Running While Injured

This year I've had a bit of experience with Running While Injured. It is TOTAL bullshit and I'm sorry if it's happened to you. Here's what I've learned from personal experience and the internets. Obviously, I am not a doctor.

Rule #1: DO NOT TRY TO DO TOO MUCH TOO SOON.

That's it for rules. Here are my recovery strategies:

Runner's Knee

• Stretch and ice knees after every workout.
• Use a foam roller on calves and thighs daily. For me, the jury is out on whether rolling my IT bands helps or hurts. I use the half-sized one, since I am constitutionally unable to spend $40 on foam.
• Patellar straps placed just under the knee during runs can help. I pretty much never leave home without one since blowing out my knees this summer.
• Take NSAIDs such as Ibuprofen. Do not rely on these for a race, though. Doing so can wreak major havoc during a marathon.
• Ease back on mileage until acute phase has passed and then increase with care. I have learned to recognize the warning signs - discomfort is generally ok, but pain of any kind is not. This is a hard one for runners, who force themselves to run through some dark shit.
• Athletic tape such as KT can get you through a race but I tend to sweat it off anyway.
• I have been taking fish oil and multivitamins. Also a Glucosamine supplement, which has been medically shown to do absolutely nothing. If you want to take it, don't overdo it. There can be side effects.

Plantar Faciitis

• Recognize the symptoms and begin treating aggressively. I work on my feet and half my coworkers have Plantar Faciitis horror stories.
• Break from running immediately for the first week. 
• Continue to do other cardio and strength training, such as weights, cycling and foot strengthening exercises.
• Rest and hydrate.
• Stretch your feet and calves regularly - tight calves contribute to the problem.
• Ice arch and plantar facia multiple times a day.
• Roll arch and pf on a tennis or golf ball
• Do not go barefoot, EVER. Keep shoes next to your bed.
• Put drugstore PF supports in your work and regular shoes. Orthotics aren't necessary right away. I do not put these in my running shoes.
• Ease back into running slowly after the initial rest period
• If none of these work, see a doctor. Plantar faciitis can take you down for weeks or months.

See you out there (I hope).

The San Francisco Marathon 2014

This year's San Francisco marathon was a big learning experience for me. Going into it, I honestly didn't expect to finish. I was undertrained by about 40 miles (buying a house had cut into some of my shorter runs) and felt I had peaked in my training way too early. To top it all off, I blew out both knees on my last 20 miler, mostly due to quads weakened from moving our shit up and down three flights of stairs the prior weekend.

Nevertheless, we had a four day weekend and a trip to Big Sur planned, so skipping the trip was not an option.
Dr B had offered a while ago to come to San Francisco with me for this one, and I'm so glad he did. Having him there to support me before, during and after the race made a huge difference.

By the time we reached the expo, I was KT taped to the hilt and wearing two knee braces. I picked up my swag with humility, fully expecting to DNF. The expo itself was fine, in Fort Mason and well enough organized. I'm not a huge fan of expos generally, but I wanted to get the most out of the experience just in case I managed to finish.



Back at the San Remo hostel, we went to bed pretty early on stomachs full of pasta from Fior d'Italia downstairs. I'd gone for simple penne with fresh tomato and shallot. No funny business. I know better than to mess with my stomach the night before a long run. Mostly.

Race Day:
At 4 am we got up, I ate my bagel with peanut butter and banana and took a naproxen. I had been hitting the naproxen consistently for about a week before race to reduce inflammation in my knees, as well as icing, stretching and foam rolling. I felt no actual pain, which made me hopeful as we walked in the dark through North Beach towards the Ferry Building. As we neared the area, hundreds of runners were streaming in from all directions. I began to get a lump in my throat. It was freaking awesome. The Bay Bridge was twinkling and the air was warm.

