Being strong in the midst of troubles

My husband has been out of work since March. While for some, having a husband who is the provider becoming unemployed all of a sudden would be a nightmare. It has been a big blessing, on the whole family.

We instantly moved out of CA in April of 2013 and we went home to Oregon. While living in CA for 2 years there were good times and bad. I liked all the people that I met at church and the Crossfit gym there. Crossfit came in my life at a time that I needed it the most, in my most depressed state; The experience that I learned from being terribly depressed changed me for the better in the long run. Depression is ugly; I chose to run my first 100 and succeeded; The newspaper in Crescent City published a 1 page story on me after I ran the 100; My experience with Alvin the bear; The many up close encounters with Elk. But in the end after so many prayers, it was time to leave.

We have been just fine financially. We had built up enough of a savings and with the help of family and of course a good unemployment check, we have been okay. We have food, mortgage is paid for, and I’ve done a few races. Although some races did get cut for me and sacrifices had to be made for everyone.

Tragedy struck for me mostly when I got back, one after the other, I was hit with one bad thing after the other. When it seemed like one trouble was the worst ever, something else happened on top of that. The worst being my father dying and watching him die. I cried many times. The tragedy with my dad hurt all of us, the whole family, but brought us closer. While some things haven't been the same, they will go back to normal. I have faith in that. Family really is the most important part of life.

My faith in my now "silent" God was questioned but I'm beginning to understand why. Sometimes the answer of no is for a very good reason. Bigger plans, better plans are in store. I've survived it all and I'm getting stronger every single day and things are really looking up. He'll get a job, I'll be able to go back to school, the kids are going to be okay, our marriage is fine, and we have survived so much all ready in our marriage, now 11 years.

I told my mom in my dad's hospital room that she was the strongest person I knew. She was surprised, but it sank in. I'm like her. I'm strong, just young and have a lot to learn.

Be strong in your own struggles, there will be a light soon enough.

Running Siskiyou Out Back 50 July 27th, 2013

Took a risk, paid off, the hard way. Of course I finished. 2 50's in 2 weeks. The course had brutal hills lasting 2, 3, 7 miles. The 3 was at the turn around, went up a steep cliff (STEEP-where's the rope?) took one look the view and said "oh hurray" and down I went. Lots of walking today. 1 blister and it popped, hates the Epsom salts. In the morning, dropped my drop bag off at the wrong location, didn't see it the whole race. That's how tired I was. I felt a bit dizzy between mile 40-45, said nothing. New friends met. They gave me 3 tacos, but had them wrap it and I'm eating my normal comfort food, Raviolis out of can. 13 hour total cut off, cutting it close there. Good aid-stations, didn't miss my bag, well the other 5 hour energy drink for 2 PM I missed.

One of the views

My finisher's cup, the green one.

Running the Mt. Hood 50, 2013. Qualifying for States.

"My Lucky Banana"

I ran the Mt. Hood 50 this weekend. It was my 3rd time running it and my 5th 50 miler.

I started and ended very strong. So do I thank my hard work with my training; my Crossfit, making me stronger overall; the Udo's oil that I started taking a few weeks ago; or the rest that I gave myself (tapering); or all of the above? I mean, come mile 40+ I felt fresh, strong, and great. My feet were another story. Towards the end, they were a bit achy. The blister that I got on May 11^th from a 50K, that was almost gone, I could tell, was back.

I had the goal going into the race that I was going to qualify for Western States using this 50. This meant that I had to come in under 11 hours!  The first year that I ran this race in 2011, I came in at 11:59:49. The 2nd year, 2012, I came in at 11:28:32. So could I pull off another PR of 29 minutes to get under 11 hours? Well, I was going to try.

I made up a pace chart for myself when I left the house. The pace chart would have me come in at 4:20 with 10 minutes to spare. I did the early start, 5:30.

I worked hard the whole entire race. Funny story, I lost the pace chart. I knew that I had lost it prior to the 6 mile aid station. I thought it was a sign that I should just run and not worry about qualifying. I only knew I was on track with that first aid-station. I just did my best, which was my new goal. The course had a 28.4 mile out back and then a 22. Just prior to reaching the first turn around to go back in to the start/finish, all the fast kids start flying by me and I got out of the way. But what, what is this? A dog was on the course and following them? Somehow the dog that I saw at the start was now on the course at mile 14! Good thing those aid station workers took in and took it back.

