WESTERN STATES HERE HE COMES

After three years of training over thousands of miles and running qualifying races (from 100km to 100 miles), Nick has made it into Western States!!!!!! Western States is (arguably) the most competitive and oldest Ultra Run in the US, selecting 261 entrants, 50 on waitlist, out of the nearly 5000 that enter the Western States lottery. To enter the lottery, you need to successfully complete a qualifying race to get a lottery ticket. I'm so excited for my love!!!!

After running for a total of ~27 hours (16 hours in the rain) with trench foot, Nick completed his 100 mile RIO del Lago November 2017

After completing MIWOK's 100 km race March 2017 through the redwood forest

 Nick is a proud member of Quicksilver Running Club. :)

How to train a runner: Inaugural Run

Certificate Of Completion Dara Moss HAS COMPLETED THE 10K With an official time of: 1:08:12 Overall Place: 3638 of 5551 Gender Place: 1393 Division Place: 212 Overall Pace: 10:59 Silicon Valley Turkey Trot November 23, 2017 

The BEFORE photo

On a cool 56 degree F day in San Jose, I set off on my first official run since the 10K Cystic Fibrosis Walkathon of 1998. My wonderful cousin organized family representation in the Turkey Trot. While my cousins were completing the three mile walk, I opted for the six mile run since they both cost the same amount of money.

 Given my total inability to run since 2004 because of knee injury, this was certainly a challenge. I did 3-4 mile training runs once a week leading up to the Turkey Trot and a 6 mile hike with my cousin a few days before the run. My knee complied for the first couple training runs and then started asserting its painful opinion closer to the race.

My goal: To survive the run. If I had to walk? I would walk.

 I was also running with my Ultra man, who recently completed a 100 mile trail run. He "ran" [light jog] next to me the entire time, jumping over orange cones, high-fiving nearby runners- including police cadets, while I huffed and puffed my way to the finish line.

For Nick, 9 miles is a warm-up. A six mile flat loop throughout San Jose was a walk in the park. As you can see in the photographs, he looks refreshed before and after the race. I, however, am a hot mess. Literally.

The AFTER photo

DNF= Did Not Finish. I was concerned about completing the run on time. If I passed the cut-off time, I might have received a DNF. Which means that Nick would have received his FIRST DNF! He ran a 100 miler and DNF'd two weeks later in a light 6 mile jog. :) How could he explain that to his Quicksilver Running Club?
After I finished running, my knee, which had a painful twinge from mile 2 onwards, submitted a declaration to me.
" Dear Dara,
I have kept you stable for 12 years and this is what you do to me? Respectfully, I submit my demand: I refuse to move another inch. You had to sprint to the finish line? Really? I will taking at least two days off to recover. Please ice me, take ibuprofen, and leave me alone.
Thank you.
Love, your knee"

So here I lie. On my bed. My knee continues to yell at me.

Perhaps I was too ambitious and running is not for me?

The Love Affair of Books

         "Mom!" my 12-year-old self pleads upon approaching the car where mom is sitting to pick me up from school.
         "What is it?" she asks with concern, staring into eyes she describes as "honey-nutmeg-colored."
          "It's an emergency!" I urge. "I need a book!"
          My mother ardently states, "Then we simply MUST go to the bookstore! It IS an emergency, after all! I can't have my girl deprived of a book!"
          My mother understands me.
          So when I call her today, 20+ years later, to tell her that I stopped at Barnes&Noble for an emergency book, she shares her approval wholeheartedly.
          If this love affair for books is genetic, I received it from my mother.
          I have always loved books. As a child, I would sneak into the bathroom at night to read by the half-light of a nightlight. I cleverly concealed my disappearance using my Pleasant Company doll, Samantha, whose hair color was remarkably similar to mine, and pillows to fill in the body. My father caught me once. I could hear him say, "Goodnight sweetheart!" and then "Wait a minute. This isn't you.." My giggles in the bathroom revealed my location.
         Since sneaking into the bathroom proved unsatisfactory, I used a flashlight under the covers. If encroaching foot steps sounded, I could quickly turn off the flashlight. Clever, huh?
         My mom has always known what I was up to.
         While pretending to study in my room, I would read one of my chosen books instead. "What are you doing?" She would ask. "Nothing," I assured her. "You wouldn't, by chance, be reading a book would you?" Caught. We would both laugh together.
          How could I hide my addiction from a fellow book lover? Impossible. She has always provided me with books and an ample supply of booklights.
         In middle school, I fit the exact description for "nerd" that so many movies attempt to capture. I had the glasses, braces, and was overweight. I was shorter then everyone in my class, but had big feet. The sock trend at the time transitioned from the socks you fold up to the socks that are hidden by the shoe. I didn't realize kids were wearing socks...which is a shame, thinking back to the smell of my sock-less wearing shoes. I looked like a clown and smelled like a locker.