The start line was chaotic. 25,000 people can't all leave the start line at the same time, and it took me about 10 or 15 minutes to find/walk all the way to where wave 5 was waiting. We had just enough time to watch the elites take off before I had to get in my corral. Dr B walked along the fence next to me as we progressed. I silently repeated my mantras: "walk the hills." "stop before the pain." "slow and steady finishes the race." It was hugely difficult to go from aiming for a marathon PR to just hoping to finish, but I knew that this too was part of being a disciplined runner. I also bet on being able to tell the moment right before I blew out my knees again, and planned to ease off every time I felt it approaching that threshold. Well, our wave left at 6:02 and it was maybe 6:22 that I began to worry. I was running a very "safe" 10-11 minute mile and hardly even sweating along the Wharf, with quick breaks to stretch my quads. In the mostly flat Portland marathon, I saw hardly anyone stopping to stretch, but in SF, the road's shoulders were crowded with neon-clad runners bending a leg up behind them like dorky flamingos.


Until the climb to the bridge, I was too busy listening to my body to listen to my podcast. I run in headphones, but always low enough to hear traffic and voices around me. I can't remember most of what I listened to that day, except a couple of particularly well-times songs (for example, The Cult's "Sanctuary" while running down Haight) but I remember every mile the intensity of discomfort or pain in my knees. As my little pack approached the misty bridge, I had a few minutes of normal running in an epic setting. I passed the hugely inspirational and positive ultrarunner Ginger Runner going the other way and yelled out "Go Ginger!" and he yelled back "woo hoo!" That kind of perked me up a bit, and I continued the long and beautiful out-and-back on the bridge.

In Marin, the line for the port a potties was again ridiculously long (what are you people doing in there for so long?!) so I took a moment to stretch. I felt okay but was still not sure how I would feel by the time I reached my husband in Golden Gate Park, who had taken a spectator bus to the halfway point and had been texting with me every mile or so. When I was climbing through the Presidio, I found out he was at mile 18 and seeing "a lot of busted runners." With dismay, I told him "I might not make it to 18." Looking back, I almost think it is harder to run slower than usual than  to run faster than you normally do - I felt intense pressure to keep up with other runners. That is the absolute wrongest move to make in marathon running at my level, for many reasons, number one being that you NEVER KNOW what someone has gone through to get to that point. That fat chick in the tutu might be one of the toughest motherfuckers out there, and the guy who fell to his knees and appeared to be thanking the heavens for his mid-pack half marathon finish could've just defeated cancer or who knows what else. We don't all wear our excuses on our shirts ("busted knees"), and that's why it doesn't matter what anyone else around you is doing and the only one judging you that matters is you. I was able to tell myself this walking down some steep downhills to the park, but really mostly kept myself going from pride. I was a hot mess when I reached him and he walked along side me a bit and I updated him. I was fine from the waist up and barely sweating: the rest was just bad. I always laugh at people on shows like Survivor who break down in tears at the sight of their loved ones after 25 days on a freaking game show - I get it now.



I made the call to keep going after seeing him, since I could still put one foot in front of the other, but never at any point did I feel confident that I was going to actually finish until I could see the Bay Bridge from the industrial area. Haight Ashbury had been miserable - where I had once planned to fly down those hills and make up lost time, I was now almost tiptoeing. The uphill back to Potrero was a much needed relief. Soon after that intersection, I texted Dr B to see where he was - en route to the finish! That helped. At that point I knew that if I was very careful to listen to my knees I could probably walk the rest if I needed to. The problem was, I had been leapfrogging the 4:55 pacer guy for an hour or two and couldn't bear the thought of coming in over five hours. My goal during the race had changed from "just finish" to "just finish before that fucking guy." (Okay, so sometimes a little competition is healthy). The last section was surprisingly hot and I started trying to disassociate myself, which I hate to do in a scenic race I've spent a retarded amount of money on, but felt it was necessary. I turned my music up and zoned out. I began to pass a significant amount of people for the first time and felt like a runner again. I hit the finish line with everything I had. I collected my medal, and my husband collected me, and we carefully walked the 1.5 miles back to the hotel.