On the way to the start/finish or mile 28.4, I found my pace chart at about mile 27. I found out coming in to the mile 28.4 aid station that I was 48 minutes early from what it said on the chart! I was doing great! I was so happy.

The course had so many things in the path just dying to trip me...rocks, roots and twigs. It seemed worse this year then the years prior and oh, did I trip! I tripped a lot! I never fell, but I tripped so much and I was losing confidence. Every time I tripped, I hurt my shoulder and it was getting achy. Come mile 48, really not cool.

I remember at the mile 33.7 aid station, I saw a friend, Bret Henry helping. I told him that I was hoping to come in under 11 hours to qualify for states. But I said to him "F states, there are so many other races that are just as good that will let me in just because I paid." Off I went, down the massive 2 mile hill. (I have to come back up this keep in mind. The footing was annoying. I swear everything wanted to trip me and it was hard to eat because I would trip more!

I got to the 39.2 mile aid station basically starving. I ate a bit, stuffed my pockets with everything and left. So up this massive 2 mile hill, which I figured was killing my time. I'm a slow walker and I really need to work on this. The hill did kill my goal time. There was a down tree on the course and one lying on top of it that was smaller and I had to climb up and over it and I was wondering where it was. I couldn't remember! I thought it was on the 2 mile hill.

I was about 15 or so minutes late coming in to the final aid station at mile 44.7. However, I had 4.7 miles to go and an hour to go to make it in less than 11 hours! I had hope! I grabbed a whole banana from the aid station table and I started running. I had a lot to give still, legs were great! Oh, I ran and I was running fast (for me). I saw a pace of 8, 9 on my watch. 11, 12 sometimes, which I said to myself “hurry up!” I heard my 100 miler finisher friend's voice in my head from Crescent City, CA. He told me prior to running my first 100, "now Jeannie, you have to fight for it!" I was fighting for this. I was talking to myself, "I'm fighting for it Ralph, I am!" I ran my ass off. I was praying that I would not trip and fall. Where is that fallen tree? Oh my! There it is, I practically leaped over it! “Don't kill my time tree!” I saw a runner up ahead, he was walking. He said, "I'm trying to run again." I said to him, "You can do it!" Moments later as I booking it, I hear him right behind me, for awhile and then I don't hear him. I then trip and I trip hard, but I didn't fall (at mile 4.50). I heard him ask me if I was alright. I lift my hands up, "I made it!" Several times, I thought about tossing that banana, but never did. I was thinking that it was lucky! It was my lucky banana. I see a family up ahead, I knew I was almost there; I had 5 minutes to get in. I said "excuse me; I'm trying to come in by 4:30. They get out of the way and the man says, "Go, go, go, you can do this!!" Faster, faster. I hit the pavement and sprint harder. I come in and get this, at 10:59:10. I had 50 seconds to spare. Talk about close. But, I did it! I won't be calling myself slow anymore. I qualified for states not with a 100 miler, but with a 50.

I have less than two weeks to heal up and do this all over again. I'm running the Siskiyou Out Back 50 on July 27th. My goal will be different for this race. It's all in preparation for my 2nd 100 miler, Mountain Lakes 100 in September.

When I got home, I put my lucky banana in a smoothie and drank it. It was delicious.

Eulogy to my father

It is very difficult for me to be standing up here today. There are no words to describe the pain that I feel for the loss of my father. The experience has been extremely hard.

I loved my father very much. My nickname for him was Bubba. He was my buddy. I have many fond memories of spending time with him. He was a wonderful father and I couldn’t ask for a better dad. 

On August 23rd 2009, my family got together at a park in West Linn to celebrate my Father’s birthday. I had a nice, long conversation with him. We talked about the kids, running, how things were going. That was my very last conversation with my dad. 2 weeks later, my dad suffered his first stroke and he just was never the same. It was difficult to have a 2 way conversation. For 3 ½ years, I longed to have another conversation with him. I missed it deeply and I would have done anything to have another heart to heart. 

January of 2011, my family moved to Crescent City, Ca. We lived there for 2 years. It was hard being away from my family, I missed them very much. I was very concerned for my dad. I didn’t like being so far away. We moved back to Oregon last month on April 13th.    On April 28^th, the day before my father’s stroke, a lot of the family got together. I was able to give my dad a hug and spend a little time with him………… My father wanted to be helpful since his first stroke 3 ½ years ago. He really liked mowing the lawn; he did it nearly every day. He was almost obsessed with the lawn mower. So, as I was sitting at the kitchen table with my family on April 28th, my dad comes over and shows me a Wal-Mart ad. He was trying to talk to me about the lawn mowers that were for sale. I think he wanted ME to buy him another one.