I was gawky and very much a loner. What better way to escape then books? School provided me the perfect setting to engage in my love of books! I would spend nearly every brunch and lunch breaks consuming books as avidly as those delightful blue raspberry Airheads.
        High School rolled around and I found the perfect job- one that would match my love of books! I got the "job" of working in the library for four years. [A big shout out to Ms. M, who encourages and supports my love of books and actually reads my blogs. You rock, Ms. M!]
       The challenge I faced in my high school English classes was that I would rather read my books than do anything else. After completing assignments, I would pull out my "home book" and read. My English Language teacher summed it up in her yearbook quote to me. Something along the lines of: "Dear Dara, you were the only student who ever had the gall to read books in front of me...in the front row. I'll miss you." In my defense, I completed the assignments first. I love books so much that I dedicated multiple writing assignments to this very topic!
         In this day and age when people are opting for electronic books, I still prefer my real books. I understand the benefits of electronic books, particularly for school. Instead of hefting a 15 lb Pathophysiology textbook three miles uphill in Baltimore, a textbook which was never used  (except as a weight and drink holder) because the professor rightfully decided it was inadequate, I could have had the ease of an online book- accessible and lightweight. Yet, still expensive.
         When it comes to personal reading choices, I choose books. I am an outdoorsy and somewhat clumsy individual. I drop books. I get water on them accidentally, single-handedly destroying 2 math textbooks in middle schools because of open water bottles. I really really READ them... My mom can always tell if I've read her book by its state. Are the pages bent or folded? Does it look like the book has seen an adventure of its own? If the answers are yes, then she knows I have read her book. If ever she offers a book we will both read to me first, I typically decline because it will not come back pristine. I love the texture, smell, and energy of a real book. And despite the urging of technologically savvy individuals to modernize my archaic book sensibilities, I decline. My books don't lose battery power.
          I like to read wherever I am. I can read walk far more efficiently then people attempt to text and walk. I have never read-walked myself into a pole, pool, or person. Nor have I tripped over curbs while read-walking. I enjoy reading on public transportation- from Australian trams to Fijian buses. And how could I have successfully navigated alone through Thailand without my language book?
           If Dr. Seuss wrote Green Eggs and Ham about books, my version would be: 
            I could read them here, I can read them there. 
            I love my books everywhere.
            I have read them in clubs, I have read them in a tubs,
            I have read them on planes, I have read them on trains,
            Oh I do love my books you see
            I have even read in a tree
            I have read so many books
            Even those written by cooks
           I really do love books. When I walk into a bookstore, I feel like I'm at home.

A photograph with Bob, the resident of Recycle Bookstore in Campbell California

            I have made my home in bookstores across the United States, in Australia, and England. I love the smell, feel, and ambiance of bookstores. The local bookstores particularly warm my heart, and tend to be locations that yield the greatest treasures. For example, I found a Practical Manual of Mental Medicine from 1894 at Book Bazaar Inc in Sarasota Florida which presents a somewhat frightening portrait of medical practices at the time. Fascinating!
             I love all types of books. Each book provides insight into the writer's or writers' heart(s). Writers have the power to take a person out of this world into an alternate universe, like A Brave New World. They can transcend social barriers, as Mary Shelley, or highlight disparities, as Harriet Beecher Stowe in Uncle Tom's Cabin.
              Books make a difference in people's lives. The Barnes & Noble in Santa Clarita was selling books today to be donated to children at the local Children's Hospital, for example.
             I am grateful to all the writers out there, bringing emotional catharsis to readers, especially me. I am a most ardent lover of books. Alexandre Dumas: you are amazing. You are the Count of Monte Cristo! Alexandra Potter: you inspire me to laughter and tears. Susan Wiggs: you wield stories that touch my heart. Stephen King and RL Stine, you ignite my fear. I love it all.
               Whenever I am lost, I always find myself in a bookstore.

