Category: Running

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Family & Friends Health Running

If the Running Shoe Fits…

Running has been almost non-existent this fall and early winter.  After I got a new pair of running shoes in September, I developed a bad shin splint on my left shin.  This happened to me last year as well, when I replaced my shoes.

I thought I needed to break them in more, so I tried running low mileage- a mile or two, a few times a week, in hopes my shin would start to feel better.  It didn’t, and it started to feel worse.  I was really disappointed because the wonderful people at Boa Technology put a custom pair of Boa laces in my new shoes, since I had these on my previous shoes, a pair from The North Face, the Boa Arvuna, which I adored.  I loved those shoes, but they were discontinued.  The Boa lacing system is superior- they don’t come untied and they stay tight. I swore after having the Boa system, I would never go back to regular shoe laces.   I wore the new custom shoes at my last race, the Denver Race for the Cure, before the shin splint developed.

By the time I could finally admit the shoes were not working for me, it was December.  I switched back to my old shoes, which were too small, while I decided what shoe to get next.  My old shoes hurt my feet, which is why I needed new shoes in the first place.  I felt like I was in a shoe black hole during the holidays and I cut down running even more because of foot pain.

In the meantime, I decided to play soccer once a week in an indoor co-ed league.  It looked like fun, and I thought it would be good cross training.  Some of my friends played on the league as well.  Shifting my  attention on soccer delayed my decision on running shoes. 

For some reason, I was having a really hard time saying good-bye to my North Face shoes.  I had accomplished a lot of running goals during the past year- some of which I never dreamed I would be able to do.  I was not sure if I’d be as successful as I wanted to be with another pair of shoes.  It sounds silly, but I suspect I’m not the only person who is attached to an important piece of gear for their sport. 

Meanwhile, John suggested I look into Pearl Izumi running shoes.  I read up on some of the pairs, and I had heard good things about them, but until you can wear them and run in them, it is hard to make a decision.  Over New Year’s we visited a Pearl Izumi outlet store.  The salesclerk who helped me said she ran a lot on trails and road, and recommended a pair, the Syncrofloat II.  I tried them on, ran around the store with them, and they felt good. But they had laces.  I wanted Boa laces.  And they were white and light pink.  I wasn’t crazy about the color.   But I noticed as I ran around the store in them, for the first time since my North Face shoes, I didn’t have any shin pain. The laces seemed to stay tight too.  So I compromised and made the best decision I could.  I bought them. 

I started breaking them in slowly- on a treadmill, so I could return them if I noticed any pain.  But I didn’t.  In fact, I started to like them the more I wore them.  They were comfortable. After running in shoes for over a year that were half a size too small, my feet felt like I had little pillows on them.  However, I was reserving my final judgment for trail and road running.

In January, I put the Pearl Izumi’s to the test.  I ran short distances- under two miles on trail, road, and bike paths.  No shin pain, or any pain anywhere else. The laces stay tight and I haven’t had them come untied yet.  I was almost ready to return to my serious running when I got hurt-again.

I was playing soccer in the first game, and was not used to the Astroturf.  I fell and the whole next week, my quad muscle hurt.  Not bad, but it didn’t feel quite normal.  Then the next game I was running and it just gave out.  I couldn’t run and it was killing me. I thought I had a cramp and stretched it out.  It felt better to try to play later in the game.  I kicked the ball with my opposite foot and while I did that, I felt my quad muscle pop.  I had definitely pulled it. 

So I’ve been resting again.  No soccer or heavy running for the past three weeks.  It has paid off, and my quad muscle is finally better. I ran pretty fast outside the other day and had no pain whatsoever.  

I decided during this break, that I am finally over the shoe issue and it’s time to accomplish some of the running goals I have.  However, I decided the best shot I will have at reaching these goals, means I stop playing soccer.  I’m not 21 anymore, and any injury can mean weeks of forced time off to heal.  Not losing any training days or weeks will be very important during the next nine weeks.

