sick of him. If my children are close enough to me at night that I can throw a shoe and hit them, it’s too tight of quarters.

25 feet gets really small really fast 

We did make lots of memories, however.

Number of times I walked across this suspension bridge at the Royal Gorge: 1

 

Number of times I looked down between the slats at the river 1,200 ft. below wondering if that day was the day the bridge would finally collapse: 49

Number of times Ken ran into a tree and took off the passenger side mirror: 1

Number of dollars to fix the mirror: $600

Number of times I crapped in the RV: 3

Number of times we emptied the sewage and felt the warm contents moving through the hose (at least I have my Life is Good shirt on. Oh, the irony): 4

Number of miles I ran: 12

Number of mountain passes I drove over in the traveling turd (guardrails optional): 3

Number of times I threatened to put my nine year old in a time out in a camping chair with no food or water or books: 1

Number of times I actually did it: 0

Number of bottles of wine I drank: 2

Number of times I counted my blessings: 5,234

Some of my clearest and most fond memories growing up involve family vacations. My parents loved to rough it. Once we did a cross country road trip from Maryland to Montana for a month and slept in a tent the whole way. That was the trip my sleeping bag caught on fire with me in it. 

I have found that the best memories are not made when everything is perfect. They are created when things don’t go quite right, when there is some challenge involved, when we move outside of our comfort zone. Our senses hold on to those experiences with an intensity that lasts throughout the decades.

Two weeks ago a friend’s mom found out she had cancer. She died this morning. I am reminded about the brevity and preciousness of life. I am reminded to hold on and to make it a wild and memorable ride. I am reminded to never let fear stop me from doing anything. And mostly I am reminded to love.

What’s your favorite/funniest childhood vacation memory?