It’s July 5th, and I’ve got Sinister 7 on my mind. In just four days at this time I will be shuffling along the trails of Crowsnest pass, dreaming of burgers, cold showers and sweatpants. I can’t wait.
I write to you from my hotel room in Anchorage, Alaska, during a work trip for a major project deployment set to occur three days after Sinister 7, for which I am the Project Manager and basically the person that needs to not screw it up. As the timeline for this project solidified itself, I was nervous and hesitant as to how this might affect my race. I was worried that the stress and workload from the “crunch time” of the project would interfere with my pre-race focus, but I must admit, it has developed an almost-ideal taper situation. Here’s how:
- The weather has been absolute shit
I’ve been in Anchorage for 6 days and as of this morning, I can finally confirm that the sky here is, in fact, also blue. The sky has been so overcast and socked in since I’ve arrived that it has not ignited the same motivation and drive to get outside and climb a mountain that I would have had should I have been at home in Banff the last week. According to the FUCKING MILLION of fomo-inducing posts I have seen from friends in the Bow Valley celebrating Canada 150, the inaugural Bow Valley Dirtbags Beer Mile, and the hottest week of summer, I don’t think I would be very successful at “laying low” should I have been at home. I will be traveling to Alaska several times this summer and I am really looking forward to adventuring-the-heck out of my share of mountains out here, but if the weather had to be a suckfest, I’m glad it was this week.
2. I don’t have to be an adult
I’ve put in some of my biggest mileage weeks ever this year. I don’t want this to come off the wrong way, but running 80, 90 or 100+km weeks is not that hard, if you’ve trained and built up to it. Not because it’s not an achievement or because it doesn’t take hard work, but because it’s fun, and if you are running that much in the first place, you obviously love running and spending time pushing yourself physically in the mountains. You know what is hard? Running 80, 90, 100+km weeks and trying to maintain a (stressful) 40+ hour per week job, feed yourself properly, sleep enough, maintain a social life, stretch, answer texts, maintain human contact, wash your hair, bathe regularly, remember to pay your bills, do your dishes and laundry and not self-implode. Not to mention, how in the flying hell do you people with children do it?
None of the above-mentioned responsibilities on their own are overly stressful, but I certainly always underestimate the compounding time requirements that result from each additional mile run each week. The more you run the more you need to invest in the efforts and activities that may not give the same instant gratification as running does, but that are critical to supporting your ability to run. Things like stretching and mobility work, thoughtful eating, sufficient sleep and JESUS CHRIST: the increased laundry load full of radioactively stinky running clothes that you produce each week.
Removing many of those factors while I’m away for work, its incredible how the stress melts away, as I’m staying in a hotel and expensing all of my meals. Not having to do dishes, laundry, cook or maintain a household feels like a true break from adulthood and makes me appreciate how much mental bandwidth this usually eats up each week.
3. I am super lonely
I am, but it’s okay. I am traveling alone without other coworkers and I don’t know anyone in the area. I’ve eaten every meal alone since I’ve arrived and I spend way more hours in solitude that I typically do, but it’s just what I needed this past week. I am constantly thinking about and mentally focusing on what I need to do to prepare for Sinister 7, and it’s a really refreshing feeling. I miss my boyfriend immensely, as well as the interaction with my coworkers and OF COURSE the many trail buddies I usually see each week in the Bow Valley, but its nice to have no “distractions”.
4. I had to organize myself 9 days in advance
I will not go home before Sinister 7. I fly back to Calgary late Thursday night, so I’ll stay in the city and head right to Blairmore on Friday, so I had to think ahead and pack everything (and anything) I could need in advance. No matter how hard I try, I always seem to end up “finalizing race details” late into the night before, so it feels nice to have everything I need sorted already. I do still need to create my drop bags and grab some snacks, and I will be able to make an emergency MEC trip on Friday should I need, but the majority of the thinking and effort is done.
All in all, I would say I have been forced into a very successful taper situation. I actually feel like I’m in a running rehab center for runners who lack the self-control to SLOW THE FUCK DOWN AND REST, removed from the stresses of everyday life and the temptation of accessible trails and irresistible weather. Perhaps someone should take this idea more seriously and consider it as a legitimate business venture. What if there was a “Taper Camp” that you could send runners to the week before a big race? They would be locked in a comfy hotel room, fitted with an electrical shock collar should they try and run more than XX miles and overloaded with netflix and carbohydrates. Should anyone choose to take this idea and “run” with it, I only ask that you call it “The Liz Halleran Center for Runners Who Can’t Taper Good”.
Seriously though, for Sinister 7, I am undeniably nervous, but extremely excited. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a first, and my relationship with racing has become rather stale as of late. This occurred to me last weekend, as I executed my pre-race “routine” in the hours leading up to Rundle’s Revenge 50km. In truth, there was no routine. Rather than approaching the race with the enthusiasm and delicate preparation that typically precedes a first date, I felt more of a sense of indifference, a faded spark. If the race represented a long-term relationship, I think I realized I was at the theoretical point where sweatpants are appropriate attire for a date, shaving your legs is a thing of the past and farting is an appropriate response in conversation. Romantic. I mean, not that I would ever do any of those things.
Let me paint the picture for you.
