When my friend Jerry e-mailed me asking me to join his relay team for the Tuna 200 run, I immediately thought three things: first, my trainer Jackie must have put him up to this because I would not be the first or fiftieth person he would think to ask to add to his run team of amazing athletes. Second, Jackie must have some massive pull over Jerry (I’m thinking amped up strength training with 10 minute planks if he didn’t agree.), and third, wow, I’m flattered, truly flattered.
I have been struggling with my run since new orthotics were introduced to my feet a month or so ago, slowing me down to a crawl-speed. It seems my calves have not been active participants in my runs since my Achilles’ surgery two years ago, and now that proper foot placement is making them participate, they are cramping in rebellion. So, the thought of running this particular relay seemed so crazy that the only appropriate response when asked by Jerry was, “Sure, why not!”
I am a planner, and an over-thinker. My brain is my worst enemy! I did feel like I was carrying enough bags to last a week in the wilderness, but thankfully, there was plenty of room in the van to compensate for my over exuberance in packing. Stan and Laura picked me up right on time at 5:15am Friday morning and the start of the race was smooth.
I was hugely preoccupied with the fact that the two vans would be filled with very athletic, very fast runners, who run Ironman races in abundance, and then there would be me, someone whose consistent active endeavor is to daily walk my dog. I thought for certain they would leave me on the side of the road when I slowed the team’s pace too greatly. If they didn’t leave me, squealing their wheels while giving me the finger as I slowly trod along, surely, they would be awfully angry with me in the van for those long hours.
Boy was I wrong.
I ran the team’s second leg of the race. This leg was 5.7 miles. I can’t read maps. I really can’t because what I saw on the map I looked at before my run was 4 miles of flat, 1 mile of a really really big hill, then .7 of flat. Well, that wasn’t exactly the way it was. It was hilly the whole time, and the really really big hill was gigantic. It was difficult to find my pace, and I found my calves on fire the first mile. So, I stopped and walked for 30 seconds twice and then when the gigantic hill came, I walked it with all sorts of negativity in my head. That negativity was washed away when I ran the end of the leg and found my teammates cheering for me. They congratulated me and were happy to see me. This amazed me! I began to rethink the run. Maybe it wasn’t “that” bad, maybe walking a little here and there when needed isn’t the end of the world, and maybe with more training, that gigantic hill will seem very manageable!
I came away from the run with my mind on reset. I just need to train and build my leg muscles.
There were so many great aspects to this race. One of them was my ability to watch my teammates approach their runs. Their runs weren’t all perfect, some had to stop and walk, some didn’t make their anticipated times, some did better than they ever imagined they could. They would get back from their run, acknowledge what went wrong or what went right, and then move on.
I talked with my van mates about how to handle runner’s anxiety. Alex told me to count to 100 on my breaths and then start over. So, for my second run, I counted. I ran 4.7 with no music allowed. The counting worked really well for me. When I started to feel anxiety creep up, I would count to 300, and that worked! I also kept a solid pace for myself. I didn’t try to catch up with anyone, or stay in front of anyone; I just ran my own pace. I told myself to find a comfortable pace and run it.
The second run for me was very freeing. I was able to take in more of the scenery. I was able pump my fist in the air when the van rode by and rang the cowbells for me. I was able to fully appreciate the beauty of the little boy standing in his front yard with his parents cheering me on. It was steady, it was solid, it was the pace I needed to do at that time. That second run was light years away from my first run!
I thought the hours in between runs would drag on and on. I figured I would get an entire book read. I was wrong about that. Our van was so involved with each other’s runs, that there was hardly any down time at all. We were constantly looking out for the runner on the course, or talking to each other, so time went by quickly.
The stops along the way were amazing as well. The churches really came out to support us. One church had their praise band rocking the sanctuary. A lady from the church saw me standing in line for the bathroom to change out of my wet, stinky running clothes, and she ushered me into the sanctuary to a back bathroom I could use. I truly appreciated that! One church had a bonfire and the minister stood at the fire and talked with the runners. Inside that particular church, a few ladies were serving the runners cake decorated with Tuna Run 200, lasagna, hot dogs, chili, fruit, and water, AND they would not accept any money from us. Their generosity was truly moving. After my third run, which was complicated, a minister stood at the door of his church and greeted each one of us as we entered to change out of our wet running clothes. It was shortly after 5 in the morning, and I am sure he could have been happily sleeping, but instead he was welcoming us in from the cold rain.
I guess none of us should be surprised that the churches took it upon themselves to support the runners. Whenever there are runners out, Jesus is on the road. Think about it: there were over 700 runners, running through the dark rural roads. I bet most of the runners found themselves murmuring often: “Jesus,” and “For Christ’s Sake,” and “Oh God help me up this hill.”
