I forgot to do this, and two weeks later my dirty/smelly/disgusting shoes and clothes looked petrified. I found my handhelds with the remnants of soda stuck to the inside of each bottle. Half-eaten packs of energy gels shoved into my race vest. It was an ultra-disaster (couldn't help myself) and it could have easily been solved if I took care of it earlier.

Save yourself this misery and take care of it right away.

Two weeks before my first ultra, I was feeling good but still pretty nervous. My training was not where it was suppose to be. I should have been averaging 40+ mile weeks and was topping out around 20 (if that).  When the race finally approached,  I just smiled and accepted where I was at. I had set goals for myself at the beginning of the year, and had no intention of breaking them.

What I didn't prepare myself for, however, was feeling fine the whole time.

In fact, feeling good the whole time. Laughing. Talking. Eating. Drinking. Constantly moving.

No low points, no thoughts of quitting, no tears.

I expected the worst, and I got the best.

I was so surprised, that when I finished, I looked my friend Kevin in the eye and said, "I'm really done now?"

Step 2: Don't "Break A Leg" walking to receive your diploma.

                                    

Step 3: Bring your friends. Or your dog. Or your friends AND your dog. Having emotional support is a huge bonus when running your first ultra.

Step 4: Bring a change of clothes. Have some puppy-time. Take a sip off your friend's beer. Smile.

                                      
                         Ran into my friend Jenn Brown on the course, made me smile like always!

On the way out, my friend Kevin mentioned to me that another one of my friends, Dawn Marie Burke, was only ten minutes ahead. It gave me motivation to push a little and I took off running, hoping to catch up with her.

I was by myself on the trail for a while, so I put on my headphones and enjoyed some David Bowie, Modern Love.  Twenty minutes and four songs later, I found myself in a part of the course that was very different from the rest. The trail led along the back edge of the farm property, and came up to a fork in the trail. Instead of continuing on into a clear trail, it dissipated into a stream of several trails leading in different directions. I stood transfixed, half-staring at the trails like they were Medusa's hair and if looked any longer I'd turn into stone.

And then I got lucky: I spotted another runner in the distance, on one of the many winding trails in the area.

She called out to me at the same time I called out to her.

"I'm lost!" -- "Is this the trail?"

We made our way towards each other, unplugging our headphones.

Step 5: Find a running buddy if you don't already have one. You're always better off talking and laughing on the trails!

It was funny, because although we didn't say it outright, we both decided then that it was a good idea to continue on together. Kind of like, if we are both lost together, let's go get un-lost together. Power in numbers is always better in this sort of a situation. While some people might see their fellow racers as competition, I see them all as potential friends. We made our best educated guesses about which path to take, and continued on looking for the course markers.

After a few minutes of chatting, I learned her name, Trisha Reeves, and that she also has a running blog called The Barefoot Monologues. It never ceases to amaze me at how small of a world it can be sometimes. Cool thing was, when I told her the name of my blog, she said she had come across it before. I hadn't seen hers, but I did read her poem, which was featured in Vanessa Run's The Summit Seeker, which I read and loved. Knowing she was a fellow writer made me like her even more. The things we had in common continued to pile up, and I was ecstatic about finding a new friend.

She was a Boston-transplant. "I've wanted to move to California for years," she told me.  Currently residing in the sunny San Diego, she told me about her hash-running club (drinking beer and running, does it get any better than that?).  We talked about everything from our mutual lack of training, to our love of trail running and barefoot shoes, to personalities of ultrarunners. You name it, we talked about it. We talked so much, in fact, that we found ourselves lost on the trails, again. This moment was really important, because in the past I may have given up from such a set back. I may have even cried. Being with Trisha gave me a positive attitude.  She even said the same thing-- that being together made us face the situation differently.  I stole a line from my Grandpa, and repeated it over and over as we corrected our mistake and backtracked a few miles, uphill, in the middle of our ultra. Nothing to do but do it.

The end of the second loop soon approached, and I was surprised by how good I felt. Talking and story-telling really helped distract me from the pain of the miles. After we crossed through the start/finish again, to get ready for our third loop, Trisha and I agreed to give ourselves a ten minute break to freshen up.

I went off to my tent for another bottle of gatorade and to see what my friends were up to.