The morning of Rundle’s Revenge 50km rolled around. It was an 8am start, which meant a 7:15am package pickup, which translated to a 6am wake up in Banff. That would be a good amount of time to wake up, get a solid meal into me, organize some nutrition options for my pack and swing by Tim’s before hitting the road for Canmore. Really though, 6am turned into 6:15 turned into 6:20 turned into 6:30. I rolled out of bed, and lazily grabbed the nearest pair of shorts, t-shirt and sports bra I could find. These turned out to be the dirty running clothes I had worn the day before while accompanying Stef and Alice up EEOR, clothing which had spent the last 18 hours crumpled up in ball on the floor. Mmm, potent. Hopefully Piotr won’t smell me when I pick him up on the way to the race, I thought. I stuffed some sour patch kids and waffles into my pack and grabbed my new La Sportivas (which had approximately 6km on them, but hey! Should be fine to break them in) and off I went, briefly stopping to try and turn my birds nest of hair into a braid without having to take the time to actually brush it (success).
Coffee, I thought. And oh yeah, I should probably eat! A quick detour to Tim’s where I replied with my usual “Nope!” to the cashier’s question of “Can I get anything else for you?” and almost left before I switched my answer to “Oh shit yes!” when I realized for the second time in the 20 minutes that I had been awake, that I was failing to consider the fact that if I was planning to go run for 5-6 hours, I better damned-well eat. I scarfed down my buttered bagel and ate only the icing part of my donut on the drive to Canmore where I picked up Piotr and he judged me for my Timmie’s pre-race nutrition as we headed up to the Nordic Centre. Piotr had a present for me, a pair of Swiftwick socks that were too small for him, and thus free for me! “Sweet! I was hoping you’d bring these because I am not wearing good race socks right now!” I thanked him.
The race went great , aside from the stabbing-stabby-stab pain in my left foot that was lingering from the previous week, (which I later found out was some sort of compressed nerve/ morton’s neuroma situation). I was even able to keep that at bay by stopping every half hour to take off my shoe and wiggle my toes, and I more or less ignored it. I had a great plan for this course, which I had found to be a mental suffer-fest last year as it involved doing the same loop four times, with two opportunities per loop to drop out or quit, should I be so inclined. I think expecting it to be mentally challenging, combined with the fact that I’ve been doing a lot of workouts that include stupid repeats of Tunnel or Sulphur mountain, this actually did not phase me one bit. I made a smart plan to run the first lap comfortably, and set the standard for the other three laps. Whatever sections I walked or hiked the first lap, that’s all that I would be allowed to walk or hike for the additional laps. I let myself go on the downhills and flats, but thinking about whether I would want to run certain sections on future laps before agreeing to run them during the first one helped me save some juice.
When I walk or hike, I feel like I am failing. My brain thinks I should be able to run all of the hills and when I don’t, I consequently think that I suck. But with my plan in place, the suck did not overtake me. Instead of feeling like a cop-out, it felt like I was sticking to my plan and doing what I was supposed to. As I came in to finish Lap 2, the announcer mentioned I was in 3rd place. I wasn’t exactly sure if he meant third place in the Open Women (39 and under) or 40+ division, or overall, or what, but it definitely put a little pressure on to either maintain my position or try and push ahead. I wouldn’t say that Rundles Revenge 50km is an overly competitive race and because of how few women were actually running, it didn’t feel like an overly lucrative of a task to get into the top three. It did still helped to keep things interesting and I left for Lap 3 excited that I could possibly move up in the field. I passed five women in Lap 3 and each time, felt the pressure build to push harder so that I could maintain my lead. I was encouraged by a shirtless and outrageously fun dude named Keith for most of Lap 3 who convinced me I was killing it and putting down a good pace (Thanks Keith!). I let these good vibes push me to finish 2nd Open woman, 3rd woman overall, and 14 minutes faster than last year.
This event was such a great training run. It’s a fantastic opportunity to practice pacing for a 50km distance on almost all run-able terrain. I think the concept of repetitive loops builds mental stamina as well and I’m super surprised how much easier it felt than last year. I have a 50% off coupon for registration next year, so I suppose I may have to do this one again! I ran this distance well, but I was pretty cooked by the end, even though I felt like I was going “easy” the first two laps. It served as a great reminder that this weekend, I will need to go easier than easy.
For Sinister 7, its going to be so amazingly exciting if I finish the race within the time limit of 30 hours. My goal is simply to finish, not because I doubt my physical ability, but because I recognize that I am a total noob. I at least know that no amount of physical training or mileage can replace the experience you gain with one or multiple 100 miler’s under your belt and even then, a finish is not certain. Almost all of the strongest runners I know or know of have failed to finish at least once due to a myriad of reasons, so I strongly respect “the finish”.
I’m not necessarily worried that I won’t finish. (Okay, I am). But I am more worried that I won’t be able to have a good attitude if I don’t finish. The ability to accept and learn from a DNF with grace is an ambitious goal in itself and I admire and look up to the many people I know that can handle and accept this experience. The fact that it’s going to be disturbingly hot definitely thickens the plot as well, but at least I’m not in for a boring day. Often, I feel my pitfall is entering a race expecting it to be easy because of the training that I’ve put in. This time, I’m braced to face a really tough day and I expect to have to fight the bonk, hard. I actually expect to fight several bonks hard. But I’m excited.
Running time is free time. Selfish time. I love how selfish you are allowed to be during a race. How often are you basically excused from all other life responsibilities because you are really, truly, unavailable to do anything else? These days, people still check their email on vacations, are constantly and compulsively checking their phones throughout the day and never really “checked in” to what they are doing. I know that there will be many painful and tough moments between Saturday and Sunday, but I am so looking forward to the break and the chance to fully focus on one goal: make it that 100 miles.
This one time I went running 