Lemon Cake and Life Lessons

January 30th has been a tough day the last seven years. Usually there are a few tears. Or maybe a lot of tears. This year, I decided that instead of sadness there would be celebration. Instead of mourning my mom's loss, I would celebrate her life. So we had steaks, and lemon cupcakes. Because in my family on special occasions there was always lemon cake. (Plus Big E loves lemon so it was a double win.) 
  
To my surprise, I actually made it through the day without tears. Of course I had to fight them off a few times, but to keep them at bay, I focused what I learned from mom over the years. I'd never really sat down and thought about this before so some of it actually surprised me, but then mom was kind of like that. Just when you thought you had her pegged, she'd bust out of her shell a little more and you'd see she wasn't nearly as quiet and shy as she first seemed.  
  
So, to celebrate her life, here are a few lessons I picked up from her over the years. Some she told me. Some I learned at the time from watching her. Many have come later, when I wonder what she would do in a situation and realize her actions already taught me that long ago.

Embrace joy. Every day. No matter what.

Laugh a lot more than you cry.  Both are acceptable. Just keep the laughing to a maximum and the crying to a minimum and life will be good.

Listen without judgment.  There's probably no better way to build trust. Plus, you'll be surprised how much deeper your conversations can go when people aren't worried what you'll think of them.

Use your voice selectively. Especially your raised voice.  Figure out what really matters to you. Speak up for that. Let the rest of the little stuff go. 

Be kind instead of right. At the end of your life, no one is going to remember all the times you were right. They just might remember all the times you were kind though. 

Say thank you, I'm sorry and I love you. Can you think of a time when you truly regretted saying these words? Probably not, but most of us can likely think of a time when we wish we had.

Choose your path. Other people will try to put you on the one they find most acceptable.  Toss acceptable (and comfortable) aside and go for the one that will make you exceptional. 

Know that it's never too late. To change yourself, or your relationship with someone you love, or the way you view the world. The only person truly keeping where you are right now is you. Quit blaming everyone else for who you are and become who you want to be.

Show up every day. Not every day is going to present you with something great to look forward to. Get your butt out of bed anyway and make something great happen, no matter how small it might be.

Finish what you started. Don't just set goals. Set them and then move yourself closer to meeting them everyday, even when it's uncomfortable. Especially when it's uncomfortable. If you have to work harder than everyone else, then work harder than everyone else. In then end, you'll be tougher for it. 

Go down singing. Or fighting. Or dancing. Or riding. Or whatever it is you love. By all means, do it until the very end. 




 

All That Matters is Smelling Good

So many weeks have flown by I don't know where to start. It's always tempting to say I was busy, but I'll let the Wise Ringmaster explain why I'm hoping to never use that phrase again:

https://doingthehardthings.com/2017/12/13/singlespeed-psychologist/

I share his feelings on the whole busy thing. If I never have to hear how busy someone is again for the rest of my life, I would be insanely satisfied. Instead of saying I'm busy, from now on I'll shoot for, "I've been incredibly content doing lots of cool shit."

So, on that note- what have I been doing? Well, I'll admit I haven't spent nearly as much time outside as I'd hoped. A torn thumb ligament mixed with some wussiness in the face of the recent frigid temps have led to a lot of this:

Thankfully I can finally hold the bars on a bike, even if it's not in the normal fashion, and it's finally above zero here so I can get my incredibly content ass outside on the bike now and actually get ready for Polar Roll and other cool shit like this mushy creek crossing that happened last weekend:

Yes, I know I should just ride across it next time, but considering that I actually attempted to crawl across while pushing my bike before I stood up, I'll take walking across as a big step in the right direction.

Big E and I did actually get outside for a hike on Christmas Day despite the sub-zero temps. 

Somehow he's making it look much warmer than it was. Of course, he was probably warmer than me because he carried all our stuff on his back. Yes, I am spoiled with my own personal sherpa. Every time I go on an adventure with him I wonder how the heck I actually survive on my own adventures without him to carry my crap.

Of course, there's also been my new obsession, martial arts. Thankfully the gloves protect the thumb pretty well for Muay Thai so I was able to return after a week. Good thing, because now that I spend a few hours a week punching stuff I'm not sure how I ever survived without taking my aggression out before. Not surprisingly, I actually feel a lot more relaxed now. Nothing is more relaxing than pummeling a bag while pretending it's someone's face.....

