The title is because I feel very blah about this blog. I don't feel like I expressed my feelings very well. I'm tired of being injured and talking about it. Oh well...here we go.
I love running, but I am passionate about racing. I mean I don’t think I can express how I feel about racing. I love racing with a passion that most people reserve for romantic relationships. We often joke in our house that I love running more than my husband. That’s not true but only by a small margin. I once had a dream where I told Norm that I was quitting work because all I wanted to do was run. He of course thought this was a bad idea. I don’t care, I only want to run! It was just a dream, but it could possibly happen.
But let me back up…
I took a shot at the US Sky Series knowing it was way out of my comfort zone and fell in love. I already knew I loved running up, but this was beyond. Ridiculously hard, but amazing! After two bad races, I thought my points in the sky series would be so low that there would be no reason to keep racing. Surprise! After 2 races I was in second. Financially I couldn’t make it to Crystal Mountain and my left leg is a hot mess… As the Flagstaff race approached I hadn’t been running due to my leg and I was still in second place.
Let me be clear, I was not in second place because I did anything great. I was in second place because I showed up. My times were terrible, but what my times don’t tell you is that I gutted out two races. At Kendall Mountain I was literally freaked out by the scramble at the top. I had no idea what to do and was passed again and again. Then I fell coming down (taking a corner my legs just slid sideways out from under me) and my hip was killing me all the way down. At mile 14 of Maratona I was forced to walk because of IT Band pain, but I put a smile on my face and hiked as fast as I could to finish that race.
Growing up my mom believed in me, but that one voice wasn’t enough to drown out all the all the other adults who did a piss poor job of supporting and encouraging me. My pile of regrets is mountain sized. I didn’t try things I wanted to try. I made bad decision after bad decision, but those decisions gave me my kids and lead me to my fantastic husband and that’s what keeps the mountain of regret from crushing me.
I think this is why the love for racing. I am never happy, I always want more, I always want better. I think to be competitive you have to suffer a bit of an ego problem, but that isn’t what drives me. What drives me is this internal need to do better than I did in the past. I set really high goals and I expect myself to reach them. I have said this before, but I truly believe I am a better runner. I know I can perform better. This is why I am so emotional about my running. I can’t give up – no more regrets.
So back to Flagstaff. The week before the race I was totally conflicted. I had run for the first time in weeks and it wasn’t good. I was still in pain, but I was second in the series. I just had to finish this race. I also did not want another crappy race time. It was just a really odd feeling. I was second in the series, but only because I had showed up for the races not because of my performance.
The Wednesday before the race I went for a run. One mile in I decided not to run the Flagstaff race and turned around to head home. The pain wasn’t terrible, but it was constant and mentally exhausting. I think in the beginning I tolerated the pain because I was so happy to be running again, but that was no longer the case. Charlie (my PT) was supposed to see me on Thursday and I emailed him to cancel the appointment.
Thursday morning one of my students interrupted my lecture to say I didn’t seem like myself. “I’m having a rough week,” I said. Of course they wanted to know why. I took a minute to think. “Ok, I’ll tell you, but I apologize now because I’m probably going to cry a little, “ I responded. (not super professional, but I teach psychology so we are used to talking about our feelings and experiences.) When I started to explain to my students the situation, I was overwhelmed with emotion. I had to stop talking and put my head down for a minute to get myself together before I could continue. No one wants to ugly face cry to a whole classroom! I ended the story telling them I would not be running on Saturday. I think my overwhelming emotion came from knowing that my racing was done for the year, like it or not.
But driving home, thinking how overcome I was with emotion I started to reconsider. I talked to Norm on the phone and I think I just kept saying, “but if any one looks at my times I sucked.” The last thing I remember him saying to me was “I don’t know Kristina, I’ve never been second in the US at anything and I probably won’t ever be.” I talked to Charlie that afternoon. And we decided that he would see me on Friday morning and hopefully that would help me run on Saturday.