I was equally parts amused and jealous. They lined up at the edge of the course (which was a few yards from our tents) with their chairs and bottles of alcohol. As runners passed by, my friends would cheer them on and offer them shots of bourbon or whiskey. They also had strawberries, "for chasing it with." I was shocked when they told me that some people actually took them up on the offer!


Alexis came up to me and told me she wanted to run/ hike the last loop with me. She had hip surgery late last year, and this would be her longest distance ran since then. I was excited for her to join Trisha and I, and nervous for her hip. But I knew we would be taking it easy, and in the very least we could all speed-walk the last loop. It meant a lot to me that she wanted to be out there with me, and I think Trisha and I needed someone with some fresh energy to encourage us along.

Step 6: Forget being competitive for your first ultra. Pace yourself, enjoy yourself, and take your time. Unless you're the next Pat Sweeney, chill out. 

This is the point where I should probably state that I am not a competitive person, at all. I create goals for myself, and myself only. I try my best not to compare myself to others because it simply serves no purpose for me. For this race, I had three goals, in this order:

 1) Finish un-injured.
 2) Finish in under 24 hours.
 3) Don't get last place.

So far, I was exceeding all my goals. I didn't care if I needed breaks to walk, so that removed a lot of extra stress. I know a lot of people will disagree with me on walking during a race. Some might say that if you walk, you technically aren't running an ultra. And to them, I'd say being outside, covering the distance in whatever way possible, is what matters most to me. I don't claim to be fast. I am not trying to place. I am simply trying to complete the miles. If I pushed myself to run the entire time, I guarantee I would have not lasted past 20 or so miles. Because I was conserving, I was able to keep running on and off the whole time, and do it with a smile on my face. That's more important to me.

Step 7: Listen to what other ultrarunners have told you. Compile your knowledge. Take it seriously. Don't blank on race day and just "wing it".

So when the race day approached, I didn't just "wing it". In the past, I have been known to head out on long runs on an empty stomach and with no food. Allowing myself to bonk during my daily runs is one thing, doing it in an ultra could be disastrous. So I ate a decent breakfast, had lots of water, and packed my vest full of gels, shot blocks, and salt tablets. I made sure that every 45 minutes I would be taking in calories, drinking a certain amount of water, and stuffing my face as best I could. I normally hate eating when I run, so this is something I struggle doing.

And you know what, I've said it once, and I'll continue to say it: I love blue gatorade. And drinking coke during a race. Find a drink that has sugar and quenches your thirst. I don't know if it's because when I run I get dehydrated and crave water and sugar, or if it's because I feel like I earned it, but coke tastes absolutely aahhhhhmasing after a run. Or in the middle. Whatever. Do what makes your stomach and body happy.

Step 8: When in doubt, sing Disney songs. Or 80's songs. Or any song that will make you yell out at the top of your lungs and forget whatever is bothering you at the moment.

I don't know when I first started doing this. But a couple years back, when hikes or long runs became particularly uncomfortable or painful, I started singing. Sometimes it would be a tune from The Lion King, sometimes "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid. This time, I pulled out all my cards. At first, Alexis and Trisha just listened to me like I was mad. But after the first song, I think they both gave in and decided to sing along. There is nothing quite like singing Bohemian Rhapsody, drunk off the miles, in the hot afternoon sun with two friends.

"I really feel drunk," I told Trisha and Alexis. "I can't really walk straight and I keep on going in and out of concentration."

We tried our best to ignore our aches and pains. Trisha's knee had been hurting her for quite some time. I felt good enough to run, but finishing together was important to both of us. She told me to continue on without her, but I told her no, we had made it that far already.

So we sang, drank up the intoxicating waves of the sun, and enjoyed our last miles on the trail. When my Garmin reached 26.2 miles, I had a mini celebration for myself.

"I never even ran a marathon, but I guess now I have!" I told Trisha.

"Me too!" She said, laughing.

"I wonder how many ultrarunners just up and skipped doing a marathon," I said.

This brought us back on the topic of competitive marathon road runners and happy-go-lucky trail ultrarunners.

"Honestly," I told her. "I've never met an ultrarunner who was a complete douchebag asshole."

"I have," She laughed. "But they definitely aren't common."

"Right," I agreed. "The asshole ultrarunner is the outlier."
 So I guess, in a way, part of this lesson is A) Don't be afraid of singing Disney songs, and B) Don't be a trail douchebag.

Step 9: Finish strong and with a smile on your face (you never know who is taking a picture).