Aftermath:
My time when all was said and done was 4:59. I was within seconds of the dreaded five hour finish, which is another lesson in times being mostly just arbitrary judges of how you ran. If I had spent thirty more seconds in the port a potty would I have felt less worthy? No. That would be stupid. I know how hard what I did was and so does my husband, and that's all that really matters to me. That's almost as good in my head as a marathon PR. That does not mean, of course, that I don't want to come back and destroy this course. Those hills I power hiked are not harder than what I hike in the mountains, and I used to be good at running downhill (at least on trails). I think I can train to do that course in under four and a half, maybe closer to 4 if I can get those downhills under control.

I probably will NEVER do another race injured, because without the help of naproxen I likely wouldn't have started, and the naproxen probably contributed to a huge problem with my digestive system for 48 hours after the race. I developed what I'm 75% certain was ischemia (I'll let you Google that one) back at the hotel, which put me on the phone with the Kaiser advice nurse later that afternoon. She told me to go to urgent care, I didn't, and I'm fine. This is apparently a thing that happens to distance runners and can be serious, and in one noted marathon case, fatal. So kids - hydrate well and don't take NSAIDs and Red Bull before a marathon. I haven't been scared off endurance running, and I'm still hoping to complete an ultra, but if it happens again I will definitely be reconsidering.

Thoughts and tips:

• The marathon expo was fine and well organized. Parking seemed to be available. Not a ton of swag, but better than Portland.
• The spectator shuttles sold out quickly in preferred time slots, but were a cool feature. The California 1 MUNI line was a good alternative.
• Lines for port a potties were long, like really long.
• The starting corrals were really chaotic - there seemed to be the most confusion between corrals 4 thru 6. More signage would've been helpful.
• Photos are free this year and times were posted online by the evening. Cool.
• Shirts and medals are reasonably attractive.
• Aid stations were often depleted for us slower runners. Water wasn't getting filled fast enough, and tables were sometimes surprisingly bereft of Dixie cups, which sounds like a dick complaint about volunteers, but it was a thing.
• Compared to Portland, food was limited. I remember finally grabbing some Gu Chomps well into the race. It's fine because I carry my own nutrition, but it did seem somewhat sparse. I could be wrong about this, because I did not stop at every station.
• Okay, there were a couple moments where I was worried I had veered off course and was running part of the second half marathon that was going on concurrently - it gets a little hectic in Golden Gate park, but I was also a hot mess at that point so who knows.
• The rest of my complaints are old lady type shit about how freaking expensive SF is for a destination race. Our hotel had hard beds and shared bathrooms and still was pricey. AirbnB is probably your best bet. But you'll still bleed money (maybe thats what was happening to me after the race?!) Like, we went down to Big Sur the next day and I almost had a stroke dealing with the SFO Budget rental car people. I have rarely spent so much money in a short period of time. News flash: one of the best cities in the world is expensive. Fortunately, I got over it.

Gear: 

Brooks Pure Cadence 2, half full Nathan hydration pack (I debated the handheld but decided to stick with how I'd trained on my long runs), Brooks Cap, cheapo sunglasses, a Nike running tank and well-worn REI leggings, 2 gels and Sports Beans. I used the Nuun supplied by the aide stations judiciously. Copious sunblock despite the foggy start. I was happy with my prep.

So that's it. It was brutal, I'm glad I did it, and this has been a hell of a year so far. Now, time to hike!


Some shots from our day trip to Big Sur:

#TSFM2014 #thesanfranciscomarathon #sfmarathon #sanfrancisco #sanremohotel #bigsur #distancerunning

Mid-May Trail Run at Mount St Helens

Sidelined

Somehow I trained all last year and managed to avoid a single injury, but 2014 has started out inauspiciously. Saturday's run was glorious, and I don't use that word lightly. The sun was out, my mileage was decent - I had a completely dorky surge of well-being. Sunday knocked me down a notch.

