Jackpot Ultra Running Festival Race Recap

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Many people know the story of #4Bunny.   Many do not. If you don’t, I suggest you read this first:

https://coachkristie.com/2014/10/18/4bunny-2/

If you choose not to, in a nutshell, I made a promise to my Mom (Bunny) on her deathbed to find my joy again and to go back to ultra running. To go after the elusive 50 Mile I had been wanting and training for back in 2012.

#4Bunny

In October of 2013 I had unexpected spine surgery.   This surgery takes approximately a year for the body to completely heal. I walked a lot for rehab, and 90% of my training in 2014 was on the elliptical to reduce impact and allow my body to heal completely.   It wasn’t until after October 2014 that I finally kicked the elliptical to the curb and was able to hit the trails, the treadmill, and pavement again.

In February 2014 I went for a walk at my favorite new park, just down the street from my house. I arrived to see a bouncy house and tents everywhere. It looked like a big ole carnival. Turns out it was the inaugural Jackpot Ultra Running Festival. I took a few laps, chatted with people who were in their darkest hour and helped to keep them moving forward. I was hooked. Went home and made a note to register for 2015 as soon as registration opened.

Training and nutrition was spot on for this race. My only setback was coming down with the flu 3 weeks before the race.

I kept pretty quiet about everything publically. Only a few close people knew what I was training for and my goals. Whenever I make a race public or talk openly about my goals it implodes. It’s my own personal curse. I also don’t like the pressure that other people’s expectations and unsolicited advice that public discussion of my races brings.

I originally signed up for the 12-hour race, but really wanted to fulfill the 50 Mile promise to Mom. I knew that if I got to 12 hours and missed 50 I would be livid with myself. So I upgraded to the 24 hour. Having that time cushion was really freeing. No pressure. Goal was to be vertical at the finish. In my head, if I reached 50 and was still moving I would go for 100k but after 50 Miles, the promise to Mom would be fulfilled.

Pre race calls with my Coach and business partner Rebecca Adamson and registered dietician Dina Griffin had me pumped up.  Thank you Rebecca and Dina for everything you both did to set me up for nothing but success in this race.

Fuel prepped and ready to go for race day (GenUCAN, Nuun, PB/Honey/See Salt Sandwiches, Pickle juice, Lara Bars (ended up not using them), Salt and Vinegar chips (didn’t use them), Peanut Butter pretzels (also ended up not using), PlowON gum, peppermint gum, and BCAAs (my secret weapon):

bottles

Went to bed and slept amazing. Best night’s sleep before a race, ever.

Race morning I sent my husband and son off to CA, my son had a hockey tournament I was going to miss (sad panda).   They also would not be there for my race (double sad panda). After I sent them off I had my breakfast and loaded up the car. I got to the race an hour before the start. My crew chief, teammate and close friend Kathryn Bruce was there with bells on. We set on to set up base camp. Fellow Idiots Running Club running buddy Heather Rowley set up her base camp next door. This was going to be awesome.

base camp

The atmosphere was electrifying. The weather was GORGEOUS. I am a local so unseasonably high temps expected to reach 80 was still lovely to me. I felt bad for those from other places. It was going to be hot. When they felt great at night, I was going to freeze.

The starting siren sounded and that’s when my heart went to my throat. Showtime!

Quite literally as I crossed over the start line off to the right was a huge group yelling, “Go Kristie” a huge surprise of a group of people from my son’s school. Had to stop and give hugs all around. What a big surprise! One of them snapped this shot on one of my first laps (thank you Amy Tassin and family!)

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The racecourse is familiar. I train here. It was a 2.38-mile loop. My son learned to ride his bike here. I walked here during rehab after surgery.   I was “home”.   I was in my element.

One of the best pieces of advice I received before the race was if something hit my radar, address it immediately. Do not wait.   I trained in the shoes I was wearing race morning with no issues. None. No blisters, nothing. Perfect shoes. 3-4 laps in my feet hit my radar like a missile. Something was wrong. Very wrong. My shoes didn’t fit. My feet had swollen (my guess from sodium load the night before and the increasing heat on the course) and I had hot spots starting all over both feet. There was no way I would make it 24 hours in these shoes, let alone 4.   I hopped into my tent and put on my backup pair of shoes.   UGH. Too big.   I was sliding all over.   Made it one lap, came back, tried on other shoes, nope. Ok. Pair number two was going to be it. I slathered more body glide on my feet, reapplied sunscreen, and off I went.

Kathryn had a sheet of paper, a fuel tracking log on my table so each lap I could check in and document what I was taking in and to serve as my brain because literally after 2 laps my brain cut off and I was on autopilot. She also had a sign where she was writing down comments that people were sending to me via social media. Seeing this each lap was energizing.

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Many races I have run have been motivated completely by demons. Anger, resentment, feelings of having to prove myself, and self worth. While I had some demons for this race, this race was different. It was so positive and uplifting. I can tell you this race was the first one where it was all surrounded by positivity and support. No pressure. Just support. My friends, family, Storm Hockey Family, #TeamNC buddies, Idiots Running Club buddies, KR Endurance sponsors and KR Endurance teammates were all so supportive and encouraging, I felt unstoppable.

lap8

Friend Bobbie Davis showed up (time I have no clue) and would be there for the duration.   She and Kathryn were my rocks for this entire race.