Life of an Ultra Runner...you had toe nails once...

The physical ramifications for being an ultra runner are numerous...
[*Warning: this may be too graphic for sensitive readers]
How can you identify an ultra runner away from trails? If they are wearing flip flops/sandals, look at their toes...particularly after a race.
Ultra runners wear their battle scars on their feet, particularly their toes. Some issues may be unavoidable the longer you run, but this much I have seen: your toes turn black/blue and the nails...well...they develop blisters underneath them that gradually pop. Goodbye toe nails.
Some tricks of the trade include lubing up the feet, or if the conditions are too wet- drying powder. There are special toe socks, Injinji, that keep the toes separated, delaying (to some degree) development of blisters in between the toes. They take a long time to don, which makes it challenging if you are trying to change the socks at mile 50.
There are socks with extra padding, offering winter warmth and additional support.
Regardless of your socks, Ultra Runners lose their toe nails. It happens. If you are an Ultra Runner's  partner, accept and love their feet. Their feet are trophies, attesting to conditions from running 100 miles+ in training or a race.

Friends have stated, "it is very unhealthy running that distance."
In my opinion, it is only unhealthy if you do not train properly, if you don't listen to your body while running, if you don't provide your body with proper nourishment before, during and after your runs, and if you have preconditioned medical conditions and have been issued a doctor's advisement against participation in running.
This will be a later blog topic.

How to Train a Runner: Push them past their comfort zone

One year ago, Nick told me that he would run with me IF I had my knee looked at by a doctor...
One surgery and ten months of rehabilitation later, we decided to test my knee for my first run. While I suggested jogging on my own, Nick insisted on joining me for the inaugural run. We walked one mile, ran 2.5, and walked one home for a grand total of....4.5 miles. Hurray! As my goal was really only running ONE mile, not 100 like my sweetheart, I was pleased with 2.5. My ultra runner sent positive encouragement and told me he could be my "rabbit"- meaning run in front of me and set the pace. I told him I preferred him next to me. :) This is a short run, after all, not an ultra.

But was my survival on this run a fluke?

I decided to run my old three-mile loop I ran in high school through the hills of Granada Hills with similar results! Huffing and puffing, but knee in good shape!

This afternoon, I discovered that SHOES REALLY DO MAKE A DIFFERENCE....
 I forgot my pair of Ultra(Nick)-Approved Hoka and settled on an old, but barely worn pair of Columbia hiking shoes I found in my closet. I decided to be ambitious: why not try the 6 mile loop in my neighborhood? I could run the flats and down hills, and walk the up hills. My knee did not enjoy the loop....But I am thinking it's because the shoes lacked the necessary support that would have made my run-walk more successful. I managed 4.5 miles....maybe 3 of which was spent "running"/jogging.

Meanwhile, I need to learn from the pros. As I appear now, I am a runner from the late 1990s...old sweat shorts, baggie t-shirt, sweatshirt wrapped around my waste, aviators, Columbia hiking shoes, and large iphone 4 hanging onto my pocket so I could listen to music...

To be a runner, I will need to transform my look. Goodbye heavy clothes. Hello lightweight, but warm running clothes...even though they may be tight and I may feel like a fraud...So long iPhone 4 musical device...Hello "some musical device" that could be small, waterproof, and effective. That "some" is a big question mark since technology past the 1990s makes me uncomfortable....

Something to move forward from! It's time to get past my comfort zone.

The Ultra Ghost (who lives in my apartment)

After moving into my apartment, I discovered something terrifying. Although it is past Halloween and Dia de Los Muertos, I feel compelled to share this tale.

It all started when I moved in....
...in walking distance to Baskin Robbins'....
I have an affinity towards their chocolate peanut butter ice cream..Conveniently enough, the store has a deal! Two quarts for $10.99. That would take me at least two months alone to eat...

Night One

I awaken from sleep one night to hear a rumbling in the kitchen. I disregard the rumble and go back to sleep. The next morning, I discover an empty container of my recently purchased Baskin Robbins'. How is this possible?

Night Two
Another rumble. Next morning, another empty container.
This must be a mistake! Who could be eating my ice cream?