Going over the Hawthorne Bridge yesterday I discovered that, no, you can't always just run through the pain. My knee cap started nagging at me around mile five, until eventually a nasty spasm caused my leg to buckle. I limp-walked furiously the last mile back to my car and drove straight to Portland Running Co. to replace my Brooks. I previously suspected my trouble was biking too hard, but I think instead it was pounding down MacLeahy Trail and back up Cornell in trailrunners that probably did me in. A kneecap that only hurts when I run and only after certain distances sounds just like "runner's knee" from what I've read online. So now I'm on a stretch, ice, rest regimen, and it SUCKS. My only consolation is that my actual marathon training program doesn't officially start until March, so there's theoretically time to fix this. I ordinarily wouldn't complain online, but since this is something that a lot of people seem to experience, I thought I'd put it out there and see if anyone has any advice.

Oh yeah, and I'm also cutting back on coffee for health reasons, so that's just peachy. No coffee, no running and the mountains are snowed in, so basically...

Portland Marathon Writeup

I had a great time today running the Portland Marathon. Tapering had been difficult for me, and yesterday I was full of doubt. But this morning I woke up in a good mood, and Dr. B played "Eye of the Tiger" while I crammed a banana and peanut butter bagel into my face.

We took the Max in before dawn, and it was full of other suburbanites in fluorescent shoes making jokes about pooping and chafing. The weather was clearly cooperating, with start temps chilly but not enough to warrant the extra layer I made my husband schlep. He was able to sit with me in my corral and see me off (although the tight security would mean later that no one could see us cross the finish line). At 6:30 the lines for the bathrooms were basically backed up into our faces, so it was somewhat of a relief to get going.

My approach to calm my nerves was to view this run as just another training run. For the most part, it was familiar ground. There was a rather large hill at the end of Naito Parkway which I hadn't practiced or even anticipated, but adrenaline carried me through. I felt a bit tired in the flat stretch around mile 7 or 8 doubling back through the industrial district, but folks on the sidelines and the fast people racing in the opposite direction kept my interest. There were plenty of water and Ultima stations (and port-a-porties with surprisingly short lines) available almost the whole time, with maybe one limited stretch between northwest neighborhoods and the St Johns Bridge. At 13 miles, I realized I'd shaved over twenty minutes off my half marathon time at the Timberline Half.

The hill for Germantown Road at mile 17 didn't hit me too hard, since I'd practiced going over that bridge several times. In fact, I think it tricked my body into thinking I hadn't been running as long, since it usually fell at about mile 10 in my practice runs. Plus, the mountains were out, with Adams perfectly framed in the arch.

After a slight dip and climb up to Willamette Blvd., the course flattens out for a while, and is much more scenic. Those neighborhoods are some of the prettiest in Portland, and the spectators were great. Here there were gummy bears, pretzels (the hard ones) and candy corn.I was feeling damn good sailing down Greeley into a headwind with my playlist changing from NPR podcasts to KMFDM.


After another modest climb from Interstate Ave. to the Broadway Bridge, I was in the home stretch. I knew I was ahead of the pacer for a 4:25 finish, but I wasn't believing it. I had resigned myself to thinking that it was silly to expect to run faster than your training runs. But I did just that, with a final time of 4:24:38. And I didn't even cry! I just felt a little... well, broken. The last two miles of every long run are the hardest. Dr. B had a smile and a bouquet of flowers waiting for me at the end of the security gates, which was the best part.

Cons: The whole security/Boston thing was frankly irritating and overwrought. No spectators at the finish? Come on! 

Also, the live tracking and results websites were glitchy and slow. Not a big deal. 

Pros: Portland in great weather is a thing of beauty. 