I have registered for my first half marathon in April!  I’m so excited. I have wanted to run a half marathon after the first 5K race I ran.  I was training to run one last Spring, but then my mom passed away suddenly, and I was not able to continue the training schedule.

I have the most supportive family, friends, kids, and my new running partners- my shoes.  🙂  I have to build my mileage back up, and get faster.  The few times I have run the 13.1 mile distance (not in a race); I ran it in 2:10.  My goal is to finish in sub 2 hours.  I have all the important elements in place to accomplish this.  All the pieces fit now.  They are waiting for me to take them and run.  That is what I am going to do.

Categories
Cancer Family & Friends Running

The Race for the Cure-Full Circle

It’s been a while since I’ve written a personal blog post.  Everything has been going really well, but busy.  I haven’t had a lot of spare time to write, and the last time I wrote about running was in September- yikes!  I’ve been running, but not writing about it, obviously.

The last race I ran was on October 3rd.  I ran in my second Komen Race for the Cure in Denver.  This was the very first race I ran in last year, and it got me hooked on running.  My sister, Mara, decided to run in it as well, so I had company at the start line. 

Mara & I at the start line

Mara and I at the start line

My goal for this race was to get my fastest 5K time, even though this race was not officially timed.  Last year I was just so happy I could run-period, and this year I wanted to take everything I had learned about running, all the training and hard work, and run the fastest I ever have for this distance.  I wanted to do this for me, and for all the cancer patients who can’t run or do what they want to do physically. 

Last year before this race, I received running encouragement and tips from a friend I had been back in touch with from high school.  John used to run in school and gave me a lot of good tips for running in a race, since I had never ran in one.  Over the past year, he has helped me a lot with running, and has given me advice ranging from shoes, to race strategies.  Anytime I had a question or needed advice, he did what he could to help me.  I started to think of him as my unofficial coach.  🙂  This year he came with me to the race.  

Mara and I made our way to the front of the line- amongst the hundreds of runners.  Mara has a bad knee from a rafting accident years ago, and knew she wasn’t going to be able to run the entire race, but started with me anyway.  She made me laugh as we took our place with the “Seven Minute” runners. This means you can run a mile in seven minutes.  Doable for me, but when Mara saw how serious all the runners were with their warm ups, and stretches, (and we do tend to be serious before a race,) she said, “Dang, these people are like die-hards. Oh I guess that’s you.”  It was funny to hear her impression of “us die-hards.” 

As the race started, I told Mara I’d see her at the finish line, and started running.  I felt really good.  Most of the training I have been doing since June was very intense for me, so it seemed pretty easy for the first mile.  But I had forgotten how uphill the beginning of the race was.  I was running my race pace too, so I was getting a bit tired in mile two.  I loved seeing all the people cheering along the street. 

A big difference for me this year was I have started running without music. I started training in July without it. I was training to run in a race that didn’t allow music.  I felt more focused and in-tune with my breathing and pacing.  I was glancing at my Garmin to see what kind of pacing I was on, and it was going well.  Right around the end of mile 2, I got tired and forced myself to slow down some.  I remembered towards the end of the race, with about half mile to go, there was a steep hill from the off ramp waiting.  I knew I was in good shape, but wanted to make sure I saved some energy to tackle that hill.

I found out later that Mara’s knee gave out after her first mile.  She walked the rest of the race, and was able to take some pictures since she wasn’t running.

Looking at this picture afterwards made me appreciate all the more, how fortunate I have been regarding my health.  The entire time I was running, I could see the people ahead of me, and the guys riding the bikes, outlining the course.  At one point I could look down over the runners ahead of me and figured there were a few hundred.  Last year, I was running more like in the crowd in the picture.  It always makes me run a little faster when I realize there are more people behind me than in front of me.

