I know we say this every year but...WHAT A FUCKING YEAR. I could probably spend an inordinate amount of time navel gazing on the shit show of 2020, but I won't. It's all the same story for everyone, and I salute us all for making it through it with some sanity (Seriously, that was close).
This is also not a big oo-rah about 2021 and doing all the things. I'm not there yet. I'm eyeing 2021 with utter caution, defensive humor, and as much flexibility as I can. I'll keep ya posted on how that goes.
This post is about...running. And the long haul. I know, big shocker.
So....backstory. Three years ago, on January 1, 2018, I got out my cool dry erase marker and wrote a big "6" on my white board. As in, 6 miles I had run that year. With a big goal to run 2018 miles in 2018. Seven months later, the shit show of Ironman Lake Placid happened and I lost my mojo. I finished the year with a marathon, but fell short of my 2018 miles, landing around 1700 miles.
In 2019, I began the year with another big mark on the ole whiteboard. I finally joined Strava (I know, none of my runs prior to 2019 even counted), had a really amazing year for everything sport related , and around October, managed to sideline myself with a minor injury and then took a much suggested respite from running. End of year mileage = 1864.
Third times the charm, right? Again, this year, January 1. I ran a New Year's day race with my buddy the outlaw (it was hilly, which was a pretty decent foreshadow to the year!). After the race, I came home and proudly wrote "7.6" on my whiteboard. It was pointed out to me, amidst stifled laughs, that Strava AND Garmin AND Training Peaks recorded my mileage. Meh. Probably. But the simple act of updating my whiteboard after every run was both satisfying and ingrained as habit by this point, so low tech was how we went.
The beginning of the year saw some pretty wild stuff, in my naivete of what that meant back in February ….we sold our first home in Gananda that we had lived in for ten years, moved to Webster, and settled in to "where life was worth living" (Webster motto). I ticked off the miles as easily as one does at the beginning of a long term goal - slowly and steadily. I needed roughly 39 miles per week to achieve the goal, and I casually kept track via whiteboard.
Then, mid March hit. I don't think I need to say more, right?? Our first race of the season was cancelled, foreshadowing a year that none of us saw coming. We did a housewarming party and made our own race.
COVID hit. Big time. I remember doing a long run mid April with a sense of foreboding...only to come back and find out that my Ironman in August was cancelled. And with that, I knew the season was done. I spent a few weeks low key running and wallowing, and then, as I always do, came up with a plan B. Or.... several plan B's. With all of my summer races quickly following the same suit that my Ironman did, I turned to some challenges that I never would have.
Goggins. Or, running 4 miles every 4 hours for 48 hours. Ridiculous? Absolutely. But I found out a few things about myself that would come in really handy down the line. One, I'm consistent as hell when it comes to distance challenges. Two, I could still do hard things. I remember waking up at 1:40am, knowing I had to go out for my tenth run in 40 hours...off little sleep, and the simple act of putting on my shoes and repeating....You can do this. You can. And I did.
Sounds silly, but it got me through what was a really tough time....kids out of school....lock down....and such uncertainty. Through it all, there were my running shoes.
Summer came. I logged a nice amount of miles with my buddy Matt, and we spent many Friday afternoons laughing, eating cheese, drinking err....water, and talking about life. With the start of tri season....or um, not....I needed another thing to turn to. Enter in my friend Lauren, whose brother Brad was planning a crazy challenge by running 266 miles in 7 days to raise awareness for cystic fibrosis. I got to pace him on day 6 - that darkest day before the dawn. I drove down to Catt county at 6am one morning in July, not knowing anyone but "sorta" this guy, and ran 42 miles through the hilliest country I'd ever seen.
Over the course of 12 hours I made more friends than I ever have in a day, that, 6 months later, I am so thankful I've met. It reminded me of the intrinsic joy of running as we joked through the countryside, running for such a wonderful cause.
Halfway through the year and spot on to make my 2020 goal. The rest of the summer was full of riding bikes with the juicy tri fam, running solo and with friends, with no races whatsoever planned.
I had joined a virtual challenge to race across Tennessee - 1000k in 3 months. This aligned perfectly with my run mileage goals, supported a great cause through a local food bank, and was orchestrated by the great Laz Lake, who RD's the most ridiculous race in the world I'd love to do someday - the Barkley Marathons. I crossed the "finish" line for the race on August 8th, my 11th wedding anniversary with my favorite partner in crime, my husband, who started me in the world of multi sport and running, and remains my biggest supporter for any crazy idea I think of.