Gear: Pretty basic. Wicking tee and knee-length leggings, ankle socks and Brooks Pure Flow 2. Phone holster and headphones, SpiBelt with 2 Powerbar gels and a pack of Shotblocks, small medical kit, i.d. cards. Brooks running cap and sunglasses. Wore sunblock and chafe cream. Handheld Nike water bottle. Carried running jacket/windbreaker to the start but didn't need it. This all worked for me because I practiced with everything.

17 Mile Training Run

As I write this, I literally can't stop eating. I went to Laughing Planet for a smoothie and nachos, then I went to Trader Joe's for groceries but ate the entire way home. Chicken, cheese, dried mango, sesame almonds... protein...CARBS! Anne... SMASH!

I'm not just being a fat kid, I swear. Today was my 17-mile long run day, the one I've been nervous about for weeks now. I knew I could probably squeeze out 15 miles last weekend, because the Timberline half marathon was actually 14 miles on a trail. Then on Sunday and Monday I backpacked 26 pretty tough miles. Last night I was still moving furniture at work at midnight (don't ask). My mid-week training was lacking to say the least. I was a touch worried about today.

This was the biggest mental hurdle I've had to cross yet. I got pretty pissy around mile 16, mostly due to accidentally cutting my loop too short and having to backtrack. But the stretch over the St John's Bridge and down Willamette Blvd was lovely! It took me three hours and seven minutes, which is an overall 11 minute mile pace. I'm not thrilled with that, but it's average for first time marathoners. When I hit the half marathon mark today, I was at 2:22 -- even if I was able to keep that pace would put me closer to five hours than four for the marathon. Arbitrarily, I have decided that I would like to finish under 4:30, but that's not very realistic when looking at my half marathon pace. I have over a month to improve my speed, though.

I really like this whole marathon training thing. I have little time for anything else between this and tearing up the Washington trails. My sommelier studies have been sacrificed and my dogs seem to have forgotten who I am, true. But if it means I can eat a block of cheese and not gain weight, or that I can motor up a glacier with a backpack on almost as fast as my hiking buddy, I'll take it. Maybe there are more of these things in my future...

I Like Lists, Here's One Now

Things that might happen to you while training for your first marathon:

• You will cycle through periods of taking too much about running to being extremely, self-consciously closed mouthed about it. Like, to the point where people ask "Hey, are you still training?
• Hunger will become a constant and you'll give yourself license to eat more... and then get pissed that you haven't lost any weight.
• Your hair will begin to look like crap from constant washing and drying after workouts and from sun damage. Particularly if you have recently dyed your hair from black to blonde... ahem.
• You will actually blow out a pair of running shoes and a more experienced runner will be horrified that you have not yet purchased a new pair. You will immediately head to REI.
• Your morning routine suddenly revolves conspicuously around the bathroom. Enough said.
• People will ask you how you're doing and you will say "busy" in a harried, serious manner, and then be embarrassed because running four days a week, hiking 1-2 of those other days and only working four days a week sounds pretty darn luxurious to some people.
• Riding a bike up a steep hill suddenly becomes a lot easier - Your husband refers to you as "Quadzilla."
• Maybe you'll tailor that "Summer To-Do List" to something slightly more rational... or maybe you won't.
•  Doing the dishes becomes a weekly, rather than a nightly, chore.
• You watch your husband leave for a bike ride all by his lonesome, because you HAVE TO RUN TODAY.

Summer Will-Do List

Not me. Yet.

Having peered up Asgaard Pass, I got the crazy notion in my head that I want to traverse the Enchantments in one day. The overnight permit system sounds like a pain and I'm not sure I want to deal with it. The car shuttle/hitchhiking situation might prove too tricky, however, in which case I'll just do Little Annapurna. At the same time, I decided to train for the Portland Marathon in October to get myself fit enough to manage the demands of the traverse. Also because I'm a masochist, and I just want to do it. I just need a little more snow-melt and I'm off and running...