The case of the missing ice cream continues for six months until I have to concede: I have a ghost living in my apartment that only comes out at night and eats all my ice cream.

I try other types of ice cream. It is to no avail. My ice cream loving ghost devours it while I sleep. I try love notes to deter the ghost. This fails.

Meanwhile, Nick trains for his hundred miler. The harder he trains, the stronger the ghostly presence persists in the middle of the night.

This time, I am prepared. Nick just finished his hundred miler. I might as well offer a blessed sacrifice of ice cream for the ghost. After all, there may be unwanted consequences of not alleviating the ghost's cravings...He may go for my stash of hidden chocolate instead!

You had me at Bikram Yoga....

Once upon a time at a Peet's Coffee and Tea in Santa Clara California, I met my future husband Nick....

I just finish teaching one yoga class in Santa Clara. I have another class to teach in a few hours. I will use these precious few hours in between classes to study for the dreaded NCLEX- an examination to transform education into a certification as a registered nurse. I cannot afford distractions. I will avoid the perfect sunshine and seventy-five degree day with clear skies in Northern California. I escape the perfect weather and enter the nearest Peet’s Coffee Shop. I am getting over a cold, so temporarily not drinking coffee. I shall purchase tea, find a place in this crowded store to study, and then dedicate two hours to studying. I revise my battle plan upon spotting a stool overlooking the sidewalk. This will strategically place my back to the coffee machine. A perfect, distraction-free spot. I immediately claim it, lest some other students in the long line beat me to it.

Okay Dara, you need to study…”What would you like to drink?” a young, dimpled man asks me. “You have a great smile!” I tell him. When someone has dimples, it is absolutely essential to tell them what a great smile they have.  A blonde haired man at the coffee machine (Nick) hears me speaking with the young man. He turns around and smiles at me. Well hmm.. I didn’t expect this. “You have a great smile too?!” I say.  

This man (Nick) prepares my tea while I get set-up to study. In a blur, I hear my tea is ready. “Thanks.” I say casually to the coffee guy. He advises me on how long to keep the tea bag in the water, and provides me with a lid to place the tea bag for further water. He really does have a nice smile, but I need to focus.

I start studying…as best I can under the circumstances. This tea is great. Youtube is wonderful too. No no. Must study. I drink my tea too quickly. Good thing I listen to the coffee guy. I sidle over to the counter with my empty cup and ask for more hot water. I walk back to my seat and the coffee guy catches my attention: “You do Bikram’s yoga!” he states. 

As a cartoon character's head could spin 360 degrees, so too does my attention. "Yes I do!" I proclaim enthusiastically.  How does he know this?? Apparently, he saw the tiny tear-dropped-shape icon on my key chain from Bikram Yoga San Jose,

“I practice Bikram’s yoga in San Jose,” he volunteers. My mouth drops open, aghast. “Me too!” I exclaim. We continue speaking for a few minutes.

This is bad. I need to study. This blonde haired man with a great smile is a distraction. I try to focus on acid/base balance, but keep thinking of questions to ask him. I mean, what are the chances of meeting a fellow Bikram Yoga practitioner who happens to practices at the SAME studio I have been visiting on-and-off for seven years every time I visit my sister?

Study, Dara. Study. Metabolic acidosis…can happen if you don’t do yoga…coffee guy does yoga…Focus! Respiratory alkalosis…an unfortunate condition…rather be talking about yoga with coffee guy.

I give up studying. I cannot possibly continue knowing that this man is my new best friend! I walk up to the coffee machine to further discuss yoga with coffee guy. “Yeah, I’m going to the 4:30pm class in San Jose," he advises. “Wait, what?!” I ask. He adds, “I get off work at 3:45, so going to drive there.” 

“Wait, wait, wait. I am TEACHING yoga down the street at 4:30. Why don’t you come take me class! Try a new studio.” I sense hesitation. I am on a mission now. He simply MUST take my class. I rarely meet people who practice my style of yoga, let alone a male...particularly a handsome blonde with redwood colored eyes and a devastating grin. 

“Listen, you don’t really want to drive 30 minutes to take yoga. I am teaching RIGHT DOWN THE STREET- 5 minutes from here. Come take my class. You'll love it.” He finally agrees that he will come.

I leave Peet’s coffee in order to get to the studio early. Perhaps coffee-guy is going to do the stereotypical California thing.. the royal stand up, I think. 