Teammate and friend Teri Radke was at the aid station volunteering, seeing a familiar face on each lap was great. She would come back and take a couple laps with me after her shift and a couple at night. The most memorable was in the middle of the night we were completing a lap and coming to the Start/Finish line and the song “Best Time of My Life” was blasting. We started singing and dancing. It was awesome.

me and teri

Teammate and friend Jennifer Teft and family showed up and surprised me.   Moments like this in an event like this give you energy to keep moving forward.

jenteft

Ice buckets were on the course so you could (as in my case) dunk your visor in and/or pour cold water over you in the heat of the day. This was a nice touch for this race. Also hats off to my volunteer buddy who handed me ice to shove into my sports bra every lap.

The day hours went in a blur. I put my headphones on and listened to tunes and enjoyed the scenery.

Charlene Ragsdale, who I had not seen since RNRLV 2013, came at the 11th hour and we did a few laps together.   Laughing, chatting, and catching up right where we left off. She captured a funny moment after a pit stop I took. Yes folks, this race was at a park, there were BATHROOMS with soap, water, soft toilet paper, and hand dryers. If you were feeling nostalgic you could hit the porta potties if you so desired too. The race directors were AWESOME and thought of everything.

potty

Let me go on record that I great big puffy heart pickle juice and duct tape.   In the heat of the day I would take swigs of pickle juice and it tasted like the greatest thing ever.   Duct tape was my friend after lancing blisters- “we’ve got a squirter!!” and taping up my feet. I would NOT have made it without duct tape, thank you Kathryn for bringing this. Our base camp ended up being the location of blister lancing and duct taping for other runners on the course too.   If you have duct tape…. they will come…

I talked to my husband and son at some point, I vaguely remember. But it kept me moving.

Some time in the middle of the night it happened. I reached the 50-mile mark. To mark the moment my crew, Bobbie and Kathryn greeted me on that lap in a way that had many thinking they were hallucinating.   When I saw them I doubled over laughing. I love you two girls. So much!

best crew evah

I had prepared myself for “the darkness” that would hit my mind and I would battle at a race of this distance. It never came. Not once. I smiled and had a blast the whole time. Even at night when the course was lonely and my feet were screaming. Still then every runner who passed waved, high fived…. lap after lap, after lap, after lap.

The darkness may not have come, but the cold did. Boy did it ever.

I did not plan for cold enough. I didn’t. My spine surgery left me sensitive to cold. I did not pack enough clothes.   One lap I sat down at base camp and Bobbie and Kathryn loaded me up with blankets. Blister lancing session #2 also took place. Kathryn stripped off her fabulously floral toasty warm leggings, bundled me with 2 fleece jackets, and gloves. Warm and toasty and feeling good again Kathryn and I set out for a few laps.   She kept me entertained and distracted.

One memorable lap, as we were circling the lake, the birds started waking up. You would hear the chatter. A look off to the east you could just see the dawn barely hinting on the horizon. I looked at Kathryn “holy sh$t, I am going to do this, I survived the night”.

Dear friend Fatima Valeras showed up and relieved Kathryn of pacing and took over as my anchor. Another rock in my life I am thankful for Fatima.   We set off. Chatting.   Catching up.   The sun started coming up. I saw lap after lap my goal of 100k was approaching.   I was going to do this. I was.

Layers of clothes came off as the sun came up.   Seeing the grit and determination of people still on the course as the sun came up was amazing and inspiring.   Some running, some limping, some being held up by their pacers.   All, smiling, even through the pain.

Let me tell you from the start to the finish everyone on the course was friendly, supportive, amazing. Lap after lap after lap.   If I had a dollar for every “good job” I heard out there, I would be a millionaire.   I can honestly tell you this is the first race I have ever experienced anything like that.

So the joke was on me.   I wanted 100k, which is 62.1371 miles.   Lap 26 would be 61.88 miles. Seriously? I would have to tough it out to lap 27.   I had 3 laps to go and was figuring all this out.  I had plenty of time to do them. I was going to sit and rest 15 minutes between laps. Fatima was pushing me, 3 laps, get it done then sit down and relax until the 24-hour mark.

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A few feet from the Start/Finish line, which would be my finish, at lap 27 I was at roughly 22 hours.   I wanted to make sure if I went through the finish and had the lap counted that I would not have to come back and do another.   Basically when I reached 64.25 I wanted to be done.   Finished.   My crew found the wonderful race directors Stephanie and Ken, they said absolutely when I wanted to finish, I would finish. I could go home.  MUSIC TO MY EARS.

I said, “Oh ok then” and in anti climactic fashion sauntered through the finish.   Stephanie (race director) put my medal around my neck.   Then it happened, my brain freaked.   I started melting down.   It’s as if my brain said “and we’re done”.   People were trying to take pictures of me. I tried to collect myself. I couldn’t. I was trying to block photos.   It was bizarre.   Bobbie got in my face looked me right in the eye; don’t remember what she said but it snapped me out of it. A couple photos were taken.   The best one captured my shock of what had just happened

shock

I went back to base camp, my crew had packed it all up; I didn’t have to lift a finger. They made sure I could drive home.   Then in parking lot, it hit me what just happened and I started bawling.   I had done it. My first “official” ultra and I did 64.25 miles (my 50k was an unsupported virtual for skin cancer awareness). I could not have done it without all the support I had from amazing people.