From the time of my father’s stroke, I stayed with my dad for many hours each day prior to his passing. I never wanted to leave his side. I held his hand, his arm, I spoke to him, told him I loved him many times. I felt that I needed to be there as much as possible. I felt as if I was protecting him like he did for me growing up.

My father held me on the day that I was born and although it was extremely hard to witness, on May 2^nd, I held my dad as he took his last breath. My…..…. heart.….….broke. 

I take comfort in knowing that my dad is up in heaven with Jesus, he is in better hands now. I’m sure he is mowing lawns and looking down at all of us with love. I take with me my many memories, his love for running and swimming. 

Dad, I will smile whenever I hear your name and be proud you were my Dad.

I hate goodbyes, they are too painful. I don’t want to say goodbye. So I say, till the day we meet again. It’s not a good-bye, but see you later.

I love you Dad

Dad and I

with our dog Sam

Siblings and Dad, I'm the youngest. Sister and I have on matching outfits

Dad and a child

Young dad

My dad and I

Dad and his mom

At his 70th

Young dad

Recovering from my first 100

Recovering from my first 100 is certainly a lot different than when I recovered from my other smaller distances, including the 50. It’s been 3 weeks and I’m still in recovery mode.

It actually took quite awhile to acknowledge that I just had a huge victory, I ran a 100 mile race, I actually accomplished what I set out to do. Sitting in the airport, my husband was wearing his Javelina shirt that he purchased. I remember staring at the shirt and the only emotion I felt was thinking, "I just ran that" It wasn't until 4 days after the race when the impact of finishing started to set in.  I went and re-read all the wonderful comments that people wrote on my FB wall and I was filled with emotion. I had initially read all the comments, but the second time around, when I had snapped out of it was bitter sweet. It was then that I wrote in my blog and had the interview with the sports editor from my town, a story about to be published. I also wrote up for my own personal memories "Javelina Memoirs" Javelina is my first 100 and I don't want to ever forget how I felt and the memories from the race. I try and explain all the physical challenges that I experienced at the race and how hard it was to overcome my obstacles. I remember hearing my friend’s voice in my head. He told me prior to leaving for the race, “now Jeannie, it’s going to get tough and you will want to quit, but you have to fight for it.”

The physical recovery was challenging. The first few days were the roughest. My right leg and knee was very swollen, yet the left leg wasn't as bad. It would take about 10 minutes to get up and walk to the bathroom. It hurt horribly bad and I was taking more than suggested on the bottle of Naproxen and Tylenol, it was rough. I experienced some dizziness and some headaches. I thought for sure that my period was going to come late, but it wasn’t, however it didn’t know when to quit, constantly spotting. I was also extremely tired for the first week, needing some kind of nap each day. After a week, I quit taking naps, but was still tired. I was starving for about a week and drank a lot of water.  Today, my feet are still peeling, blisters are peeling and I feel like a snake.

I ran 6 days after the 100, just 2 miles and it was uncomfortable. I kept the mileage short for quite awhile due to aches and pains, but I knew there was nothing seriously injured. I started training my oldest daughter to run and we kept it at 2 miles, sometimes I would head out again and I would run when the kids were in school.

Now, since I no longer have any aches and pains as of the 13th of November, I am increasing my mileage slowly. 10 miles is currently the most I've run since Javelina, a few days ago and I was back up on the trail for the first time since before the race.   I plan on running 4-5 days a week, keeping the back to back long runs. I have also started swimming again, once a week and I will start Crossfit again on the 26th, looking forward to it. 

So what is next? Initially, I had the normal reaction, "this is stupid, what is the point?" However, that feeling has gone away and I really like 100's, the distance is extremely challenging and a lot of fun.  I'm still deciding on which 100 to do for 2013 and there may be two scheduled. I have entered a few lotteries, so I'll see if I get into those. The 100 (s) I choose will determine all my other races of smaller amounts.

One last thing, when I was walking out of the parking lot after Javelina, a man stopped me and simply said, "Welcome to the club!"

Why running 100 miles is not crazy

“I can do anything I set my mind to and absolutely nothing will get in my way of achieving that goal.” This quote is rooted deep within me. I truly believe in it.