I set up the studio. Class is at 4:30. It’s 4:15. Many others have shown up. Not coffee guy.

I must face this. Dara, he is not coming. You will not be disappointed because you didn’t really expect him to show up. Maybe he got lost. No, he is standing you….

"Hello!” he says enthusiastically coming to the check-in desk.

 I will admit I was terribly wrong. “I didn’t think you were going to come!” Did I say it aloud?  

“You were right! It is only 5 minutes from Peet’s," he says.

 “I’m so happy you came!” I say. 

He signs the waiver and I quickly tell him where everything is.

4:29. Class time! I walk into the room, stand on the podium, and spy coffee-guy..without his shirt. 

It’s just ONE class, Dara......

Pimp My Race

The Before Photo of my fiance Nick

I  met a man at Burning Man who had a unique tent. The tent looked like a simple, large, white-colored average tent from the outside. On the inside, however, the tent was a palace, much like what one would expect to see on Aladdin. The floor was covered in thick, Persian rugs. The bed was a four-poster wooden bed. He had running appliances, including a fridge. To top it off, he had constructed his own shower. Running water in the middle of the desert? That certainly is an oasis.

How to pimp an ultra run? Let's start with your own, personal, large changing tent, care of REI. This year, all the warriors who ran Rio del Lago a Western State qualifier, did so in pouring rain, up and down mountains of rock requiring technical skills. So having the option to change clothes is wonderful. Having the option to do so in your own, personal tent? That makes this a five star experience! All that was missing was a propane heater. :)

https://www.rei.com/product/101407/kelty-blockhouse-privacy-shelter

The gentleman featured to the left is from Sacfit Running Club, a unique club welcoming those of varying abilities, where even I, with my first 3 mile run under my belt, would be welcome. I stray from point. This gentleman kindly set up this tent and had a special stool with which to sit. He gave me permission to post this photo.

True to ultra form and ultra camaraderie, he offered my fiance the use of the tent. Nick, however, declined. He did use the stool and is very grateful to David and Kathy for this.

A number of other ultra families/crew members had erected different structures to make mile 44 and 74 more inspiring! One had constructed a shelter and had enclosed a cot with blankets and food. The cot was more then likely set up for the crew member, patiently awaiting their runner for 2-3 hours at a time.

Nick's dad and me are his crew. This is the first 100 miler I have crewed Nick for, so I learn intricacies from his dad, such as how to set up his gear. We have hours of entertainment. The more tired we become, the more entertainment in the form of mathematical calculations we have, estimating Nick's arrival time in correlation with sleep time.

This is Nick with his dad, looking very refreshed at mile 45

As Nick continues running all day and night through the mud and the rain, he begins to develop bilateral foot pain. 'It's probably a blister,' he tells himself. 'I can just run it off,' he assures himself. He makes it to Team Nick, located in his dad's truck next to the suave-looking-tent-featured-above, at approximately 11:15 pm. Mile 74. Hour 18+.

"My feet kind of hurt," he tells me. I encourage him to take off his shoes, as we had clean, dry socks and a change of shoes. "I think I should just keep going," he tells me."I'm kind of afraid to see what they look like," he adds. I didn't realize what he was afraid of until he finished the race, hours later: he may have seen something that would end his race. All the time, energy, and dedication could have been lost.

Runners Superstition: if you change your shoes, that could be bad luck. If you sit down or seek medical attention, that could be the end of your race.

At my urging- I'm a nurse so can you blame me?- he sits down and takes off his shoes and socks.

I know what the problem is instantly. This is not a blister. This is a deadly killer resurrected from World War I: Nick has Trench Foot. His feet have extreme pallor, are cool, and pruned. His right foot is bisected down the middle with a three inch non-bleeding but deep laceration, and his left foot has a problem developing over the right part of his foot. This is no good. I tell him what's wrong with his foot and tell him he is going to require medical intervention at some point. "I won't go to a doctor," he assures me. "You will require medical intervention though at some point," I advise. My sweet warrior has been running through rain and mud for 16 hours at this point. 

He doesn't want to waste any more time. See? Warrior!
We (Nick's dad and me) dry off his feet as best we can, get him into dry socks and shoes, and he continues on his way.

9 miles later at Rattlesnake Bar, his feet are really hurting him. His feet look slightly improved from mile 74, but the pain is too much. There is a medical aid tent and the nurse cleans and patches him up so he can finish his race.