We stopped for a minute and took a selfie and I drove home:

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Trying to document 24 hours of the most painful fun I have ever had is difficult, timing is approximate because things start running together, and there was so much awesome I am sure I left things out.  Accept my apologies if thank you’s weren’t big enough or if I left something out.  After 24 hours of punishment, the brain goes a wee bit bonkers.

I also wish I could mention every runner out there on the course. I felt like we all bonded and became friends.   Truly an amazing group of people. Thank you again to Stephanie and Ken for a great race.   Thank you to the volunteers, you were all amazing.

I got home from the race and was hobbling. Immediately got my post race recovery fuel and went to the backyard and stuck my feet in my freezing cold cement pond (pool) for an ice bath.

ice bath

I couldn’t stand back up. My feet hurt. My ankles hurt. I crawled to my pool fence and pulled myself up.   I was thankful my family was not there, but then thought oh boy I may need them. In the end this was a good thing for them not to be there. It made me keep moving.

I took a nap. Maybe 2 hours? WHAT? I had been up for 27 hours and couldn’t sleep more than 2 hours. Got out of bed and was certain I was going to need crutches.   Something.   Hobbled back down the stairs and back out to the backyard for more ice bath.   This time I was able to stand up.   I kept moving and then went to the store for my post race pizza I had been dying for this whole training cycle. Bonus with my husband and son out of town I would not have to share.   Came back from the store moving fairly easily, back out to the pool again for another ice bath.

Insert bragging Mom comment here. Remember why my son and husband could not be there? My son had a hockey tournament.   They WON!

miteymite

Monday morning I got up. Moving well.   Feeling REALLY good. Easily going up and down the stairs. Went to the chiropractor, nothing out of whack.   He worked on sore ankles.   Many thanks to Dr. Easton of Dr. Easton Family Chiropractic who not only diagnosed my neck issue resulting in spine surgery ridding me of the pain, but he put me back together again. No WAY could I have done this without Doc and Martha.

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Tuesday I got up, not sore at all. Nope. Nothing. Ok, didn’t I just run 64.25 miles? C’mon at least give me some satisfactory DOMS. But you know what? This is what strong training and nutrition looks like, before, during and after a race.   I had a 90-minute sports massage Tuesday evening.   All was well, just a little tight here and there, but all good.

Wednesday morning with the blessing from family and Coach Rebecca, this happened

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To prevent from imploding I won’t say what race distance/time I signed up for, but I will say this, Jackpot thank you for one of the most memorable moments of my life.   Lord willing and the creek don’t rise…I’ll see you next year.

I’ve thanked a lot of people in this recap, but thank you is not a big enough word for what people did for me. Two people however need a special thank you. My husband Joel and son Ty. Without their support during training for this race, I would not have been able to do it.   Patience during training patters, nutritional patterns and taper madness I love you both to the moon and back. Thank you both for being my sun, moon and stars.  I love you.

 

 

 

#4Bunny

Many of you know the meaning of the hashtag, #4Bunny some do not. This post should explain everything.

This may not “flow” as it is very difficult for me to write.   There are a lot of raw emotions with this, some will be addressed, some won’t be, so if there seems to be a gap here and there, that is why.  This is also my second posting.  The first one I took down because to say I got “hate mail” is the understatement of the year….

Not to be cliché but I am going to enlist the help of one lovely lady by the name of Elsa to help tell my story. She is one of the most popular ladies lately and to be honest, her words help me…greatly. (Disney please don’t come after me with your firm fist and legalities, I just have a story to tell and need Elsa’s help…ok?)

My upcoming race has HUGE emotional significance. Will I post pictures? Maybe not. Will I write a race recap? Most likely not. It is personal, it is between Mom and I and no one else.

I am a “pleaser” to a fault. I like to bring love, comfort and happiness to people. To the point to where I have changed myself to be who I need to be for what someone wanted me to be, for them.

“a kingdom of isolation, and it looks like I’m the queen”

2012 I was told I needed to do Triathlons.   I signed up for a bunch.   I like training for them, because I am a runner and love the cross training aspect. I love triathlon. I LOVE IT, as a spectator and Coach, NOT personally as an athlete. It is not who I am. I am a runner. I love to run long, and slow, that is my happy place. But being the pleaser I am, I did what I was told and was miserable.

“Be the good girl you always have to be, conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know”

My Mom and I had a very special relationship. She was unique. Due to our life circumstances (we went through hell together more than once) we grew close. Cancer, death, homelessness, and abuse…we went through a lot together and survived together. We understood and accepted each other for who we were. She was my Mom and scared the CRAP out of me like any Mom should, but I knew 2000% she loved me no matter what. I was lucky to be able to have that 1 person I could always talk to about anything and everything, no matter what.

On August 17, 2013 I called Mom like I usually did on weekends. I had just run the Nevada State Games 5k and won my 2nd gold medal.

Note: Mom has always listened and supported. Always. No matter the situation, she wouldn’t say anything negative. She would show support, no matter what.

That day. She didn’t. For the first time in my life, she let it fly…..

“The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside, (she) Couldn’t keep it in”

She unleashed her fury on me….