1. Mt Aix Dayhike
2. Blanca Lake Dayhike
3. K.Katwalk or Lake Ingalls Dayhike
4. Robin/Jade Lakes or Lake Ingalls Dayhike
5. Wright Mtn via Snow Lake Dayhike
6. Pilchuck/Lake 22 Dayhike
7. Lyman Lakes Backpack
8. Mt Persis/Lake Serene Dayhike
9. Tank Lakes Backpack
10. Baker/Shuksan Dayhikes
11. Close hike (Norway Pass?)
12. Middle Sister Backpack
13. Little Annapurna Dayhike/Enchantments Traverse
14. Close Hike (Yocum Ridge?)
15. Portland Marathon

My First Half Marathon

The day finally came and went and now I'm left wondering how to keep up with running while balancing hiking, cycling, sommelier studies and a full-time work schedule. There is a race early next year on the PCT that looks appealing, so maybe I'll train for that as another early season opener. But I also have the goofy idea in my head that I'd like to do a marathon or an ultra, although the fact that i can hardly go down the stairs right now is making double my distance today look pretty fantastical.

I'll do a little write-up of the event for anyone who stumbles across this blog. First off, my training. I didn't follow any real training plan, although my regime loosely mirrored Hal Higdon's novice 2 program. Back in December I started running slow 3 miles on the trails at Forest Park and was soon running 6-9 miles. I did this about 3 times a week, with a long run a Saturday and cycling on Sundays. I generally kept to this, increasing my mileage every week. My splits generally fell between 9 and 10 minutes on pavement, but slower on trails.

Yesterday I was anxious about "tapering." I felt as though I was being too easy on myself and should've run more. I got fearful of eating too much and putting on weight when I should've been at my fittest. But I forced myself to rest the last two days, especially since I work on my feet. I ate cheese and roasted chicken, avoided grains and anything else that has been known to bother my temperamental stomach. My carb load dinner was just a huge salad and then fingering potatoes and brown rice with olive oil and salt. In the morning I had a whole wheat wrap with peanut butter and a banana and a sugar-free Red Bull (gross, I know, but sometimes my coffee addiction doesn't mesh with running). Whatever I did, it was right. I hit the trail slightly hungry but with no runner's stomach issues. I carried Gatorade and Gu packets.

The route starts off with a pretty nice downhill to the lake as a warm up, and then a short rocky staircase climb after which the trail is mostly rollers on gentle forest trail. Runners leave staggered, but I still had to navigate past walkers who had lined up with the faster runners. No big deal, the trail was wide enough to accommodate everyone. I hopped onto an 11 minute mile paceline for a little while, then about 4 or 5 miles in decided I was selling myself short and should kick it up. By the first aid station I was feeling the difference between trail and road running - it's much harder, even on a "flat" trail like Timothy Lake. But I plodded on, a little faster this time, now consistently in the low 10 minute mile pace range. When I got to the dam I began to feel confident that I would finish, and followed the scenic shoreline around the south side of the lake alternating between grimacing with pain and shooting around other runners when I felt a surge of energy.  The climb back up the hill at the end slowed everyone down - back in the mid-pack no one was running up that thing. I was shooting for finishing the 14.1 mile loop around 2 hours 30 minutes (actually under, but once I saw how much slower the trail was I decided anywhere in the vicinity would be fine), and finished with a time of 2:31. I was fifth in my division, middle of the overall group, and in the upper third of all women. I'm fine with that for my first half, especially since trail times are slower. I don't know if I left everything I had out there, but I certainly couldn't have done much better even if I had started off faster.

The weather was nice, the mosquitoes in the morning were heinous. Dr B and friends had gone biking in the area, so after my little post-race snack and nap in the back of my car we all went to the Ratskellar in Government Camp. I took the risk of drinking alcohol with a depressed immune system and had a crappy margarita with a salt rim. Mmmm, sour mix.