My third run was 3.6 miles, and I hadn’t given it much thought. I was over the tough stuff, and I figured the 3.6 would be a breeze. What I didn’t count on was the fact that I really didn’t have that much time to recuperate, I only got a few hours of light shut eye, even though my van mates said I was snoring pretty well, I didn’t even realize I had been asleep when teammate Laura woke me up at 4am.
I was still mostly asleep when Cash ran up and passed the running bracelet to me. I started running around 4:30, which is a very dark time of the morning especially in rural North Carolina. Very dark. My shoes laces came untied twice. It is very unnerving to have to stop on a dark road to tie my shoes with farms to either side of me. I was cursing the dark at that point. The run itself wasn’t difficult, but not being able to see far beyond my headlamp was very unsettling. I have run at night through my neighborhood, but it is extremely different when the route is through two lane streets with nothing but farms on either side of the road, and you don’t know what lies ahead. It was difficult to keep my count, but I was plodding along.
I got to about 2.5 miles when a large white German Sheppard came running up to the edge of its yard, barking. It was barking fiercely, and shocked me when it came out on the street next to me. I remembered what Jackie told me about stopping, so I stopped and tried to look big. I shouted, “No, go home.” as loudly as I could. It was hunkered down on its haunches as if it was going to spring at me, and it was bearing its teeth. I kept saying no and pointing to its house for it to go home. I deployed my mace and had my finger on the trigger as it came at me a third time. In the distance, some runners were coming up from behind me. It distracted the dog long enough for me to start walking backwards. I kept eye contact with the beast, so he wouldn’t think I was leaving in fear. It looked from me to the approaching runners, and I kept moving on. After about 20 yards, I turned and slowly started running. Boy was I saying, “Thank you Jesus,” as I ran and realized there would not be a dog chomping on my thigh!
I had about a mile left and the problem wasn’t so much that I had a hill to run up, or that it had just begun to rain, or that it was still pitch dark out. The problem now was that massive adrenaline rush left me deflated and defeated feeling. I felt I needed to just sit down and cry because I had all my energy sucked out of me. One of the runners, who came from a distance behind me and distracted the dog, ran with me for a few minutes. She said she saw the dog, and from her view, it looked like it had bitten me. She said I did the right thing and was very brave. I told her how deflated I felt, and she encouraged me to keep going and not give up, and told me I was doing great, then she ran up the hill to the finish. What a huge help that was. It gave me that extra push I needed keep going. I past the bracelet on to Stan and finished my race!
I don’t think there is much I could have done differently about the dog although hound-sight is 20/20. Had it been daylight, and had I been able to see the dog from a distance, I would have crossed to the other side of the street to try to keep the dog from charging at me, but I do realize that this might not help in a situation with an aggressive dog. It took about an hour or so to get rid of that awful fright. I think next time, I would expect that lull after a big adrenaline rush and compensate for it knowing that all would return to normal soon enough.
I came away from this race with three new goals:
1- Train More
- With greater strength in my legs, I can run stronger and faster.
2- Stress Less
- During a race is not the time to worry about how fast I can run because that’s what I should concern myself with when I train. The more stress I put on myself the harder everything is. If I keep my mind calm, and keep my focus, I WILL get to the finish line.
3- Run my OWN Race
- My wonderful teammates showed me by example that it doesn’t matter what their pace is in regards to my pace. My run is all about my run. My pace is all about my pace. I run my race the best I can and that is good enough.
- When I try to push my pace to try competing with someone else, the anxiety begins. If I leave the pushing to the training sessions, and just run my own race, I believe I can run more joyfully and feel more accomplished at the end of my races.
I am truly happy that I ran this race. I feel brave. I have made some wonderful friends who impress me boundlessly. From the hills, to the rain, to the dude sleeping in the cemetery, to the church people, to the beast, to my amazingly fast teammates, to the fabulous tuna steak and beer at the finish line, this was one crazy race!
For nutrition, I used Infinit before my run, then took Starbucks mocha sugar free espresso and mixed it with chocolate milk and protein powder after my run. I also drank water after my run. I probably should have run with a water belt for the 5.7 mile leg because when I was freaking out on the hill, it would have helped to have water.
Some things I would do differently:
- Bungee cord shoes-laces, so my shoes don’t come untied
- Add a 2-foot stiff wire to the top of my hat with a blinky light at the end of it so I look really tall during my night runs. I am a very tiny woman, maybe a dog would be less likely to go for me if he thought I was really tall?
- Bring two more running hats, because the first one was soaking wet.
- Just enjoy the journey, all of it!
Some new things to add to my training plan are:
Faster-than-dog speed work (My daughter Arden believes I can accomplish this as long as the dog is a Chihuahua. You’ve got to love the mind of a pre-teen.)
After-party endurance training (I lasted one beer at the party before I was back at the hotel fast asleep. A few of my teammates would like me to work on that.).