Yesterday I finally returned to Jiu Jitsu after almost a month off. Coach taped my thumb to a ball to avoid any reinjury.

We call it "The Claw". Of course I realized too late that I should've had him do this after I changed my clothes. Trying to tie a Gi and your pants with one thumb is nearly impossible. Halfway through class my pants were falling down, my Gi was untied and my hair was out of the ponytail and flying everywhere. Fortunately, according to one of my rolling partners, I still smelled good. Thank goodness. At least I had one thing going for me.

From now on, my new Jiu Jitsu tactic is to always smell good. You never know. Maybe it will make my partners less likely to want to kick my ass. Heck, it's probably a good tactic for life. Smell like freshly baked cookies (or funnel cakes as my partner put it) and who wouldn't be nice to you? 

Excuse me now while I go put some lotion on....

Every Obstacle is an Opportunity

I haven't run in almost two weeks. That's almost as long as I went without running after Marji Gesick. I don't really plan to run tomorrow either. I might. Or I might not. That's sort of freeing. I still love running, but it took trying something new to realize why.

Really what I love about running, or biking or anything active is breaking through a limit. Pushing the edge of the comfort zone. Going right to that edge of "I can't do this" and doing it.

I thought I did that running and biking a lot. Then I tried martial arts and realized that the edge of my comfort zone was nowhere near where I thought it was. What I thought was getting out of my comfort zone was really just sort of tiptoeing along the edge of it. I was just doing something I was already pretty comfortable doing for a little longer, or a little harder.  Sure, it's rewarding, but after every big accomplishment, I'm really just right back in my comfort zone.

Enter Jiu Jitsu.

Here's how I explained it to Eddie the other day:

"You know how with a lot of things when you're trying to learn you're uncomfortable, but you figure it out and then you're comfortable so then you push a little more and you're uncomfortable again, but then you're comfort, etc.  Well that's not how Jiu Jitsu works. You're uncomfortable. Then before you ever get comfortable you're more uncomfortable and then it just gets more uncomfortable."

That was two days ago. I was so shattered from the workout I actually had a good private cry later in the day. Doing a sport where someone else is setting the pace, where someone else is holding you down, where someone else is fighting every move you make is completely foreign to me.  Sometimes I hate it. Which is exactly why I made myself go back the next day. Because I can live my whole life doing what's easy and never learning or I can get my butt into the gym, face my fears and come out of it changed.

Of course, just to push my limits further, when I walked into class last night, there wasn't a single person even close to my size in the place. As coach put it today, "There wasn't a white belt in the room under 180 and then she walked in."  As we warmed up, they were actually having a conversation about what position they used to play in football.

At this point my brain said, "I'm gonna die." Thankfully my heart said, "Give it a try, you're probably not gonna die in class. Probably."

So I tried. And it was awesome. Of course they took a little mercy on me, seeing as how they could all probably squash me with their palm. But by the end, after some patient teaching, I was actually rolling with one of them and started to feel just a teeny tiny bit......

comfortable.

Just a little.

I know it probably won't last and next week someone will toss me onto my back or choke me and I'll be back to being ridiculously uncomfortable. But as coach explained today while teaching me a new move, in Jiu Jitsu sometimes what looks like an obstacle is really an opportunity. It's all in how you react to it.

So here's to using uncomfortable to your advantage. To turning struggle into growth. To embracing humility. To refusing to let fear paralyze you. To accepting bumps and bruises as proud proof that you never settled for "easy". To letting other people crush your comfort zone. To using every obstacle to your advantage.

Tapping Out is Learning

It only took about a week to realize I should get a mouth guard for martial arts classes. First I got clocked in the jaw while holding the pads for a guy. His kick was a little more than powerful than I imagined.  He said I didn't even flinch when I face got hit though. Well, at least now we know I keep my eyes open while getting pummeled. Later, I discovered I'd chewed up the inside of my mouth while getting tossed around in Jiu Jitsu. Then I realized I have a little trouble keeping my tongue in my mouth when I'm exerting myself. So, yeah, a mouth guard seemed like a good idea. I'd like to keep my tongue attached as long as possible.