I drove to Flagstaff on Friday afternoon with Ava and her friend Tabitha. My friend Jennie was kind enough to let me stay in her cabin when I told her my plan was to sleep in my car near Snowbowl. I had two glasses of wine Friday night (clearly a little more stressed then I was admitting) and went to bed at 8:30pm.
Race morning started out really cold. I have coffee every morning. I do not get out of bed until Norm brings me my coffee. But Saturday morning I forgot to have coffee. I don’t know how that happened. I hoped they would have some coffee where we were catching the shuttle, but no. We took the school bus to the start line. I wasn’t nervous because I knew I wasn’t really racing and I fully expected to come in at the back of the pack. The race started and I knew I was pushing too hard. I pulled off and waited a bit then fell in behind some other runners. This gave me a way to slow myself down. It also gave me someone to talk with while I hiked the first climb. There was a lot of trading spots for 4th, 5th and 6th, but after a bit I was surprised to find myself in 4th and alone. But the last mile or two coming into the aid station at mile 14 that ended. I was just feeling tired, I was stumbling too much and my back was hurting. I pulled off to let girls pass more than once.
When I got to the aid station my coach Chris Vargo was there. This was our first time meeting face to face, but it felt like seeing an old friend. “I think I’m done, “ I announced. Chris and they other guy at the aid station were encouraging me to sit and think about it, no rush they said. But I was counting women coming in and out of the aid station. Finally I turned to Chris and said “I’m done.” He gave me a look. “I can tell by your look that you disagree, but if I don’t finish in the top 10 I don’t get points and I’ve been counting and I’m out of top 10.” And I knew I did not have the desire to try to hunt people down. I knew how long I had been out on the course and I could guess how much longer I would be out there. My daughter and her friend where at the cabin alone and I couldn’t leave them alone for another 4 or 5 hours. My head was pounding (from lack of caffeine, but for some reason I had not put that together yet). DONE! Unfortunately I decided to drop at a remote location. Luckily I had walked in with a guy who was suffering IT Band problems and also wanted to drop. We walked the 3 miles to the next aid station together. Yeah for Sabrina!!! She rounded up some of her kids and drove us to the finish line so we could get our cars.
There was some good to this disappointing day. Knowing that I wasn’t racing all out I decided to ditch the gels and try nut butter for fuel. This was amazing! No stomach pains at all! I used the mini packets of Justin’s Peanut Butter. This is exciting because I have struggled with fueling during races. My stomach does not like gels! I also tried Picky Bar as my pre race fuel. Loved it! I think I could also use these during ultra’s to get some extra calories. My extreme excitement about these new discoveries tells you what a running dork I am.
Saturday night, relaxing with a glass of wine, I see the tweet from US Sky Running. I was 3rd in the series. I wasn’t sure what would happen when I dropped from the race. And being 3rd is awesome, but with my poor performances I know it doesn’t mean a lot. My happiness when seeing the tweet was because I know I tried something really hard and out of my comfort zone.
I don’t regret my decision to drop. I had no business out on that race course, my body was not at all ready for that race. Here it is 3 days later and I still feel like someone beat me. I’m still barely moving. Now the sadness sets in. My PT thinks I will be able to race at Desert Solstice, but I’m not so sure. My gut tells me my racing for the year is done. I don’t want any more crappy races. I think it’s time to figure out the left leg, spend the year getting back in shape and ready for next year.
Today in my class I was reminded why I love sharing my running with others. Before I began the lecture I let my students know that I decided to race after all. As soon as I said that I had raced I saw one of my female students mouth the words yes and give a little fist pump. I hope that means I inspired her in some way. I love that my stories help others. I love coaching other runners and helping them achieve their goals. But the most exciting thing is inspiring my own family. I talked about Sinjin and his belief in himself in a previous post Our son Enzo has also set lofty goals for himself. He wants to be a sponsored BMX athlete by the time he turns 16. We drive him all over town so he can ride because we know all abut chasing dreams. It never occurs to my kids that you shouldn’t chase your dreams. Or that they won’t come true. Time to get back to work so I can make dreams come true.