Before I knew it, the hill was there.  It was hard, and I was trying to increase my speed since the race was almost over.  I ran over the summer on some 21% grade dirt hills, in the very hot sun, so I was telling myself this was nothing compared to that. 

I finished the hill, and it was a sprint to the finish line.  There was only about .15 miles left.  I am sure I glanced at my Garmin, but I don’t remember at what time.  But I do remember I was on pace to beat my previous 5K best of 24:59.  I ran as fast as I could to cross the finish line.  I hit stop on the Garmin, but before I looked at the time, I took a few seconds to just appreciate that I was at the race at all, and how much fun I have had running during the past year. 

I looked down at my time, and there it was: 24:53.  I ran my fastest 5K time!  Last year I had finished in 36:25- what a difference a year makes- in more ways than one.

I saw John waiting for me, smiling with the camera at the end of the finish line. I was happy to see him there, and after a year plus of me asking him about all the in-and-outs of running, and him helping me, it was nice to be able to put it all together and achieve what I was hoping for.  Even though this picture is blurry, I still like it.  It captures the spirit of the race for me:

I am sure I had a huge smile on my face after this as I showed John the time, and told him I just ran my fastest 5K.  We went to find some water and wait for Mara.  When she finished, I told her I was very proud of her- it would have been very easy for her to sleep in, and she agreed, but I think it is wonderful she got out and gave it her all!

After the race- we did it!

Since this wasn’t a timed race- there are no stats- no official times, or age group finishing places.  John told me the first man finished around 14 minutes, and the first woman was a few minutes after that.  He said he didn’t see that many women who finished ahead of me who looked like they were in my age group. 

It was my best race yet, and I was thrilled I was able to run my fastest in this race, when last year it was an accomplishment just to run.  I took over 11 minutes off my 5K time in a year.  I am proud of that, and am so thankful to everyone who has helped and encouraged me during the last year.  John especially.    

Finally, for all the cancer patients and survivors who are still fighting- many who are my blog readers- I think about you every time I run.  I think about my own battle with cancer, and how it pales in comparison to what so many others have to go through to fight and beat cancer.  It is humbling and inspiring.  It is why I started to run.  Over the course of the year, it helped me make the shift in my thinking from a cancer patient to a cancer survivor, and to focus on what I can do, not what I can’t.   

The Race for the Cure is where running started for me.  I will be marking my running years by this race.  I’m excited to see what this next year in running holds for me.

Categories
Cancer Health Running

Running to Defeat Cancer- A Year Later

A year ago, after recovering from thyroid cancer, I decided I wanted to support others who were fighting cancer.  I signed up for the Komen Denver Race for the Cure, supporting breast cancer.  I had never run in a race before, and didn’t particularly like running.  But I felt very thankful for the fast recovery I had from my own cancer, and figured it was the least I could do.  

My doctors told me it could be a year recovery before I’d even start to feel “back to normal” again.  My doctors warned me it was a very gradual upswing, and not to expect to feel better for a long time.  If you have followed my cancer journey on my blog, or know me in real life, you know that this was not the case for me.  As soon as I was on Synthroid, I felt the difference in hours.  To date, I still have not had to have one medication adjustment, which is almost unheard of.  My surgeon, who warned me of how hard the recovery was, and who has been treating thyroid cancer patients for 17 years, including his own wife, told me he had never seen someone recover as fast, with zero complications, like I have.  He told me I was a bit of a medical miracle. 

When I wrote my blog post last year, deciding I was going to run in the Race for the Cure, I was thankful I was doing so well.  A year later and a year wiser, I am more thankful and grateful than I can express.  I have no idea why I recovered so well. I am still in contact with a few people who had thyroid cancer surgeries the same time I did, and are still trying to get their thyroid replacement medication right, so they can start to feel back normal again. 