Needless to say I was pretty happy to have one the last time I went to Jiu Jitsu. I lost track of how many times I tapped out, which I'm pretty sure was the point since every time my favorite rolling partner tapped me out I'd hear coach yell at him to do it again. Apparently I needed to learn to tap out BEFORE something actually hurts.

This is a really difficult concept for an ultrarunner to grasp. 

Seriously it took me days to mull this over. In my head, tapping out and quitting were the same and I fu*!ing hate quitting.  Especially multiple times in 10 minutes.

I was still wrapping my head around this whole concept a few days later when I started chatting with one of the guys while flopped on the floor exhausted after Muay Thai class. This is sort of how class always goes for me. I think I can't do whatever it is the coach is asking me to do. Somehow I find a way to do it.  Forty five minutes later I collapse on the floor with my muscles literally shaking to rest for 15 minutes before the next class starts. Thankfully this is usually what everyone else is doing too so we chat. So, during this chat with my new friend whose name I was either too tired to ask or was too delirious to remember, my frustration with tapping out came up. Wise new friend of course had a pretty simple solution to my struggle. He said something like this,

"Stop thinking of it as quitting. Tapping out isn't quitting, it's learning. Every time you tap out you learn something. Sometimes you just have to tap out 5 times for the same reason before you figure out what you're learning."

Well ain't that the truth.  I have a feeling I'm so stubborn it might be more like 10 times. 

So tomorrow it's time to get right back at it. Tapping out. Learning. Facing a few fears. Keeping my tongue in my mouth. Doing stuff I thought I couldn't. Making new friends and learning their names....

Crazy Business

I have no idea how the current crazy business got started. Perhaps it was years of people telling me I should learn self defense if I'm going to run alone. Or just my need to try something new. Or hearing about the creepy guy who was out along the Marji Gesick course while I ran over Marquette Mountain by myself in the dark. Or the fact that I literally gave the last few minutes of a massage with one hand on the door knob a few weeks ago after some dude tried to hold my hand while I worked on his back.

Most likely it was all four that led me to Google "martial arts" and find a place near me that actually had day classes. I walked into Spartan Martial Arts two weeks ago in running shorts. I took a martial arts fitness class followed by a Jiu Jitsu class.  A few days later I tried out Muay Thai and left like this:

That wasn't enough to make me throw in the towel so now I'm the proud owner of a Gi, although I'd still rather do Jiu Jitsu in my running shorts. They're much cooler the Gi, but I guess I'll get used to sweating my ass off while also getting it kicked.

Most days I can't decide if I'd rather torture my lower leg some more by doing Muay Thai and having to kick the bag with an already bruised leg or spend 45 minutes getting tossed around and choked by sweaty men larger than me in Jiu Jitsu. Either way, it's usually coupled with the Martial Arts Fitness class, where we do stuff like 7 sets of 100 jump ropes followed by 8 burpees and I do my best not to pass out.

And I thought running 100 miles was hard.

Of course, I love every second of it for some odd reason. I guess I found some craziness to keep me busy for the winter.....

Circle of Life

I'm never having children, which is probably a good thing.  I loath the sound of crying babies, cherish sleep more than anything other than running and biking and detest clutter.  My memory also sucks so even if a kid didn't drive me bat shit crazy with noise and messiness, I'd probably forget about it and leave it somewhere. Even my own parents never pressured me to have kids, probably because they were terrified I'd raise them in a minivan while traveling the country.  I like to think they did a good job raising me, but even I know their efforts to break my gypsy ways completely failed.

My point here is (there really is a point to my rambling sometimes) I will thankfully never know what post partum depression feels like but if it's anything like the post race funk I get into I'll just go ahead and add that to my reasons not to have kids.

I was fairly warned by other runners that this would happen after running 100 miles, so I kept a busy schedule for the first few weeks. I figured this would be a good time to squeeze in every doctor's appointment and check up I needed since I wouldn't be able to run. Of course I didn't consider the fact that scheduling a mammogram 5 days after an ultra might not be the best idea. Marji training pretty much reduced my already size A boobs to nipples. For some reason the room I was in for the mammogram was also about 30 degrees and I was in a hospital gown so we all know exactly what happened to my nipples. (I would've snapped a photo but I didn't want to scare the tech.) This whole "they flatten like a pancake" description might be true for others, but trust me, mine weren't even silver dollar size pancakes. After the tech pulled and tugged on my nipple to get enough flesh into the machine for a side photo, she apologized, saying, "I'm sorry. I know that's uncomfortable because I have part of your shoulder in there." That's right. She had to use skin from my shoulder to make my nipple stay in there. Needless to say, I wasn't surprised when I got the results and they explained I have extremely dense breast tissue.