Her words: When did I make someone else’s goals mine? When did I become a puppet?  She was angry, VERY angry. She pointed out the joy in my voice that day. She said I was always happy when I was running. I had been chasing and dreaming of ultra distances and suddenly stopped. She said that was when she noticed my joy disappeared.

I will spare the other details of the rest of the conversation, as it was a beautiful, wonderful conversation with Mom. One thing she did do and she was adamant about it, she would not let me hang up the phone until I made a few promises, the big one was to go after my dream of running an ultra marathon.

I promised.

This was the last conversation I would ever have with her.

That following week my world began to unravel. Mom was found on the floor in her home. She was rushed to the hospital. She was already frail from years of battling breast cancer that had spread into her lungs.

I spoke to a nurse via phone at the hospital. Her words “you need to get on a plane, now”.

I flew to North Carolina. My heart in my throat.   Mom was on a ventilator and they weren’t taking her off until I got there.

I remember running in the hallway to ICU. I went through the doors, walked into her room.   She looked at me with piercing fierce eyes and snapped her fingers and pointed at her legal pad and pen.   I handed them to her.   She wrote one word “ultra” and pointed her tiny finger at me. I giggled. My sisters and the nursing staff were puzzled. I put my hands on my hips “OK!!!! Seriously Mom. I promised! I flew 2000 miles for this??? GEEZ!”  She was unable to smile because of the equipment she was hooked up to, but the smile, was in her eyes….

After a lot of ups and downs and long sleepless nights, Mom passed away quietly on Sept 6th. The staff at Moses Cone Hospital was so good to “Miss Bunny” and my sisters and I. I will be forever grateful.

People in the running community were supportive and ran in Mom’s memory “#4Bunny”

I am going to wrap the rest of this up pretty quickly now. I just needed to capture the emotion and significance. After Mom’s funeral a “kink” in my shoulder escalated to THE WORST pain of my life. Only those who have had this know the depth of this pain. It was awful. I was in my own personal hell.

People were upset with me because I wasn’t “there” for them.   It hurt. Then it made me very angry. I did this to myself. It was that “pleasing” nature.   Never again. Never. Painful lesson learned when people turn on you when you are in despair.

“I don’t care what they’re going to say, let the storm rage on”

I’ll admit I was sunshine and roses on social media.

“don’t let them in don’t let them see be the good girl you always have to be”

That is what people expected from me.   What was really going on was more than anyone could even imagine.  I was in a dark place. A very, dark place.  I was confined to a chair.  I could not care for myself, let alone my family.  It took 8 hours for a medical staff to be able to get me to lie down for 30 seconds to get an MRI.   Every time I would try to lay down the pain had me screaming at the top of my lungs. The MRI showed many things wrong but most importantly that I had bone spurs on my spine sawing on my nerve chord.  Surgery was necessary.

My chiropractor was a huge advocate for me and was able to speed up the process and get me to surgery. 10/24/2013.   I am forever grateful.  Dr. Easton and Martha, you both have been more to me than just a chiropractic office.  Thank you.

After surgery true beautiful colors showed and a lot of people supported my family and me. They came with food, helping to care for my son and more.   This allowed me to be able to heal and recover quickly.

I also have to say my husband is a loving, supportive and patient man. He had to do everything as I couldn’t do anything. He was beside me every step of the way as I went through this hell.

Since spine surgery I have been slowly, and carefully rebuilding. My supportive friend, business partner, and coach, Rebecca supports my goals. She “gets” my training happy place. MY goals. Without her, I would not be where I am today.

“the fears that once controlled me can’t get to me at all”

For those who have seen my profile photo on Facebook, this is what it is about. My Mom’s name is Bunny. Her favorite color is purple (like me).  The promise I made is #4Bunny. On Sunday October 26, I will begin to fulfill my promise I made to Mom.

#4Bunny

As long as can….I plan to continue to fulfill that promise….

“It’s time to see what I can do, To test the limits and break through, no right, no wrong, no rules for me, I’m free!”

 

 

Broad Street Race Recap Part 4 of 4 The Race

Part 4 of 4 finally, the race recap

Ever have a morning where you wake up 30 seconds before the alarm goes off? That was me. I had my lost luggage finally, slept well, and woke up to no alarm. SCORE.  After getting ready, I snuck downstairs and had a banana and peanut butter. I placed my mother’s ring I gave her on my right hand. She was going with me this time. BIL and hubby awoke, dressed, and we were on our way. I had prepared my GenUCAN chocolate protein mixed with coffee (oh yeah baby).

On the ride to the race I teared up a little. I had a lot of messages of support , “Run for you” and “I (you) can do this”. Those two rang home the loudest.

The weather was perfect. Overcast. Low 50’s. I was wearing something warm to protect my neck (spine surgery site) prior to the start.

I was texting teammate Neeli Mann. We found each other, on opposite street corners. DOH! Thousands of people between us, we decided to try find each other at the finish, just as I was told to get off the fence I had climbed. Hey, I am short, gotta climb to see!

I had plenty of time to hit the sea of porta-johns. I then settled into my corral, very close to start time. Then the rumbling started….

Oh no.

No.

Not “that”.

I don’t do “that” outside of my home or familiar area. But boy was “that” knocking loudly. I had 5 minutes to the start and took off sprinting toward the port-johns. Pre race warm-up, right Coach Rebecca? I fought against the sea of runners like I was swimming upstream back into the sea. I luckily found one with no line and hopped in. Don’t know why but I looked into it. I know, I know, gross, but I laughed SO HARD when I saw the cell phone deep in the belly, ringing. Ain’t no one going in after that!