Running in this race last year was very healing for me.  I didn’t feel like I was a sick cancer patient, but I felt strong.  I felt like I was on the right path for recovery. I had no idea at the time if my recovery was going to “last” or if I would experience the problems and complications my doctors had warned me about.  It had been less than two months since I completed radioactive iodine therapy and had started on Synthroid.  But I was so optimistic I was able to train for this race and run in it. I had a lot of support and encouragement and I still remember while running it- for the first time, in a long time- I felt alive, well, and healthy.

I was hoping to finish the race in under 40 minutes, and finished in 36:25.  The race is self timed, and there are no official results.  But crossing that finish line was monumental for me.  I wasn’t sick with cancer anymore- I was a cancer survivor.  And that day, I became a runner.

I was hooked. I loved it.  I loved every second I was running the race. I loved the adrenaline, I loved the strategy, I loved I was smiling through the race, I loved pushing myself, I loved trying to pass the person ahead of me, and then trying to keep someone from passing me.  I loved the fact that I could actually do something as physically challenging as running.  I loved the fact that I was proving that cancer wasn’t going to define my life.  When it was over, I loved the fact that I had accomplished something just weeks ago, had seemed impossible. 

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I know now what I loved most about that race.  I moved from surviving cancer, to healing from cancer. Two very different mind sets.  I never looked back at being a cancer survivor- I started focusing on healing from cancer, and being the strongest person I could be- mentally and physically. So the Komen Dennver Race for the Cure means the world to me.  It put me on the path to heal from cancer.  It helps breast cancer patients who have to fight a much harder fight, for much longer than I ever did. 

I am running in the 5K again this year on October 3rd in Denver.  I am well trained for this race, and plan on going for my personal (unofficial) fastest 5K time.  I can’t think of a better 5K race where I would like to achieve a personal best.  But just to be there again- strong, healthy, able to run, and cancer free is a gift.  It’s a precious gift not everyone gets, and one that I am aware of every time I run.  So I am going to give it my all, and run it the strongest I can.  For myself and for all the cancer patients and survivors who can’t.

Last year I entered this race as a cancer survivor and ran.  This year I am entering this race as a runner, who happens to be a cancer survivor.  This is the spirit of the Komen Race for the Cure. I encourage all my readers to make a donation to the Race for the Cure, or better yet- sign up to walk or run in your local race.  You can find a list of races here. 

If you would like to make a donation in my name, to help raise money for breast cancer, you can click here.  Thank you!  🙂

Categories
Cancer Health Running

Second Place- A Year After Cancer

On July 22, I ran in my first competitive division race in Boulder. It was a 3K race sprint which was 1.87 miles.  It was definitely a different experience from what I am used to.  To start off, the race said it started at six, but there was a kid’s race, and then a downpour of rain with wind and lightning that delayed the race for about 20 minutes.  Then there was the non-competitive division race.  It was almost seven when it was time for my wave to run.

I actually lined up in the non-competitive division for a few minutes, before I realized that wasn’t my wave this time.  It was weird when the announcer said if you are an elite runner, make sure you aren’t lined up in that wave.  I don’t think of myself as an elite runner, and I had kind of a mental moment, where I was wondering if I should really be running in a competitive division.  I’ll admit for a few seconds, I thought about just running in the non-competitive division.  

But I told myself I had trained for this, and I was going to do it.  Walking out of the non-competitive wave, and waiting some more for the competitive female division was hard.  I trusted all of this on the work I had done.  The waiting around was difficult.  It allowed me too much time to keep thinking and second guessing myself.  Since the race was on a weekday in the early evening, no one I knew could make it to the race.  I’m pretty independent, but it was hard to wait around for that long by myself.  

I went and warmed up and tried to get myself into a better mental frame of mind.  When it was finally  time to line up, I felt good.  I felt like I belonged right where I was.  The only thing that was worrying me was the weather.  The sun had come out after the rain, but it was incredibly humid.  We don’t have much humidity in Colorado, and I have never trained in it.  I wasn’t sure if it would affect my running.