Timothy Lake Test Run

Okay, so I didn't go all the way around Timothy Lake for my big practice run in preparation for the half marathon next month. Because apparently I'm an idiot, I accidentally looped back around to my car about 4 miles in. That's the kind of mistake you make when you're overconfident, not looking at a map, going "fast" and listening to headphones. When I realized what I did, I decided to explore about the same distance in the other direction and hit the PCT junction before turning back around. Essentially, I did an 8-mile figure eight. Great. My limited impression is that is was a) hot, and b) hillier than I expected. Parts were flat, sure, but some weren't, and that made me nervous. I'm hoping that I was just accidentally off-trail for those parts, otherwise it's entirely possible that I will be crawling over that finish line on June 2nd.

Loving Each Day

This week was pretty horrific for a lot of people in different parts of the country, and I spent a lot of time on my runs and rides thinking about how lucky I am just to get to do simple things like run down a country road for three hours listening to a podcast, or ride bikes for 45 miles with my husband, climbing hills together and coming home safely to a bottle of wine. It's a tough world out there, but as cheesy as it sounds I'm glad I get to experience it every day.

Rode up McNamee, up Rock Creek. The hardest part? Coming down Logie.

The .28 is the distance from my car into Starbucks.
Otherwise, I finally ran 13 miles and don't feel too shabby.

Despite my words of gratitude in this blog post, here I am telling Dr. B
to go straight to hell when he suggests we add Dixie Mtn road to our ride, already my longest
and most elevation of the year. Hey, you can't be gracious all the time.

Stats: The Rock Creek ride was only 25 miles, 1800 or so ft of gain. But, the Rocky Point Road ride was 45 miles and 4,500 +/- ft of gain. Starting to feel ready for our annual version of Tour de Blast and the soft opening of McKenzie Pass!

The Twelve Mile Mark

I ran 12 miles today, although "running" might be stretching the truth a little. Technically, I jogged at a 12 minute mile pace the circumference of Sauvie Island. The good news is that my nine mile run on Sunday was in the 10 minute mile pace range, so I feel that I will be able to bring the time down soon. My concerns are that Sauvie is extremely flat, and the Timberline Half is not only a hilly unpaved trail, but an extra mile longer than a true half marathon. Tomorrow, Dog Mountain... because my legs need a break?

Shamrock Run 8K

My first race! Super fun, perfect weather, 9.5 minute mile pace. Over way too soon.

A Full Weekend

I packed the last couple days full, with a nine mile running loop over the Sellwood Bridge, a surprisingly easy ride to the Vista House (didn't that used to be really hard?) and then a double whammy ski-and-run today. Trillium Lake conditions were icy and lame this morning, which just goes to show that bluebird skies do not equal prime conditions. Reluctantly, I returned to Portland and headed down to Helvetia to run on some country roads until I got bored. And so far, the carb-protein combo is doing the job of helping me keep my energy and immunity up. And all of this is to get me ready for what I really love to do - hike my ass off. I've been plotting the two challenging hikes to Tank Lakes (via the east Fork Foss River through Necklace Valley) and Jade Lake (via Deception Pass) in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness and hoping I'll be ready by summer. Good times, good times.

Hagg Lake Run

I set out to test myself today at Hagg Lake, a week after the flu took me down. I initially wanted to run the entire loop on the dirt trail, until I realized halfway in that the trail is fifteen miles as opposed to my familiar road biking loop, which is only ten. After five miles of struggling up and down muddy inclines, following elk tracks and scaring huge ospreys, I opted to pop out onto the pavement. Still hilly, but manageable. According to the pedometer, I did just under 12 miles by the time I got back to my car. Not all of it was running, but that's okay. My brain is already used to managing long, boring distances from years of hiking - now it's a question of getting my body in tune with my mind. It took me a couple hours to complete this loop, and granted, I wasn't going for speed: I tinkered with my iPhone, took many "stretching" breaks, slowed down to unwrap cough drops, etc. The point was to finish, having run most of it, without getting sick afterwards. Both before and after, I had carbs and protein in the form of my sweet potato/protein powder/glutamine/blueberry shake and... a tuna sandwich from a gas station. Because it wouldn't be me if I did everything right.