Back to the coral I go. Spiderman (yes, full costume) was there and stretching. Simone from New York was freezing, I enclosed us both in my hoody. Then when we started moving, I gave my hoody to my husband. It was show time.

I love this race.

I ran, comfortable. Sped up when I should, slowed down when I should. Could NOT WAIT to see cake lady.

There was a veteran, in a wheelchair. We played cat and mouse. I would tease and pass him on the uphill as he laughed at me, and in turn he would scream past me on the downhill, both of us giggling playing our “game”.

Words CANNOT describe when I arrived to the aid station by the Capital and I heard “THERE SHE IS! IT’S HER!” I got THE BEST Kidiot High Fives EVER. I felt like a rock star.  Love my fellow Idiots and Kidiots.

At about mile 7 a woman running in front of me passed out cold. Went face first onto the pavement like a falling tree. I screeched to a halt not to run over her. I stood over her and could see she was rolling over. She looked up at me “what hit me?” I said “the pavement”. She giggled. I helped her up, threw her arm over my shoulder and helped her off to the side. A paramedic on a bike was there in seconds. This race has amazing support. She gave me a high five and a thumb’s up and I was on my way.

The drum lines and local bands were AMAZING, the patients of the Children’s hospital were out in their wheelchairs cheering. And there she was, on the corner, I could hear her. “Y’ALL RUNNIN’ I GOT PIE!!!”

WHAT????!!!!

There she stood in all her Lula lookalike glory. Not with a cake, but a pie. I stopped, put my hands on my hips “WHAT? Where ‘s the cake?” she replied with the BIGGEST smile “Honey, you runnin’ slow, I ate it, I’m eatin’ pie now. Don’t you need to go run or somethin’?” She winked and smiled and waved me on. I cannot tell you how much this woman makes me smile every time I do this race.

Honestly the rest of the race was uneventful. It was just smooth, fun, and I was having fun. I could feel the finish coming and I wanted my pretzel. Did I mention they have fresh, yummy ballpark pretzels at the finish?

At mile 9 I heard my husband and brother in law yelling. I stopped, ran back and gave my husband a kiss. His being there means everything to me. I heard a guy next to me as I started back running “now that’s some motivation right there!”

I waved to the battleship as I passed it.

The finish was in the near distance and I was beaming. I did it, I ran. It was glorious. I crossed the finish and immediately ran into THE BIGGEST HUG from Neeli. She was the first person I saw when I finished.

Going through the finish area, they were out of pretzels.   Bummer.

I found my husband and BIL and we started walking in the parking lot toward the car.   A vendor was on the corner “PRETZELS!!”. My husband buys me one. I smile, the race is now complete.

This is the third time I have run this race, and of the 3 times, this is the only time they captured a race photo of me.

Broad Street, thank you. I’ll be back, and this time, I want cake.

And for those of you following the saga of “Hoppy” the bunny, alas, he was never found. On our layover in Houston, TX on the return home ”Blue” joined the family.

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Boob. Breakdowns. Broken Body. Baggage. Ballpark Pretzels and Broad Street.

Part 3 of 4. I know I said 3 parts, but geez, some times I run long. I talk a lot. Imagine that.

The continuing saga:

My husband takes off with our son to back track through the airport in hopes of finding the lost bunny. I go to stand in the whereismybagpleasetellmeyouhaveit line.

Before anyone says JACK: “You should know better and carry on your essentials” I DID. I carried on my son’s. I am a Mom. His stuff outranks mine. PERIOD. So thanks, but no thanks, for all the unsolicited advice and scolding I received.

I was soon ushered into a closet office by agent “A” I know her name, saw it on the nametag. But I refuse to throw someone under the bus. The monotone “Name”, “Address” questions were asked of me. I said out loud (mind you calmly) trying to wrap my head around a lost bag that had 2 hours to get from Plane A to Plane B, my husband and son’s bags made it, why didn’t mine? I said to A “I know you had nothing to do with this, I am just tired, but I don’t understand why my bag didn’t make it and that there is no tracking information on my bag?”

A gives me the “talk to the hand” body position and eyes wide “Honey, your energy is like whoa. You were not discriminated against. Your bag was one of 100 lost today. We don’t have a computer system that can tell us where your bag is.” * Insert scratching record sound here * Breathe. If I am number 100, 99 before me have probably ripped her a new one. Not her fault. I hear my son behind me bawling over his lost bunny.   I will not fall apart I will not fall apart I will not fall apart….tears in 3…2…1….

I got dizzy; my hearing went into a tunnel. What did she say about my energy? My bag was one of many lost today? Was I told to talk to the hand? I had mentally prepared for “I am sorry for the inconvenience” or “we’ll try to locate your bag” um…anything other than “Honey, your energy is like…whoa ”. A, honey, it’s called taper.

I stood there. In shock as a piece of paper was shoved in my face. “If we find your bag we’ll call you”. I have known a lot of people who have had lost bags on other airlines, including myself. They were given bare minimum toiletry kit to get them through the night and typically some sort of apology for inconvenience. I was given a piece of paper and a “do not call us, we’ll call you”. No apology just a gettheheckoutofmyface.