Recently I ran my first 100 miles, Javelina Jundred. Running Javelina has become the greatest physical and mental accomplishment that I have encountered. I ran it in 29:07. I faced swelling, blisters, exhaustion, dizziness, nausea, diarrhea, pain and doubt. I ran through the night, never sleeping, only sitting to use the restroom, only stopping at the aid stations and it was brief. I also found out what I am made of and found that I’m strong. The longest distance prior to Javelina was 50. I wanted to quit at mile 62, when it hurt, when it was cold, when I was offered a 100K belt buckle, tempting. Yet, I pushed doubt and fear away and continued on for another 39 miles (Javelina is 101.40 miles). I pushed myself past the point of pure exhaustion to accomplish a dream that I had for over a year. I told any physical and mental pain where to shove it to make this dream come true. I just kept on visualizing my success, so walking away from the aid stations was easy.  

Running 100 miles was a dream of mine that I saw months out, a dream that I put a date on and one that I trained with extreme enthusiasm, even on days that I did not want to. Even during the weeks when I got injured and was worried about a successful recovery in time to run the race.

Running 100 miles takes a lot of belief in yourself. I saw myself finishing the race the day that I made the decision to run Javelina and this belief in myself continued all the way up to the finish line. I never let doubt or fear control me.

When I was training for it and after, I was constantly told how crazy I am, in one form of another. It seemed these people that took little jabs at me really were being critical, instead of realizing the amazing feat that I participated in. “You’re crazy easily poured off their lips.”

Crazy? I don’t think so. Crazy is never fulfilling a dream. Crazy is not taking action. The majority of the population merely thinks about their goals and dreams and does not take action, only to feel regret later on.  The majority of the population only wishes and some even criticize others, even if they say they are only joking. It’s not funny. I don’t think unfilled dreams are funny. I think it is sad.

I am extremely proud of myself. I just did something that is extremely rare. How many can say they’ve run a 100 miles? I am excited about where my running will take me over the next few years. Not only with my own accomplishments, but in helping others reach their potential and fulfill their own dreams.

So look at yourself in the mirror and ask yourself if you are indeed fulfilling a dream that you’ve always wanted to accomplish?

NORMAL IS BORING. DARE TO BE DIFFERENT!

“Keep your dreams alive. Understand to achieve anything requires faith and belief in yourself, vision, hard work, determination, and dedication. Remember all things are possible for those who believe.” - Gail Devers

Other tips on fulfilling a dream:
http://www.becomingminimalist.com/how-to-fulfill-dreams-thoughts-on-an-ebooks-anniversary/

Javelina Jundred. My first 100.

There are 6, 15.4 mile loops. The course is on the Pemberton Trail in the McDowell Mountains in Fountain Hills, Arizona. It is single track and jeep track. The course was comprised of a nice smooth dusty trail, followed by some sand, followed by tripable rocks and hills. In the evening the full moon would come out and would provide some light. For each loop, you go a new direction. For the first loop, we went clockwise. Then counter clockwise for the 2^nd and so on. The 7^th loop is special as you get a glow stick necklace and you go out 4.5 miles on the normal course, than get to take a right turn onto a new trail to get to the finish.  The course has an elevation gain of 800 feet for 15.4 miles, so it is fairly flat.

First 3 loops. The first loop, I had my costume on. The race stared in the dark, although that really did not last very long, I could see within the first 20 minutes. I got to check out the course with fresh legs. I tried to keep it at a 12 min pace, which is slow for me. It was hard at times, especially on the downhill sections. I did what everyone advised and walked the uphills. It was a fun loop; I got to see everyone’s costumes. There was a lot of excitement on the course. I enjoyed seeing the other runners as we passed.  I often chatted with people briefly; they all told me that I was doing very well for my first time. I remember chatting with one man. He asked me about my kids and asked which one I liked better, I responded, “the one who is being good at the moment and that always changes.  I noticed during the 3^rd loop that my voice was starting to sound a bit hoarse; I thought I was going to lose it, but never did.The heat never bothered me.

My costume. I changed after the first loop, it was getting hot.