Exercise-Induced Immunosuppression, Or: WTF Is This Shit?

In case you haven't noticed, I'm not an elite athlete. I sleep well, have a job that couldn't be less sedentary,  and try to exercise a little during the week. But I also like to eat and drink, and as a result have to push myself really, really hard on the weekends to do the things I want to be able to. This weekend, for instance, I felt great after two bike rides, and kept telling myself how awesome it was that I was kicking ass on those Gorge hills in February. I couldn't wait to hit the trail today and try to run 10 miles for the first time, and spent all night looking at the weather report to try and find the best spot. And while that was going on, little by little, my body started to deteriorate until I was hacking and feverish.  Instead of charging hard another day, I stayed in bed.

This isn't the first time this has happened, either. Last summer, any strenuous hike of more than 4,000 feet of elevation gain or a distance of more than 12 miles could end in me feeling like I was kicked by a horse. I was embarrassed by it, at first, thinking it obviously reflected poorly on my fitness. But eventually I stopped feeling sorry for myself and started doing research. Apparently, it is a very common thing for even trained athletes to experience suppressed immune system function after a race, match or any strenuous physical event lasting more than a few hours. This leads from symptoms ranging from simple flu-like aches and pains lasting only a day to full-blown upper respiratory infections.

From what I've been reading, I could combat this by managing my pre-workout carb intake better. I tend to not eat as much before a big ride or hike because it seems counterproductive to gorge on calories when trying to lose weight. But I've read several places that carbs can help, so there you go. Also, supplements to reduce inflammation are supposed to be effective, so I guess a trip to the vitamin store is in my near future. It seems that it's all tied to adrenaline and cortisol stress hormones somehow. I usually flail about megadosing on vitamin C after I start to feel sick, which sometimes seems to work despite a lack of hard scientific evidence in its favor. I'm obviously drinking a shit-ton of liquids, resting, and eating well, but none of this changes the fact that I have lost a day off to illness simply because I went for a sunny but cold bike ride. So I'm going to try some of these solutions I've been reading about, but if that doesn't work it's time to talk to a pro. Because this lying around crap is unacceptable.

Dee-lightful

Just got back from a trail run at Tamanawas Falls. The temperature was just around freezing and my footing was cautious at best. The sun was out in Hood River as I drove home and I glimpsed the stark white top of Mount Adams above the clouds. I literally did a little happy dance in my seat at the thought that I'd been up there. Life is beautiful.

What I've Been Up To

Running! I've been trail running 3 times a week on Leif Erickson with my long runs on Saturday hovering around 7 miles. I hope to work my way up to a half marathon by the spring, maybe something like the Timberline Half at Timothy Lake. Something scenic and mountainy, to keep me motivated and in my comfort zone. After that, I don't know. I want to run a marathon someday, but I have quite a roster of Washington hikes to knock out next summer. One thing at a time.What's most important is that I'm happy, and always moving forward.

Brooks Pure Cadence Running Shoes

I love my new road running shoes. They're minimalist, comfortable and loud as hell. The heel is squishy, so I get the little bit of comfort I probably don't need. They're very supportive, although would be destroyed within minutes on a trail. I overdid it on tonight's first run in a long time, but no shin splints. That tells me I'm on to something good. I have secret aspirations to run a marathon someday (even a half marathon would be a big deal for me) but for now I'm just galloping around the neighborhood at night to Depeche Mode songs.

$120 at REI. I tried to order from Brooks directly, in Pullman, Wash. but they were out of stock. Also, they run quite small. My size 9.5 gunboats fit a 10.5 comfortably.