And does his finish? Yes he does! His feet don't allow him to run as much as he would like, but he does finish his 100 mile race! Because that is what Ultra Runners do. They persevere.

Meanwhile, I nearly fail as his crew member. While his dad waits for Nick in his truck at the finish line, I go to my nearby hotel to sleep for two hours...and I sleep through my alarm...for two hours. The glorious sunlight through the windows jars me out of my coma and sends me running for the car to get to the finish line in time. Nick's dad had also slept through his alarm but assures me Nick hasn't crossed the finish line yet. Perfect! I make it to the finish line...three minutes too late to hear his name. Darn it! I am elated that his dad witnessed it and has taken a photograph of Nick.  I learned Crew Lesson 101: if you take a quick nap, make sure you set multiple LOUD alarms. Nick is happy I am with him and gives me a big hug. I am happy to be with him, and to celebrate his amazing success. 

The Finish line

Nick perseveres for 27+ hours without sleep for 100.5 miles. He amazes me.

[Some ailments are non-negotiable: GI related issues (nausea, vomiting, diarrhea), falls leading to injury (fractures), etc. If Nick hadn't changed his socks and shoes at mile 74, the trench foot would probably have hindered his success. Thankfully, it didn't.]

Congratulations to all the Rio Del Lago Ultra Runners! You are all truly warriors!

Fix or Sell

A rare event...a clean Luna

Have you ever seen the Subaru commercials advertising the adventurous and outdoorsy nature of a Subaru? Commercials cannot properly capture the reality of how awesome a Subaru can be!

A view from the shield

Introducing my Luna. She is a Subaru Baja. Named after the moon to protect me when driving at night, she has been in my life since 2005. She has taken me all over the United States (multiple times), Quebec (twice), and New Brunswick. She has braved nearly every weather system. From driving through the heart of a lightning storm in South Dakota, to driving across the frozen lands of Quebec during a snow storm in less-than-adequate all wheel tires (instead of requisite snow tires). Off-roading desert adventures, driving along historic routes (including 66 and following Billy-the-Kid's trail), visiting historic sites (from Hurst Castle to Monticello), visiting beaches (Santa Barbara to island of Okracoke), camping in various national parks, braving snow storms in Colorado, sleet in Maryland, rain in Virginia, severe windstorms in Kansas, and endless California sunshine days, Luna has had quite the life! We've practically driven through every major city in the United States, learned the art of parallel parking in Baltimore, the financial nightmare of bridges, parking, and tolls of New York City, parking tricks in New Haven, Savannah, and New Orleans, and how to blend in enough to not get broken into.

At 204,990 miles or so, her age is starting to reveal itself. Probably not age...more a reflection of the driving and environments she's been exposed to. My auto mechanic says, "For 200,000+ miles, your car looks great!" She still maintains the majority of her original features.  While California provides the ideal weather for preserving cars, a snow storm in Baltimore succeeded in killing Luna's original battery after 10 years of operation. Impressive, huh? Snow storms have contributed to some unfortunate rust-action.

Regardless, she is reliable and well built. Truly the best car any person could wish for. 

I found an article online explaining how Subaru Bajas were considered "flops" when they initially came out and yet have had a continued interest amongst buyers. Over the years, I received offers from every dealership I ever visited on my road trips- California, Colorado, Virginia. "If you ever want to sell it, it won't even make it to the floor. The list for these cars is so long," I was told. Years ago, one man in a dodgy gas station brazenly propositioned me for my car "I give you $300 now for your car." Um. NO. More recently, I received a note on my car once from my friend's husband in Virginia asking if I would consider selling him my car. While flattered, I declined. I mean, how would I get back to California? 

Now I am posed with the question: is it worth saving Luna by investing (what I would consider significant) funds into fixing its exhaust system and other parts (arms, bar links, struts, tie rod ends) or sell it for what I can and buy a new one?

I guess what I am discovering as I write this is that she is one-of-a-kind. 