Speaking of crazy ideas....next up was a half ironman, signed up for one week before race day. It featured a ridiculous elevation gain, a fun rainstorm, and a bike I was totally un prepared for. (Thanks Outlaw...no, really, I mean it). The opportunity to do dumb, crazy things still existed in 2020, and thank goodness for that! With summer over and four months to go, I was still roughly on point to make my goal.
September came. And 2020 reminded me why it was in charge. Amidst the somewhat carefree living of the summer, with social distancing in place but a nice "bubble", reality came back full force. One of our family members got COVID. Despite the risk factors, they managed to stay out of the hospital, and we breathed a sigh of relief. With doing the right thing in mind, our family got tested. Greg and the kids did not contract it.
I did.
I told very few people about it at the time, as there was a huge stigma about anyone that contracted it and their life choices. This is not the post to ruminate on it, and I won't, but there wasn't a single way that we wouldn't have been exposed to this person so hindsight...well, you know.
Honestly? I never would have guessed that I had it. The flu was much worse. I was tired and run down and working 12 hour days at the time. The emotional and mental fall out was much worse than any symptoms I had. Every system we dealt with was fraught with inconsistency and contradictions, and it was a tough 14 days. Physically, I had a cough and was tired....for about 48 hours, and that was it. Two days post positive diagnosis, I felt pretty darn good and picked up running. The last 8 days of my quarantine, I logged 44 miles on the treadmill (the only indoor miles of my entire year, I might add). That first day outta quarantine...I grabbed my running shoes and ran out the door as quick as my little legs would take me!!
Post COVID, I kept it low key for a month or so, as I noticed my lungs were a bit weaker. Slow runs didn't bother me, but anything under a nine minute mile was a chore. I also entered a funk - I was down about the world, some of the reactions I saw in people I thought were my friends/acquaintances, and a general malaise.
I signed up for the EVL half maraton, thinking it would dig me out. It didn't. I finished the race in a respectable time - especially six weeks out from COVID! - which very few people knew. But I was grumpy. I killed running or a full week and waited until I was ready to go again.
November 1. 360 miles to go. I started up the run again and my spirits lifted. I took every run in November with intent and took the time to run slow, remember why I loved it, and to look forward to the simple joy of running. I signed up for a really low key half marathon and came in third female - and loved every. single. step. And.... I was back!!
With one month to go....there was a big push. My step back in October had cost me, and I had 245 miles to go. At this point, I backed off my training plan for Ironman 2021 prep, and took the last three weeks of the challenge simply by listening to my body. I knew how many miles a day I needed to do (7ish) and opted to run between 4 and 10 miles every day, at a really easy pace, and with eyes forward and the gratefulness to be able to do this.
One of my new ultra buddies, Josh, tracked my progress and offered daily support (I love new running friends in the community!) My coach, who understood my need to finish this one on my timetable, offered unfailing support, as he always does. And my husband.... gave me the space to do every run, listened to every wind down, ran some miles with me, and was literally my rock when I doubted myself. I am so friggin lucky.
There were hard days. Days when I wasn't sure I wanted to run. I practiced daily recovery with foam rolling, recovery boots, Epsom salt baths, and plenty of carbs (that last part was so tough....hah!).
Bit by bit, I went down from three digits left...two digits...and then on New Year's Eve... a lucky 7 miles remained. I set out mid morning for the final run. I had no route in mind, but found myself following the route I run with my husband. Turning on to the road that I had run that summer with the outlaw. On to the trail that I had run that spring so many times with Matt. and down the road that my coach had took me on during our first run together in Webster. At mile five I ran past a familiar looking figure....it was the girl that always steals my Crowns on Strava by biking them and logging them as runs. I started to laugh, thinking it would have been incredibly appropriate if she was out biking, but alas, she was running. With one mile to go, there was a full force headwind, which was really pretty fitting for the year. I finished 2020 by running against the wind....running down a dream that was three years in the making.
I stopped my watch, 2020 miles done in 2020. I grinned, walked to cool down a bit, and then hit that start button again and ran my fastest mile of the year (6:42). Because...why would I stop at 2020? And with that, I concluded, was the right way to kick off the new year!!
What will 2021 bring? Who knows. And that's a post for another day. But after three years, I FINALLY ran the year. Success is just as sweet even during a pandemic....maybe even more so!
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