I love running, but I am passionate about racing. I mean I don’t think I can express how I feel about racing. I love racing with a passion that most people reserve for romantic relationships. We often joke in our house that I love running more than my husband. That’s not true but only by a small margin. I once had a dream where I told Norm that I was quitting work because all I wanted to do was run. He of course thought this was a bad idea. I don’t care, I only want to run! It was just a dream, but it could possibly happen.
But let me back up…
I took a shot at the US Sky Series knowing it was way out of my comfort zone and fell in love. I already knew I loved running up, but this was beyond. Ridiculously hard, but amazing! After two bad races, I thought my points in the sky series would be so low that there would be no reason to keep racing. Surprise! After 2 races I was in second. Financially I couldn’t make it to Crystal Mountain and my left leg is a hot mess… As the Flagstaff race approached I hadn’t been running due to my leg and I was still in second place.
Let me be clear, I was not in second place because I did anything great. I was in second place because I showed up. My times were terrible, but what my times don’t tell you is that I gutted out two races. At Kendall Mountain I was literally freaked out by the scramble at the top. I had no idea what to do and was passed again and again. Then I fell coming down (taking a corner my legs just slid sideways out from under me) and my hip was killing me all the way down. At mile 14 of Maratona I was forced to walk because of IT Band pain, but I put a smile on my face and hiked as fast as I could to finish that race.
Growing up my mom believed in me, but that one voice wasn’t enough to drown out all the all the other adults who did a piss poor job of supporting and encouraging me. My pile of regrets is mountain sized. I didn’t try things I wanted to try. I made bad decision after bad decision, but those decisions gave me my kids and lead me to my fantastic husband and that’s what keeps the mountain of regret from crushing me.
I think this is why the love for racing. I am never happy, I always want more, I always want better. I think to be competitive you have to suffer a bit of an ego problem, but that isn’t what drives me. What drives me is this internal need to do better than I did in the past. I set really high goals and I expect myself to reach them. I have said this before, but I truly believe I am a better runner. I know I can perform better. This is why I am so emotional about my running. I can’t give up – no more regrets.
So back to Flagstaff. The week before the race I was totally conflicted. I had run for the first time in weeks and it wasn’t good. I was still in pain, but I was second in the series. I just had to finish this race. I also did not want another crappy race time. It was just a really odd feeling. I was second in the series, but only because I had showed up for the races not because of my performance.
The Wednesday before the race I went for a run. One mile in I decided not to run the Flagstaff race and turned around to head home. The pain wasn’t terrible, but it was constant and mentally exhausting. I think in the beginning I tolerated the pain because I was so happy to be running again, but that was no longer the case. Charlie (my PT) was supposed to see me on Thursday and I emailed him to cancel the appointment.
Thursday morning one of my students interrupted my lecture to say I didn’t seem like myself. “I’m having a rough week,” I said. Of course they wanted to know why. I took a minute to think. “Ok, I’ll tell you, but I apologize now because I’m probably going to cry a little, “ I responded. (not super professional, but I teach psychology so we are used to talking about our feelings and experiences.) When I started to explain to my students the situation, I was overwhelmed with emotion. I had to stop talking and put my head down for a minute to get myself together before I could continue. No one wants to ugly face cry to a whole classroom! I ended the story telling them I would not be running on Saturday. I think my overwhelming emotion came from knowing that my racing was done for the year, like it or not.
But driving home, thinking how overcome I was with emotion I started to reconsider. I talked to Norm on the phone and I think I just kept saying, “but if any one looks at my times I sucked.” The last thing I remember him saying to me was “I don’t know Kristina, I’ve never been second in the US at anything and I probably won’t ever be.” I talked to Charlie that afternoon. And we decided that he would see me on Friday morning and hopefully that would help me run on Saturday.