Well no shit. That's because you mammogrammed my shoulder.

Thankfully the follow up MRI I had on my brain a few days later was actually a good choice during Marji recovery. I was too tired to be anxious so I was more than willing to lie completely still for an hour, especially since they actually had the heat on in that room.

The dermologist visit was equally uneventful. Thankfully the chafe had healed by then, although she was quite fascinated with my feet since by then the skin and toenails were all falling off. Big E suggested I make a charm necklace out of my toenails. I briefly considered sending them to Todd. In the end I had to dispose of them since I was still having Marji nightmares and didn't need anything to remind me of the race. Or at least the painful parts of it.

Anyway, once my all my appointments were over, I was left with peeling feet, sore knees and my post Marji funk. You'd think getting to be outside in this would help:

but although I love being out there and soaking it all in, I still miss the simple, goal-oriented life of the last few months before a big race.

There's something about that forward focus on a big goal that makes life so easy. Between work, training, eating and sleeping there's not much time for bullshit. You make time only for what's important, which is, quite frankly, a really awesome way to live. You appreciate every little thing, even just having 20 minutes for a nap, because time is precious.  Things that might normally bug you don't because you're too busy running, eating or sleeping.

Then suddenly it's all done in one fell swoop and despite the fact that you vowed to enjoy some time off, despite the fact that you vowed to focus on all of your other goals when the race was over, despite the fact that you actually finished your business and should be ecstatic, you're left wanting something you can even describe.

Which of course leads me to believe that there really is no such thing as "finished business" to an endurance junkie. There will really always just be business, followed by post-business funk, followed by more and probably crazier business.

I guess we all have our own circle of life. I would try to break mine, but then I'd be bored so I'll just go ahead and embrace this funk while I search for the next great adventure. And drink. Because Big E was disappointed that I didn't finish this in under 32 hours so apparently I have my next "in between races" challenge.

 

For the Fresh Meat

 I don't normally blog about my training because I think it's boring. I like to train. When I'm done training I'd much rather chat or write about something other than how fast or slow or far I ran or rode. That said, I've had a lot of "how did you train?" type questions so here's a quick little summary of my Marji training.

I mostly just ran slow a lot. Really. Nothing fancy. Just lots of aerobic zone stuff with some drills thrown in to keep the leg turnover when the miles built up. My biggest week was 91.5 miles, which was an accident. We came up to train on the course and I ended up running 52.5 miles in two days, which was a little more than I'd planned so it pushed me over 90 miles for the week. I had a couple of other 80+ mile weeks and lots of 70s. My body loved 70 mile weeks so I went with it. I did a few 20 mile runs before the big weekend of 52.5 and then did another weekend of 45 miles in two days three weeks later. On big weeks I focused on hiking uphill fast because I knew I'd need this toward the end. I ran hilly trails as much as possible. I'd guess close to half my weeks were over 100 feet per mile of elevation. The last month or so I started practicing my night running. I probably should've done more of this, but when you live near a trail where a dead body was once found, it's hard to convince yourself to run a lot at night. Not to mention the fact that I frequently find condoms and bras on this trail and I didn't really want to spoil anyone's fun...

All that said, I think there are a lot of things other than the physical training that are important if you're going to finish Marji. So here are my tips to the newbies, who Todd affectionately refers to as "fresh meat".  These aren't meant to scare you off, because if you're crazy enough to sign up after seeing that picture of my inner thighs, you're probably not scareable. So here you go, my "How to Finish This Bitch" tips.

Prepare for this to be a team effort. As you'll be warned over and over and over on the Facebook page, there are no add stations at this race. If you're running, there are also no trail angels. That means it's you and your crew. You will not finish this race without them so be nice and appreciate what they're doing. Tell them exactly what you need ahead of time and then let them do it so you can just run.  By mile 80 you're not even going to know what you're doing anymore so it's best if your crew takes over all decisions at this point. To help them out, make sure you're organized, because what crew wouldn't love a food tub with cardboard dividers!