I try to be positive in social media. I do. There are enough “oh boo hoo’s” out there. I was exhausted and frustrated and said something on Facebook and Twitter.

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Well…my Twitter family (especially Mug and CinCin) came out guns blazing to my rescue. So much so a Southwest employee out of Dallas, TX saw the activity and contacted me. He took ownership of my lost bag. Wow. This is the Southwest I know, but geez…he is in TX???? Not even remotely close. But he took it, and ran with it.   I heard from no one locally. The only communication I had was from my new Twitter buddy. Thank you @SouthwestRob.

Luckily we were staying with family, I was able to sponge off them to have enough to be able to take a shower and snag some of my niece’s clothes to sleep in.   I started putting Plan B together in my head for race day. I had my IRC shirt I was wearing and most importantly my shoes. I would need GenUCAN, shorts, a sweatband and socks. I sent a quick text to a friend.   “You do realize if my bag is not found, I will be racing…. in pink.”   For anyone who knows me, they know that my message was met with maniacal laughter. I don’t “do” pink. I like it on other people, love when a bada$$ athlete wears it, but you know, me personally, not so much.

A quick trip to Target, a local running store (YAY for GenUCAN), and the expo, I collected the bare minimum to get me through to race day. Many thanks to my brother and sister in law Bill and Lisa who served as my taxi and nieces Jennifer and Jessica who loaned me their shirts, sweatshirts and PJ’s.

Thank you local teammates Neeli and Kristin who were giving me addresses and locations to find GenUCAN and offering to bring things to me. A huge thank you to Fairmont Running Company for giving me the local running club’s discount.   The running community is something else, a great big huge supportive family. Group hug.

My phone rang around 7pm. My bag had been found and was out for delivery, estimated arrival 10pm.   A humorous text conversation with a highly caffeinated delivery guy by the name of PJ, my bag was delivered, safe and sound shortly after midnight.

TYRBAG

I collapsed face first on the bed, and slept, like a rock.  I want my pretzel.

Boob. Breakdowns. Broken Body. Ballpark Pretzels…no wait BAGGAGE. Broad Street.

And so the story continues with part 2 of 3…. 

2012. Breakdowns.

I was late to the race. I wasn’t able to connect with my pacer. I was so focused I missed the cake lady on her corner. I did hear her yelling, people later told me this year it was red velvet cake, and she was sharing. Dang.

I also missed my husband and brother in law at mile 9. I crossed the finish crying. No. I was a sobbing, blubbering mess. I had not PR’d. Had not reached All American. First thing said to me by the first person I talked to after the race was “where did you go wrong?” I was crushed. I had “friends” turn on me saying they wanted no part of someone who could not succeed. One of the most painful days of my running career, ever. However, if you talked to my son, he would tell you I won.

Race recap of 2012 can be read in its entirety:

https://coachkristie.com/2012/05/09/2012-blue-cross-broad-street-run/

Mile9

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2013. Broken Body

We decided not to travel to Philly in 2013. I still entered the race, the first year of the new lottery system, and gained entry. Whew. I was able to defer to 2014. Thank goodness as my body fell APART in 2013.

What happened in 2013:

https://coachkristie.com/2013/10/18/back-into-the-ring/

neckoween

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2014. Ballpark Pretzels will have to wait. BAGGAGE.

So. Here we are. Boobs still in tact. Breakdowns, over. Long gone are my 8 minute miles. Forget All American for right now, it is about rebuilding and being able to run again.

Broken body, recovering? Kinda sorta. Coach Rebecca and I have been rebuilding me slowly and carefully. My body has good weeks and bad weeks with recovery. Thankfully the fatigue and pain is completely gone. In the last few weeks before the race there were a couple set backs.

Set back #1:                       ******BREAKING NEWS*******

Dear friends and family it is with a sad and heavy heart that I announce the passing of my dear trusty treadmill. 7 years and over 11,000 miles, it was given the dreaded “it’ll be cheaper to replace it than fix it” diagnosis. It served me well. BUT RIGHT BEFORE A RACE???? SERIOUSLY? Ok, spoiled me, I have a gym membership. The gym is open 24/7/365. The treadmills there shut off at 60 minutes.   #spoiledtreadmillrunnerproblems.

Yes, I can hear several people saying “Uh, HELLO?! Run outside?”. Hi, let me introduce myself, I am Coach Kristie, we obviously have not met….

Set back #2:

In the 2-3 (?) weeks leading up to the race I was experiencing this crazy thing with my leg.   I could run 30 minutes and then my glute would lock up and make my leg go peg straight. Think Pirate. ARRRGGGGHHHH. Makes for an interesting quick dismount on a moving treadmill. Back up and punt, I could get on an elliptical without this happening.   I was getting nervous. Didn’t tell anyone how nervous I was, but I was at near panic. You see Broad Street is a big, fast, race. You can read on the website, they are not exactly walker friendly.   Strategy was to enjoy the race and finish. Strategy change, it was to finish and not get pulled off the course. New plan: run as long as I could and walk through aid stations.

