Last weekend I ran my first ultra, the Way Too Cool 50K, and I was going to write up a short blog post but then I wrote about the two lessons I learned for Wednesday’s newsletter instead, and then I thought I’d just like add some stuff here when photos come out, and then they didn’t come out and I had other stuff going on like work. So, anyway. Here’s the nitty-gritty if you want it.
I’ve decided I probably won’t keep doing these weekly recaps of my life. Not that I won’t continue to tell you all the excruciating details of my life; it’ll just be with less scheduled regularity. With the Wednesday newsletter and Friday podcast — even if those are more about triathlon stuff — that really feels like as much of a weekly dose of Kelly as anyone needs. So if you just aren’t completely fulfilled and scintillated by my Twitter or Instagram, you should probably sign up for the newsletter or re-read all my weekly training recaps from the last year. Or, just wait a little while, because I’ll still blog plenty (just not every Monday).
This Saturday is the Way Too Cool 50K. This is currently the forecast:
I had basically settled on all my gear and shoe and clothes and food choices. Was set and ready to go (as much as one can be ready to go). Those choices, however, were based on what the weather’s been like all winter — ie. 60-70 degrees and sunny. Now, I’m having to slightly re-plan, well, everything. The only upside, as far as I can tell, is 1. at least in the scheme of all people I have more cold rainy trail running experience than most, and 2. Steve thinks it’ll be interesting now.
I had this idea this past week that I’d do this week’s post as a running diary throughout the week (which I’ve done before). Usually, when I do this, I just write it in notes on my phone over the week and then press publish at the end.
Well, here is as far as I got, before I promptly fell asleep and completely forgot:
OK, OK, guys, I’m awake, stop meowing.
God, I’m tired. I guess I really should get out of bed. I guess. I really do have things I need to do.
Oh, look, the Olympics are on.
I have put away all my stuff from L.A. organized my schedule and notes for the week, redone my calendar, sent some emails, and can’t delay getting started on these workouts any longer. How slowly can I gather my gear?
Weighted backpack stair repeats. This is really a lot of days of ultra-training in a row. I am tired. On the plus side: zone out and put on a podcast. On the downside: my legs and brain hurt.
Easy swimming post-stairs really shouldn’t be this hard. It’s just easy. Why does this sound impossible? Why am I sitting in the car about to cry? I am legitimately about to cry. I think I might be tired. Or hungry. Or both.
Eat a Reeses to get the job done. #protip
Everyone sucks. Everything is stupid. I should just quit everything.
I might still be hungry. And tired. I should probably not make any life decisions right now.
Or I should make all my life decisions because fuck it.
The swim got done.
I was about to get up and make dinner but now Tupac the Cat is sleeping on me. This has not been a wildly successful day.
It’s not that the fatigue is a surprise. You could have fairly easily looked at my schedule and known that right now I’d be at the end of the three week block of miles I’d need to put in to be 50K ready on March 3. Coming off the almost nothing of November/December, it was just a reality that I’d be constantly at the edge of my fitness and also the edge of how quickly I could really build that fitness.
But something can both be 100% predictable and logical, and still not be easy.
I haven’t really hit this kind of training wear and tear since…September? I remember that it happens. I know that it happens. Doesn’t mean I’m awake enough to care or to be polite to some random guy who wants to monologue at me about how he’s a really big deal at Stanford and here’s a list of all the renovations he’s done on his home and what he paid. And, anyway, when the majority of your volume is coming from running it’s The Worst.
Add to that the emotional seesaw of the Olympics and this morning I was glued to the TV for well over an hour of ski jumping, just because I couldn’t motivate myself to stand up and there was something strangely mesmerizing about them going down the hill and take off and land, over and over. That they get “style” points is bullshit though. Don’t argue with me about it, not this week.
Thursday I had my final (sorta) follow-up appointment at Stanford. It was the shortest appointment ever. My doctor basically said, “Well, if you haven’t had any more heart episodes since early December, then I guess it’s back to normal. We still don’t know exactly why it came on so intensely, but fingers crossed it stays away and I don’t see you again for many years.”
Fingers crossed is always the official medical diagnosis you want to hear.
I ran a really shitty marathon this weekend. I’m not even sure I was running at the end. It was so bad I didn’t even think I had races that bad anymore — at least not in the last two years, not since this whole getting fast thing. Continue reading “A Really Bad Marathon Story”
That’s really all I have to say. Officially, the results from the Memorial Day 10K say I ran 38:56, but I think that’s gun time not really chip time and my watch said 38:53.8 when I pressed stop. So, screw it, I’m counting it. Continue reading “I Ran a 38:53 10K!!”
Short version: I ran 1:26:27 according to my watch and 1:26:29 according to the official results. Apparently, I was so out of it at the end that I came to a complete stop as I pressed “stop,” and then it took me an extra two seconds to walk all the way across the second timing mat and have my chip register. Either way, it’s a significant PR over 1:27:58 (which itself was a significant PR back in 2013). Evidently, I’m not just making up this ‘I swear I’m training a lot and getting faster’ thing. Continue reading “Race Report: Kaiser Half-Marathon”
I’m a big believer in the big things are the big things–which, triathletes, you all could stand to remember. Swim, bike, run. Stop worrying about everything else so much. Continue reading “The Little Things Matter”
Or, maybe, more accurately, be generally in the same vicinity as Olympians. Because, to be clear, I think 238 people beat me at the National Cross Country Club Championships who weren’t Olympians. And I was 240th. Out of 380. Continue reading “Because Sometimes You Just Have to Race Some Olympians”
I knew what I needed to do to win and I did it.