How to train a runner: watch from the sidelines

The doorbell just rang and a box arrived. Perhaps they are flowers for me? Oh no. They are the newest shoes to Nick's extensive shoe collection. How many shoes does it take to train for 100 miles? 4 shoes officially with 3 back-up pairs....Nine running shoes.
Nick's next race is in November.
His new shoes, Hoka of course, are "super cushy..getting me ready for the big dance."
I'm currently working night shifts and Nick runs days. Today he made the tremendous sacrifice for a training competitor: he slept in. He won't be so lucky tomorrow. I am kicking him out of the house and encouraging him to run his 10+ miles. Next week, he ups his game to 20+ miles a day.
As I type this, I hear him in the background counting: "1, 2, 3, yeah I think 9 pairs...for running."
He is caressing his newest addition and even shows me previous orthotic insoles to highlight the superiority of the new kid on the block. Little did I know, that this new pair is one of three new pairs... Where does he hide them all? He breaks the shoes down "they blow out, they wear out" so frequently that he has to replace them... Our closet is a revolving door for shoes.
Welcome new shoes. We have a safe home for you.
Meanwhile, my running career has yet to start. Instead of baby steps, I jumped into full-power-speed-walking-while-I-work-in-an-Emergency-Department mode. My knee has expressed dissatisfaction at my life choices. Perhaps I should stick with yoga. Nick asked me when I would start running. I may try after I complete this assignment. May.

How to train a runner: HIRE A FREE ULTRA RUNNER TO TRAIN YOU

What the Heck is an Ultra runner?

When I first started dating my boyfriend, Nick, he casually told me that he is an Ultra Runner.
“So you run marathons,” I assumed.

“The runs are a bit longer than marathons, but yes. Anything over the distance of a marathon is an Ultra.” Anything OVER 26.2 miles. Who better to train me to run then an Ultra Runner? I hired Nick to train me for free.

According to Nick, the vast running population run shorter distances. Ultra Running is comprised of only ~1% of the running population.

To really truly understand and appreciate the dedication of an Ultra Runner is to attend a race, visit the different aid stations to see the runners run through, and watch them cross the finish line. It requires extreme time, dedication, passion, endurance, and strength to succeed in a race, particularly 50 milers, 100 km, and 100+ milers.

Ultra Running is a way of life requiring months/years of training- not just in running but in all aspects of life including: maintaining a healthy lifestyle with good nutrition, learning and adjusting fluids and electrolytes to meet increasing training demands, researching technical skills to improve race time, and volunteering before/during/after races clearing trails, or whatever their running club requires to qualify for races.

Not anyone can just sign up to run 100 mile race. Most of the popular 100 mile races held in national/state parks only permit a certain amount of runner passes. The race will hold a lottery for those who have run qualifying races.  Some of the passes are given to notable running clubs who have lottery systems for distribution requiring specific volunteer requirements for entrants.  Runners cross their fingers that their number will be called in the lottery system for that race. Western States Endurance Run in Squaw Valley California, for example, is the oldest 100 mile run in the world. Due to its prestige and popularity, it is very difficult to get selected for this run. According to their website, the US Forest Service limits them to 369 runners. In 2017, they had 4248 applicants. A runner must successfully run a qualifier, successfully get a ticket, and pay ~$410 for the entry fee. http://www.wser.org/

My Advisement for possible communication differences with an Ultra Runner

 1) Nick’s perception of distance is somewhat skewed. And by somewhat, I mean EXTREMELY skewed.

He took me for a “little hike” three months after surgery to “strengthen my legs.” At three months, I was fully weight bearing and still had significant muscle loss. 

10 miles later, I found myself huffing and puffing, glaring at my atrophied leg, sitting in the mud while other Muir Wood area tourists strolled by sending me sympathetic looks.

One day, four months post-op, he takes me to his favorite running spot, Quicksilver, which I lovingly refer to as Nicky’s Playground. Nick is running and I am hiking at opposite ends of a looped trail. We agree to rendezvous on the path. After climbing a mountain behind avid stroller moms treading up without any difficulty, I get a little bit lost. Realizing my one mile uphill detour is inaccurate, I turn around and head back the same way I had come. Although not on the agreed path, Nick finds me easily. At this point, it’s mile 4 for me. We walk down the trail and I am tired. Perhaps it’s from being out of shape or my muscles not being strong enough, but I am tired! I ask him how much further along the path is.

“Oh, we’re almost there. It’s just a couple minutes more.”

 By a couple minutes, he means 2 miles.

I have learned the hard way that Nick’s idea of mileage is not how others would define it.