As the race started, I started off strong.  It was neat seeing so many people lined up in the streets watching.  They were cheering everyone on, and were shouting encouraging words at us.  I was able to run a good half mile in the six minute range, and then the humidity hit me.  I couldn’t breathe.  I couldn’t take in deep breaths.  I had to slow down, so I could breathe. 

There was a pretty steep hill we had to run up twice- the course was two loops.  After I ran up the hill the first time, I couldn’t breathe, and I felt so tired.  I wasn’t getting the oxygen I needed to run.  I felt like I was running in a steam room.  I slowed down a bit more, but it wasn’t helping.  I felt so frustrated, but knew I wasn’t going to be able to finish if I couldn’t breathe.  So I did something I have never done in a race before.  I stopped running and walked a few paces, breathing as deep as I could.  I probably didn’t walk more than five seconds, but it felt like an eternity.  A few people passed me, and I hated that.  But I decided even if I finished in last place,  I was going to finish. 

I started running again and right before I reached the half-way mark, there was a woman on the street clapping.  She looked right at me and told me I was doing great, and to keep going.  I waved at her, and for some reason, that really gave me a lift.  I had resigned myself to the fact that I wasn’t going to have my best time, or even place (which I was shooting for, but not expecting), so all I could do is run and finish.  I told myself running up the hill again, even if I was last, this was a competitive division and I had come so far in not even a year, to even be running in this race.

I started running downhill faster, and could see the finish line ahead. I could hear footsteps behind me, and I was determined to not let anyone else pass me.  The humidity was still a factor, and I was still struggling with the deeper breaths.  People were cheering and clapping and I just gave it my all as I saw the finish line get closer and closer.  When I finally crossed, the clock said 14:40.  I stopped my Garmin and it also said 14:40. 

I was surprised at the time.  It was a personal record for me running the distance outside.  I had run it faster in the air conditioned gym, with no hills on the treadmill, a few weeks before.  But this was 30 seconds faster than I had ever ran it outside.  There weren’t that many people behind me, and I knew I had finished towards the last quarter or so of people.  Even with having to walk, I has still achieved a personal best. 

I found some water dumped it over my head.  I was so hot and tired.  I was still trying to catch my breath.  Some of the other ladies I had run with were also talking about the humidity.  It seemed like it was a factor for a lot of people.   

I cooled down and then watched the men’s elite division run.  They were lightning fast. The announcer said there were a few Olympic runners running in this race and you could tell.  The first man hit the half way point just over 4 minutes!  It was fun watching them all finish, and the winning time was just under 9 minutes! 

I have a lot of respect for how hard everyone worked to finish this race- not just the competitive runners, but everyone.  It definitely is a hard distance when you are trying to run fast.  It tests you.  Under two miles doesn’t sound very far, but when you are running as fast as you can, and pushing yourself, your body hurts, your lungs hurt, and you have to dig down to keep strong. I have never wanted to quit a race, but I wanted to quit this one.  I remember telling myself after this race I was done running- this sucked!  I had to fight myself mentally to stay in it. 

When it was time leave, I walked by the announcer’s booth and he said the race results would be on-line the next day.  But I saw a few people with race result papers.  I walked over and asked if I could see the results.  The guy said they were the competitive results, and told him that was what I ran in.  He gave me the paper, and as I found my age group and my name, I was shocked.  It said I had finished in second place for my age group.  I looked at it again, and asked him if these were official results.  He said they were.  The 14:40 was the official time, and I placed second!

I still can’t really describe how I felt.  It seemed unreal- from where I was physically and health-wise a year ago- I was a cancer patient, to placing second in my first competitive division race, and getting personal best time too.  In Boulder of all places- a town known for its die-hard and excellent runners.

I went to a party afterwards my friend was having and she snapped this picture of me with my race number. I had good feeling when I saw the number.  🙂

I was on cloud nine for a few days afterwards.  I thought a lot about cancer, recovery, running, and all the support my family and friends have given me during this past year.  I thank all of you for that. 