A visit to my chiropractor in the days before we were to fly out to Philly resulted in a diagnosis and solution to my “peg leg”.   My chiropractor discovered an adhesion in my neck blocking nerve signals to my leg. He taught me a vascular release that I could do while running to stop the peg leg. He also taught me a lymphatic release I could also do while running that would help drain the lactic acid from my psoas. My psoas was causing my glute to lock and my leg to rotate outward. Lots of stretching and yoga was encouraged. Cobra and Pigeon pose are my friends.   He had me practice the releases so he could make sure I had it down. This is what I feel like when I am doing them:

rubheadpattummy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Uneventful travel with on time or early flights and seamless layovers we arrive in Philadelphia. Exhausted, we have been up and traveling since o’dark thirty, mind you, with an energizer bunny of a 7 year old. We were so ready to see family and settle in for the night. As we sit and watch the suitcases circle around baggage claim, an unsettling feeling hits me. My husband and son have their bags. Where is mine? There are only 2 to 3 left going around and around and around.

I will not freak out I will not freak out I will not freak out I will not freak out

At the exact moment I am being flagged into the “lost baggage” reporting zone my son completely starts crying and freaking out as he has somewhere from plane to here, he dropped “hoppy” his stuffed bunny he received from the Easter bunny.

Long travel day + lost bag + taper madness + freaking out child = Mommy is about to lose her sh&t. It is all I can do to keep it together. I can feel myself falling apart at the seams. I tell myself. It is Southwest Airlines. They are KNOWN for fantastic customer service. It will be ok.   It will. Breathe……..

Boob. Breakdowns. Broken Body. Ballpark Pretzels. Broad Street.

Broad Street 10 Miler Race Recap- Part I of 3

2011: 1:24:05          Div. 163          Overall 5334

2012:   1:26:02        Div. 284          Overall 8977

2013:   Deferred

2014: 2:00:46          Div. 1657        Overall 30,950

2011. Boob

The untold story of 2011 Broad Street.

Yep. You heard me right. For those who know and those who don’t, I am a breast cancer survivor. I was lucky for it to be caught very early. After a successful lumpectomy, I was left, well…looking like a shark took a hunk out of me. I lived with it for years. Finally had reconstruction in 2010.

The day before leaving for Broad Street to run this race for the first time, I woke up with something missing. HOLY CRAP where did my boob go!!!!????? Yep. There she blows, GONE. Imagine adding this into the mix with taper madness. Fun huh? Not so much.

I have a “sockerstition”. I run with a new pair of experia socks every race day. This day, I wore 2. Thank you Thorlos for protecting my feet, and yes, filling in (literally) for one of the “girls” who decided to back out of this race last minute.

The course is alive with spectators, musicians. My favorite memory was of a woman (if you read the Janet Evanovich Stephanie Plum novels, picture Lula) standing on the side of the road holding a GIGANTIC chocolate cake and a fork. She was screaming at the runners “Y’ALL RUNNIN’!!!! I GOT CAKE!!!!” The next fond memory was of my husband and brother in law cheering for me at mile 9.

Had a blast running this. It was instantly my favorite race. It wasn’t until I returned home from the race and someone sent me a message telling me “DUDE, you were almost a USATF All American, you should go for it!” . So. I decided to go for it.

Picture below is just before the start of the 2011 race. Stay tuned for Race Recap Part 2 of 3.

QUIT STARING AT MY SOCKS!!!!!

 

Beat It!

Rock and Roll Las Vegas 2013 Race Recap Part II of II

Part II of II

As soon as I saw in the email I could also participate in the Half Marathon, I logged onto the RNRLV website.  There was a 4 hour cut off for the Half Marathon, 1:40 for the Half of a Half.  When walking in recovery I was easily walking well within the pace for the Half Marathon, I was straining a little for the pace required for the Half of a Half.  A quick email to my doctor (yes he is amazing and will answer emails on a Sunday- I am spoiled) and a text to my PRS FIT co-coach, Coach and friend Rebecca Adamson and it was decided, literally just hours before the start…I was going to do the Half Marathon.   My poor husband, just smiled and shook his head.  I am an Idiot (really truly Idiots Running Club Member #41 aka Prom Queen).

membershipcard

I read the back of my membership card.  The oath of the Idiots.  Dumb thing, check.  I planned to laugh, have fun, and not take the event too seriously.  I decided, to have a blast.  As a Coach for PRS FIT our philosophy is “Be Healthy, Train Smart, Have Fun”.  So “Have Fun” was going to be my race plan.  Plain and simple.

Pre-race fuel one hour prior to the start I had 1 scoop of GenUCAN protein with 8 oz of almond milk.

My husband and son drove me and dropped me at the location of the corrals.  Let’s just say I am spoiled, he has connections and is able to get through the road blocks and drop me off right at the start.  Did I mention I am spoiled?

I had plenty of time to hit the porta potty lines and get to my corral.  In a last minute decision I decided to carry my phone with me.  My apologies to anyone who I told I would not have my phone on me, it was truly a last minute decision. I had 2 athletes racing and wanted to keep up with runner tracking.  Also, in the event my neck went on strike and I ended up in a med tent, I wanted to be able to call my husband.

In my corral 3 things started conversation with those around me:

1-     My “Cancer Survivor” Bondi Band.  I am a 12 time survivor.  Every day is a victory. (This photo is from earlier this year)

bondisurvive

2-     The quote on the back of my shirt.

backofshirt

3-     My Frankenstein scar on the back of my neck

I cannot count the number of people who asked if they could take pictures of the back of me (including my neck and shirt).  A local news videographer did too, however, I didn’t make the highlight reel, oh well.