I'll let the pictures do the talking for this one. I think my friend Bobby was the mastermind behind these ones.

                             
This one was special. On my last stretch of my ultra, I ran into Carolyn, my amazing friend and trail-mama! If any of you remember, last year I met her at Born To Run and paced her for the last 10 miles of her 100-Miler. It was an incredible experience and we have been friends ever since. I have learned a lot from her about ultrarunning and life in general, so it was awesome to get to see her at the very end! We stopped to take a picture, and she continued on. She was running the 100-Mile, again. Amazing!

Step 10: Change into something comfortable. Relax. Savor the moment, soak everything in, and don't forget to celebrate!

                

The book Born To Run re-ignited my passion for running, eventually led to me running at last year's Born To Run Ultra, and motivated me in doing my thesis on trail and ultrarunning. Listening to his presentation was exactly what I needed to remind myself why I'm so passionate about trail running, being surrounded by nature, and the thrill of adventure. 

After the presentation ended, I sat in my chair, really not wanting to have the day end or head back home.

* * *

A year ago, I figured I'd have plenty O' time to prepare for Born To Run. I envisioned myself training like a rock-star, completing my first Marathon in the fall and increasing my distances every week on a set schedule. I should really know myself better by now. I have a hard time remembering to water my plants once a week, let alone stick to an immensely challenging running schedule during my last semester of my Master's.

Life had it's own ideas for how I would spent my time. After my first half last year, I felt my energy quickly dissipate. What I didn't realize was that I was burning the candle at both ends. Coupled with a bad diet, I found myself in the middle of the winter out of running shape and feeling a bit lost. I got myself into yoga, but that is clearly no way to train for an Ultra. I told myself the spring would bring me my energy back, and maybe if I gave myself a little break from running it would help me with my motivation....

Bad bad bad. Bad idea. Let me just say that "taking a little break from running" turned into 2-3 months with very little mileage. And to further add to the results of my own thesis, I felt terrible from not running.

* * *

One of the most meaningful moments I had last year at Born To Run was while I was waiting to pace my friend Carolyn for the last 10-Miles of her 100-Miler. She had originally asked me to pace her just for the last 10 miles, but as I sat by the fire chatting with a runner named Flint, I found myself being talked into bumping up to the 50K.

"She's almost on her second to last loop now," I told him as I stared at the crackling fire.

"You should do the last two loops! Then it would count as a 50K!" He encouraged. 

"You really think I could do another two loops of ten?" I stared at him, bewildered. I was waiting for him to realize the ridiculousness of what he was saying. "I've only ever ran ten miles before! What if I hold her back? Or worse, I only manage one loop and then I can't do it. She needs me more for the last ten..."

"If you feel fine now, you can totally do it," He told me, with a twinkle in his eye. 

"Seriously?" I was startled that he believed in me when I barely believed in myself. It warmed my heart and I felt lucky to be surrounded with such incredible and motivating people.

"Bump up! Just ask Luis! Seriously!" His excitement literally had me in awe, and I saw him start to scan the area for the race director.

Luckily for me, Luis was distracted off in the distance with something. 

"There is no way I can do another two loops," I told him, feeling disappointed with the statement. "But I can definitely do the last ten."

He smiled, knowing he had achieved at least half of his goal of motivating me.

"If I'm up when you go to pace her, I'll cheer you on!" He said, smiling from ear to ear. 

Our short conversation filled me with a strange sense of strength I never knew I possessed.

Later that night, I ended up pacing Carolyn around 2:30 AM, for her ultimate win of first place in the woman's 100-Miler. I completed 20 miles in under 24 hours and could hardly believe what I had just experienced.

* * *

It's a month and a half until my race and I am absolutely petrified. What I didn't anticipate was how busy I would be this spring. My training wasn't just sub-par, it was almost non-existant. I now face the dilemma: Do I drop down to the 10-Miler, admit defeat before I even begin, or go for the 50K knowing I did not train nearly enough. If I do the 10-Miler, I can definitely pace someone and go for 20 miles again. But who knows, I have all weekend to complete the 50K, and even if I walked the last two loops, I could still easily finish in under 8 hours. 

There are lots of pros and cons. 

My biggest influence in the decision is my lack of wanting to back down from my commitment. And having to e-mail Luis and ask him to officially drop me down. On one hand, I have time on my side. On the other, why put myself through unnecessary pain if I'm not prepared?