And to all the cancer patients and survivors who read my blog, in that last quarter mile when I wanted to quit, I thought about all the e-mails I have received from you all.  I thought about how hard every cancer patient has to fight and how it changes our lives.  I thought about how inspired I am by your stories and how hard some of you have to fight.  One thing cancer patients know how to do is fight, and not quit.  I thought about how I would feel if I had to write on my blog I quit the race.  That provided me that extra motivation to keep running until I crossed that finish line. 

Running and cancer have taught me over the last year, when I am at my limit and feel like I can’t go another step or day, I can.   They have taught me the greatest rewards come from the hardest trials.  If you believe and are true to yourself, you will accomplish what you thought impossible.  And never give up.  Every step you run (or walk), is a step closer to the finish line, and every day you fight through cancer is another day you are closer to beating it, or a cure being found. 

This race was the hardest race I have ever ran in, but also the race where I had the greatest success.  I am very glad I challenged myself by running in it.  It will serve me well for my next running goal, which I am very excited for, and I will be writing about it in an upcoming post. 

Second place.  I still smile when I think about it.

Official Results
  
Time: 14:40
  
Division Place: 2nd 
 
Overall Place: 19th out of 24 finishers
  
Average Pace: 7:49
Categories
Cancer Health Running

Extreme Race Training- Part 2

My dad and I started off for Vail Saturday morning.  We got to the trail head for Gore Lake by late morning.  It was already 90+ degrees.  We were going to try to get about a mile away from the lake, spend the night, hike to the lake on Sunday morning, and then head back.  We both are pretty good hikers, so this didn’t seem overly ambitious.  My dad had hiked this before, and had done just fine.  Except it had been in the fall, when it had been much cooler.

The hike started out right away uphill- there was no shade, and there were a ton of rocks.  I could feel the heat from the rocks radiating back on to the trail- and on to us.  It felt like I was in an oven baking.  I’ve never weighed my backpack, but it is probably about 20-25 pounds.  My dad’s is heavier, and it seemed like after that first climb, we were both already tired.  In hindsight that should have been a clue- it was too hot.  Here is a picture of me with some wildflowers- about a mile into the hike.  It was one of the few places along the trail with shade.   

We kept hiking, and it just seemed to get hotter and hotter.  There was no breeze either.  The sun was so intense, and the air was hot, heavy, and humid.  I commented to my dad, it felt like we were in a jungle.  We had already drank our water, and we stopped so we could filter some more from the river.  We took off our backpacks, and my shirt was soaked.  It was like I had just taken it out of the washer. 

We drank some more water, and my dad said it wasn’t too much farther to a meadow where we could stop for the day.  There were not any other places to stop and camp- it was all pretty steep terrain, so we figured we could go until we got to the meadow.   

We hiked another mile- in the heat and sun, and there was no meadow.  I felt exhausted.  It was hard to think, and it was just so hot.  I told my dad the bike ride the day before had seemed easy compared to how I was feeling on this hike.  My dad said he was getting some cramps in his legs, and he couldn’t quite remember how much further it was to the meadow.  I had my dad drink the rest of the water we had until we could get close to the creek again.  My dad got the map out, and it looked like we were really close to where this meadow was supposed to be.  We had hiked 4 miles.  My dad said the cramps in his legs were going away, and now we had to find some more water, so we kept going.

We came out of the bend we were in, and below us was the creek, and what looked like some places where we could stop.  I told my dad I was done- I didn’t care about the meadow- I just wanted to stop for the day, and he agreed.  We hiked another half mile or so down, and stopped at the creek to get some more water.  I started shivering- even though it was still hot and sunny out.  I had just read about heat exhaustion, and remembered some of the symptoms were chills and muscle cramps.