During the 4^th loop, it got hard. I was headed towards 62 miles, 12 more than I’ve ever gone before. I was still running, even as night started.  I had my headlamp on and had one of my knuckle lights. I had a long visit at one of the aid stations as I really had to go to the bathroom. I stayed at the aid station for about 9 minutes, but I needed to.  I was running on a rocky section when a blister on my toe broke open. My initial thought was, “oh no, I’m doing so well, is this the end?” I sat down, took off my shoe and sock, got out one of my earrings and opened up the blister more, then sprayed on New Skin, all the while being completely annoyed by a moth. I guy came by and asked if I was alright. I got up and it hurt initially, but the pain subsided and on I went. I next remember being on a flat section, running slowly, eating a Powerbar when I heard a group of coyotes and so wish that I had my pepper spray with me. I thought they sounded so close. I quickly put the Powerbar away and ran faster to catch up with a man walking ahead of me. He said “no worries, they won’t eat you.” I still ran away quickly. When I came into the headquarters, I was absolutely exhausted and I really wanted to quit. It hurt, it was dark and scary. But, I remember something a woman told me previously, she said “when you’re finished with the 4^th loop, it is very tempting to quit and get the 100K belt buckle. Don’t, just take a few steps and get out of there.” She was right, it was hard. I ended up getting a pacer for the 5^th loop. She was supposed to have paced a faster woman who ended up calling it quits after 77 miles, so she was free to help me.

5^th loop. Headed towards mile 77. My pacer and I ran a little bit at first and we got along very well. She told me about her, I did the same. She told me about Arizona and the different cactuses and species of animals. After awhile, I was feeling nauseated and quit talking so much and started walking. I never really ever ran again, it hurt too much. My pacer reminded me to drink, considering that I was barely eating. Absolutely nothing sounded appetizing to me. I forced myself to gummy bears, cookies, candy, broth. All gross. The one thing my pacer did that probably shouldn’t have happened, was reminding me that I still had to finish the loop with her, go out again, then out a final 9. Ughhh!!! That played with me mentally. The only thing that I kept telling myself was to just leave the headquarters and go out for a final 6, just leave. It was during this loop that my Garmin died, so I got out my older one. I stopped talking and just followed her to the headquarters. She’d walk a good pace, which challenged me in a good way. She was probably my favorite pacer.

Loop 6, heading towards mile 92. My original pacer had to go, so I got two new ones, a man and a woman. I told them that I really did not feel like talking, so they talked a lot. I told them my story a little. The man told the whole story of those Twilight books and movies from beginning to end and I corrected him during spots he got it wrong. I’ve never met a man who knew the Twilight story as well as he. The girl would always tell me when there was a big log or rock so that I wouldn’t trip. At times I held on to one of them when it was steep and rocky. They were the ones who however kept tripping, she even fell once. It was nice to have someone there and I mean with all my pacers, just the company. That 6^th loop especially was very dark and the crowd had drastically thinned as we were nearing the daylight hours. The only time that I ran during the 6^th loop was when it was light and it lasted for about a mile and at a decent speed. Other than that, I did not have it in me. I could tell that my teeth were very sensitive; the sugar from the gummy bears hurt my teeth. During this loop, I really only took a bit of something when my stomach growled. I just drank.

Coming in for the final loop

Loop 7. Finishing. My husband wanted to pace me this time, so okay. He can walk 9 miles. I leaned on him a lot and I mean literally, down the hills, around the rocks. I was breathing heavy and everything sucked. I barely said a word. I had felt like I was in some kind of major battle, just trying to survive. Everything hurt, even my lips were badly chapped and I had been putting chap stick on all day. I think my Garmin was not registering right, which played with my emotions. I kept looking for that final turn and it took forever to get to or so it seemed. I cried a little because I was upset how long that final loop was taking to get here.  Finally it came; I filled up my water bottle, trying not to get stung by the many bees swarming around the aid station. The length of this trail was 3 miles, and then it turned to go back to the finishing line. I had to walk, I couldn’t run. I remember my husband telling me he was feeling chills and I noticed that he did not have that much water with him. So I lectured him about what it takes to be a good pacer, which means taking care of himself. But, I will point out. He stayed at the course the whole entire time. Every time that I came in, he was there. He only had 1 hour nap. He even helped out at the aid station. He was very supportive. The last 2 miles is when I started crying, I couldn’t believe that I was actually going to finish this thing.

The finish.  It was absolutely incredible. I did not have a big crazy finish; I ran a little bit in and smiled. I was just so relieved to be done.  I got my picture taken, got my belt buckle and sat down.

My finishing photo

In writing this, it has been 3 days. My blisters are healing. My leg swelling is finally starting to come down. I was able to take a shower standing up for the first time. I am very tired and have a big appetite still.

364 people started the race. I placed 141 out of 160, 100 miler finishers. My time was 29:07:45.

Other photos. Checking out the course the day prior.

Taken just before the race, I was so cold.