I drove to Flagstaff on Friday afternoon with Ava and her friend Tabitha. My friend Jennie was kind enough to let me stay in her cabin when I told her my plan was to sleep in my car near Snowbowl. I had two glasses of wine Friday night (clearly a little more stressed then I was admitting) and went to bed at 8:30pm.
Race morning started out really cold. I have coffee every morning. I do not get out of bed until Norm brings me my coffee. But Saturday morning I forgot to have coffee. I don’t know how that happened. I hoped they would have some coffee where we were catching the shuttle, but no. We took the school bus to the start line. I wasn’t nervous because I knew I wasn’t really racing and I fully expected to come in at the back of the pack. The race started and I knew I was pushing too hard. I pulled off and waited a bit then fell in behind some other runners. This gave me a way to slow myself down. It also gave me someone to talk with while I hiked the first climb. There was a lot of trading spots for 4th, 5th and 6th, but after a bit I was surprised to find myself in 4th and alone. But the last mile or two coming into the aid station at mile 14 that ended. I was just feeling tired, I was stumbling too much and my back was hurting. I pulled off to let girls pass more than once.
When I got to the aid station my coach Chris Vargo was there. This was our first time meeting face to face, but it felt like seeing an old friend. “I think I’m done, “ I announced. Chris and they other guy at the aid station were encouraging me to sit and think about it, no rush they said. But I was counting women coming in and out of the aid station. Finally I turned to Chris and said “I’m done.” He gave me a look. “I can tell by your look that you disagree, but if I don’t finish in the top 10 I don’t get points and I’ve been counting and I’m out of top 10.” And I knew I did not have the desire to try to hunt people down. I knew how long I had been out on the course and I could guess how much longer I would be out there. My daughter and her friend where at the cabin alone and I couldn’t leave them alone for another 4 or 5 hours. My head was pounding (from lack of caffeine, but for some reason I had not put that together yet). DONE! Unfortunately I decided to drop at a remote location. Luckily I had walked in with a guy who was suffering IT Band problems and also wanted to drop. We walked the 3 miles to the next aid station together. Yeah for Sabrina!!! She rounded up some of her kids and drove us to the finish line so we could get our cars.
There was some good to this disappointing day. Knowing that I wasn’t racing all out I decided to ditch the gels and try nut butter for fuel. This was amazing! No stomach pains at all! I used the mini packets of Justin’s Peanut Butter. This is exciting because I have struggled with fueling during races. My stomach does not like gels! I also tried Picky Bar as my pre race fuel. Loved it! I think I could also use these during ultra’s to get some extra calories. My extreme excitement about these new discoveries tells you what a running dork I am.
Saturday night, relaxing with a glass of wine, I see the tweet from US Sky Running. I was 3rd in the series. I wasn’t sure what would happen when I dropped from the race. And being 3rd is awesome, but with my poor performances I know it doesn’t mean a lot. My happiness when seeing the tweet was because I know I tried something really hard and out of my comfort zone.
I don’t regret my decision to drop. I had no business out on that race course, my body was not at all ready for that race. Here it is 3 days later and I still feel like someone beat me. I’m still barely moving. Now the sadness sets in. My PT thinks I will be able to race at Desert Solstice, but I’m not so sure. My gut tells me my racing for the year is done. I don’t want any more crappy races. I think it’s time to figure out the left leg, spend the year getting back in shape and ready for next year.
Today in my class I was reminded why I love sharing my running with others. Before I began the lecture I let my students know that I decided to race after all. As soon as I said that I had raced I saw one of my female students mouth the words yes and give a little fist pump. I hope that means I inspired her in some way. I love that my stories help others. I love coaching other runners and helping them achieve their goals. But the most exciting thing is inspiring my own family. I talked about Sinjin and his belief in himself in a previous post Our son Enzo has also set lofty goals for himself. He wants to be a sponsored BMX athlete by the time he turns 16. We drive him all over town so he can ride because we know all abut chasing dreams. It never occurs to my kids that you shouldn’t chase your dreams. Or that they won’t come true. Time to get back to work so I can make dreams come true.