We couldn’t seem to drink enough water, and we were dehydrated.  My dad decided to go scout around and see if there was any place we could camp- we were in a marshy grassy field- the ground was all swampy.  So I stayed with our gear and drank more water.  I was sitting with my shoes and socks off, my lightweight jacket on, shivering, but also very hot. I was also exhausted.  I was fighting not falling asleep.   It was the weirdest feeling.   Here’s a picture I took of the creek:

My dad returned half an hour later, and said he had found a great camping spot.  It was a quarter mile away, in trees-which meant shade.  It was right near the creek too, so we’d have water.  If could have ran, I would have but I suddenly felt beyond exhausted.  My chills had stopped though, and my dad didn’t have any more cramping.  We made it over to the campsite and it was gorgeous!  It overlooked the creek, and there was a small waterfall. 

We put up the tent, and drank some more water.  I told my dad I couldn’t keep my eyes open any more, and was going to lie down.  He said he was feeling better, and he’d get things organized.  I was asleep it seemed the moment I laid down.  I woke up an hour later, and we ate dinner. I was still exhausted and decided to go to bed.  I think it was around 8PM.  I haven’t gone to bed that early since I was a kid.

I woke up around 2AM, and got out of the tent and looked at the stars.  It was clear, cool, and with the sound of the creek right behind me, it was so pretty, calm, and peaceful.  I was feeling better, but knew we both had some heat exhaustion.   

We woke up early, ate breakfast, and started to pack up.  It was actually cool and it felt so nice after the previous day.  I took this picture of my dad:

We started back- right back into the sun which was already hot.  We didn’t make the same mistake twice though.  We stopped every 15 minutes and drank a little bit of water.  We passed a few hikers who had said it had been 104 in Denver the day before and it had reached 95 in Vail.  The sun is so much more intense at the altitude we were at- it was no wonder we had difficulties.

The last mile of the hike back was killer.  We had finished our water, and we were up too steep to get to the creek.  The first half mile was all up hill.  There was no shade at all, the sun was blazing, and it was all rocks to our side- holding and reflecting the heat back on us.  That last mile seemed like 10.  My shirt was dripping with sweat and the heat was so thick and heavy.  For a few minutes, I really wondered if I could keep going.  It was physically the hardest thing I have ever done, to keep putting my feet in front of each other to keep moving. 

I looked at my Garmin, which said we had about half a mile to go, and then the Garmin died.  I don’t really remember what happened next, except, we finally were off the trail, and made it back to the car!  I don’t think I have ever been so happy a backpacking trip was over.

My dad looked as exhausted as I felt.  We stopped and got some food, water, and some chocolate milk before driving back to Denver.  When we got back, we were both feeling much better, but still drained.  It took me until Tuesday night to really feel better. 

It was kind of nerve wracking how fast the heat exhaustion happened.  My dad and I are both pretty cautious hikers- we don’t take a lot of chances, but we clearly shouldn’t have hiked that far with it being so hot out.  I’m just glad we were near water most of the time and were able to recover quickly.  My dad said it best- the next time it is 90+ degrees in the mountains he’s not going hiking- he’s going to the pool. 

The last few days I have thought about my race, and the workouts I’ve done.  I won’t know until tonight if the heat exhaustion will factor into my running, but I don’t think it will.  If anything, I believe it has given me more confidence and a mental edge.

I was preparing for this race as being very difficult, but after this past week, it doesn’t seem like it will be as challenging.  I’ve trained extremely hard for this race.  I was talking to one of my friends this week about the race and training and he asked me why I push myself so hard.  During the bike ride up the hills, and on that God-awful hot hike, I kept thinking one thing: last year at this time, I was so sick some days I could not get out of bed.  I told my friend it is hard, but it is also a gift. I push myself because I can. 

Tonight I’m pushing myself with running.  Some people have told me I’m crazy (in a good way) for running a sprinting race in July in the heat!   🙂  But it reminds me I can.  When I line up at the start line, when I hit the half way mark, and when I cross the finish line, in my first competitve race, it’s because I can.