I was at the back of my corral and to the far right.  I know the course well and was going with runner etiquette.   I would hug the curb so as not to get run over and block those behind me.  I also was able during conversation to warn the front of the corral behind me I was walking and my plan.  I was afraid of hecklers, I received applause and complete support instead.

The first mile was the hardest as I felt like I was standing with my back to a massive wave as it surged against me.   People were emerging on either side of me (even though I was hugging the curb).  But once I made it past mile 1 I was in the clear and it was smooth sailing from here on out.

One thing about RNRLV that is so special is the crowds. WALLS of them.  Cheering, the signs, the costumes, cow bells.  I decided to give a high five everyone that wanted one.  Later on this would turn out not to be my best idea.

I felt great. I kept checking my pace to keep it around the 16 minute pace.  I knew this would reduce impact on my neck and was my comfort area.  If I went any faster I would risk my neck acting up and ending up in a med tent calling my husband to get me.

At about mile 4.5 I realized I needed to check my phone to see the splits for my athletes.  Tracking was only working on one of them, great. The one that was working, was telling me they were SMOKING the course, I needed to get my butt to the left lane at the the median (I was on the far right) because he was going to be passing on the other side any minute.

I was walking.  Everyone was running.  I didn’t want to be “that girl” and walk in front of people.  I was using as much etiquette as possible in this race.  I looked to my left, and as if I had magic powers, I had a clear path open completely from right to left.  I took off and made it from right to left without running, and disturbing the oncoming runners.  Whew.

I started scanning the runners on the other side.  Saw friend Jorge surging by and screamed a cheer for him.  Perfect timing.  Still, I was searching.  Then, I spotted the IRC shirt coming.  BOOM!  Perfect timing, it was Paul (you can find a photo of Paul in Recap Part I).  Screamed a cheer, he looked up and saw me.   Perfect timing again.  Ok, now for me to charge on and finish this race and hope my other athlete (whose tracking was not working) was doing well.

That athlete was racing the full marathon for an amazing cause.  She had been feeling under the weather, and the heavy hand of it started coming down on her, hard.  She called me several times. Throughout the race I kept urging her on to finish for that cause.  One foot in front of the other.   (Teri Radke is a strong athlete and went on to fight tooth and nail and finish the marathon strong- that is her in the pink shirt below).

Teri4Kalob

After turning around from downtown and heading back toward the finish around mile 9 the crowds were really getting rowdy in a good way.  I was still giving out high fives.  I had one person call me out “Cancer Survivor I got a high five for ya here!” She was smiling, I went over and she hit my hand like a baseball bat hitting a ball out of the park for the winning home run.  At that moment I felt intense pain shoot from my arm straight through to my neck.

Oh. Sh&t.

Etiquette aside, I now moved to the center to avoid high fives.  It would have to be “thumbs up” from here on out.

RNRLV13

Mile 11 my heart was moving to my throat.  I was going to do this.  I was going to finish.  End this year on a high note.

Mile 12 The tears started welling up in my eyes.   Everything leading up to this day is why I was here, why I would finish this.  I was wearing purple in Memory of my Mom.  #4Bunny

Mile 13 my face hurt from smiling.  I could see the finish.

I crossed the finish and the tears started rolling down my face. Just three weeks post spinal neck surgery.  I did it.  My slowest Half Marathon ever.  In memory of my Mom. My most enjoyable, memorable, and most amazing race to date.  This was my 5th year in a row racing RNRLV and for the the 5th year in a row I was greeted at the finish by my husband and son.  I cannot tell you how much it means to me to have them there.   Their love and support is my world.

Post race my #1 focus was going to be full and complete recovery from surgery.  I was ready to get back to being active and able to play with my son.

In the couple days after I was feeling good.  Really good.  My neck was sore, but not more than the usual during recovery.  Then while on a walk with my husband the pain became intense, bringing me to tears.  After review my new symptoms and dissecting the race with my surgeon we came to the realization my exuberant high five lady may have done some damage.  I was put on rest, no more walking and I am to report all symptoms to my surgeon daily.

On November 21 I developed fever and further complications.

I seem to take 1 step forward and 2 steps back. I saw something recently that I am going to think of daily to try stay positive through this frustrating time:

“Optimism is looking at a step forward and a step back, not as going backwards, but just as doing the Cha Cha.”

I’ve never been a dancer, but I am getting pretty good at the Cha Cha.

I have a lot of restrictions and a long and slow recovery ahead of me.  I have been told to expect not to be able to lift weights for 8 months.  I may be able to run again in 6, the key word being may.   I have been told a lot of things that I cannot do.

I started this blog January of 2012 with the post “Mantra”.  I now know more than ever my mantra will carry me through the remaining part of 2013 and for all of 2014.

“Tell me what I can’t do, I’ll show you what I can

My most sincere thanks to the following:

Idiots Running Club, for reminding me to laugh until it hurts and be thankful for this thing called the “run”.

Training Peaks, Raw Elements, and Coolibar. Thank you all for continuing to support me, even in this less than stellar race year.

True friends for “being there” for me during this rough year.

Most importantly my husband and son.  You two are my rock, my world.  I love you.