Adding on to that thought, learn to be low maintenance. You're probably going to be running for 24+ hours unless you're crazy fast. You'll have to poop. You might have gas in front of your pacers. You're going to get blisters. Something will probably chafe. You're likely going to fall down at least once. Your headlamp will probably run dim at some point. Your shoes will get wet at least twice, more if you fall in any of the endless trail-blocking puddles in the last 15 miles. When this stuff happens, you're going have to accept it, deal with it the best you can and keep moving forward. If you freak out every time something isn't perfect you'll never finish and your crew will probably hate you.

Be ready for weather. Every kind of weather.  It could be 60 and sunny. It could be 90. There could be a monsoon. It could snow. Heck, this is the UP. That could probably all happen in 24 hours. Add that to the fact that when you're exhausted your body won't respond as well to weather changes as you think it will.  You never know what you're going to get and how your body will react so just put your whole running wardrobe in the support vehicle. (And don't bring 4 pairs of the same running shorts. YOU WILL GET CHAFED!)

Don't count on anything flat. Seriously, the easiest part of the course this year was the 6 miles of false flat to Ishpeming from miles 59-65. Yes, the easiest part of the course is UPHILL. That said- don't let the first 18 miles fool you either. They're significantly easier than the next 82. Don't let this ridiculous picture fool you either.  It's either photoshopped or Ryan Stephens found an easy section of trail I apparently slept-ran through.

Be prepared to be out there. When you look at the course map, it seems like you're never really that far from a road, but trust me, being just a couple miles from a road in the UP is out there and you'll feel it. Couple that with the fact that Danny Hill seems to be able to build 2 miles of trail on an acre of land and you'll discover that you'll sometimes even feel "out there" when you're 1,000 feet from Ishpeming. Case it point:

Because it would be too easy to just let you run through town...

Respect the course. If right now you're saying to yourself, "It's just Michigan," rest assured that in 11 months you be saying, "Holy shit, THIS is Michigan?"  Seriously, 12+ hours after it stopped raining, I was still falling on my ass on wet rock. I finally resorted to sitting down on wet slabs of rock and just sliding down. This was at mile 80 something when sitting down was about as painful as running, but since it was that or fall on my ass, I sat.  I won't even try to describe the roots. Let's just say I face-planted more than once, usually on a section that said, "Blame Todd." You learn quite quickly at this race that if says "Blame Danny" along the trail, you're about to go uphill and if it says, "Blame Todd" well, you're probably going to face plant, fall on your ass or curse.

On that same note, understand that this course is not made for fast times. On the contrary, it's made to make you see just how tough you are. Instead of going into it thinking a buckle will be easy or you're going to get a certain time, go into it understanding that this is all about seeing just how gritty you really are.  So, if you find yourself hoping they'll actually cut the course back to only 100 miles next year or not make it any harder so you can go fast or get a buckle, you've probably signed up for the wrong race. Remember, the thing that makes this race so unbelievably cool is that they don't give into the pressure to make it easier so if you finish you get to feel like a badass.

Don't make excuses for yourself ahead of time.  Quit saying "what if" or "I wish" and go train. When life throws the 100's of curveballs at you that it inevitably will in the next 11 months, take them as a challenge instead of an excuse. Instead of saying, "But this happened, so I couldn't finish," be prepared to say, "All that happened, and I finished anyway," when you cross that line.

Be prepared for this race to haunt you, even if you finish. Case in point, this is me with the race director of the Mohican 100 at the finish line. He's offering me a free entry into the race, to which I replied, "But then I'd have to run 100 miles again."

Two days later (ok, maybe 5 days later when the chafe started healing) I wasn't just thinking about running 100 miles again, I was already thinking about coming back to Marji in a couple years to try to run under 30 hours, despite the fact that I was still having nightmares about the course. There is something about this race that will get in your soul and you won't be able to let it go.  You'll know that you could go somewhere else and run or bike faster, but you won't care. You'll want this one for some crazy reason that is probably Todd and Danny's fault.

Finally, don't forget to smile as much as you can. In training. On race day. In life. It makes every thing easier. Remember, you chose to do this. Plus you get to run or ride for a whole day, likely more. How often does that happen?