For example, when he says, “I went for a little run” this could mean anywhere from 10-20 miles.

           While training for MIWOK, he came across a few rangers on his running trail. One asked him how far he ran, and he responded, “Not too far. Just a little one today.” The ranger continued inquiring about the trails and he indicated the distance of the water tower. “That looks very far,” the ranger had said.

“It’s only about 26 miles.” So a “short” run for Nick is a marathon.

This was our conversation tonight:

“How far did you run today?” I asked.

“Oh, just a few miles.”

“7?” I ask.

“10.7…I am out of shape!” he insists. He ran MIWOK, a 62 mile run, a month ago and since then took a few weeks off of serious running. Instead, he’s been doing more yoga. Today is his first serious day running since MIWOK.

“This is on top of the 5 miles we hiked together?” I asked.

“5.3, yes.”

“So that’s what, 15 miles total?”

“16.”

He’s out of shape? Says the man who woke up at 3:30 am for work, worked 9 hours, hiked 5.3 miles, ran 10.7 uphill in the mountains, made dinner, and waited up to see me after I finished work at 10:40 pm? I think not.

So now MY perception of “normal running” is skewed! To juxtapose the seriousness of this, one day the entire neighborhood of Willow Glen shut down for the annual 5 km (~3 mile) run, requiring shutting down whole streets, restrictions on parking, etc. On the same day, at the same time, Nick’s running club Quicksilver was holding their 50 km/100 km race in the mountains with 13,000+ feet of elevation gain and a 17 hour time limit.  I, who have NOT run in 12 years, was thinking, “WOW! 5km? That’s nothing!”

*I'm not one to talk...My perception of temperature is skewed by yoga. My idea of too cold is anything less than 105 degrees.

  2)Ultra Runners train for distance running: only carrying essentials.

Nick is a minimalist…and as an Ultra Runner, he has trained himself to go for runs with exactly the amount of Gu (secret runner carb packets that help you run faster), water, and possibly salt tablets he requires. Nothing more. During races, Ultra Runners can swap out non-essentials (ex/ headlamp for pre-sunrise running), refill water, etc. at aid stations, so they only carry what they need.

I am a hiker who was trained as a Wilderness EMT at some point and also was a child during the Northridge Earthquake of 1994. I need to feel prepared at all times.
Nick has been trying to transition me towards the Ultra way of thinking: get rid of all the dead weight in the bag. Why do I need a large spray of bug repellant? Do I really need two first aid kits? Why do I have an emergency aluminum blanket when we are going for a day hike in the summer time when nighttime temperatures don’t reach anywhere close to freezing?

I won’t let him look in my backpack. He might find my lucky Daffy Duck figurine I found on my first ever Geocaching adventure with my friend Scott and question its position in my backpack.

It’s true…my backpack is probably heavier than it should be.

How to train a runner? Start to wean them off of non-essentials in a backpack. And then transition them away from a backpack altogether. Move them towards a vest or belt.

I’m just not ready to let go of my backpack.

3) Look like an Ultra Runner, feel like an Ultra Runner

Nick has approximately 26 boxes of shoes…all different shoes. Primarily Hoka One One. He has a closet dedicated to storing all the shoes. After going to MIWOK and acting as his inefficient crew, since I had never been to race and didn’t know what the role of crew was, I learned that Ultra Runners have a very distinct look about them. Men and Women of all ages sporting particular brands. Although I mention brand names here, I by no means am endorsing them.

Nick, on the other hand is a Patagonia wearing, Hoka lover.

Nick is an Ultra Runner and looks like one. 
At the beginning of MIWOK, Nick looks like this. Headlamp, neck Buff (SPF shield can be used as headband as in photo above, face cover, etc.)arm warmers (not featured here), and jacket. Although it was 46 degrees and had significant windchill, the jacket was given to me before the race. The arm warmers and headlamp were given to me at an aid station.

 
By the end of MIWOK, Nick is sporting his Patagonia hat, his race vest (mesh vest with two pockets for water), two water bottles, Quicksilver t-shirt rolled up, GPS watch, Patagonia shorts, Injinji toe socks, and Hoka shoes.

I may only be walking, but Nick is training me as a runner. If I visualize myself running, I will run.

But I need a good pair of shoes. My hiking/walking/every-outdoor-event shoes have been much abused over the many years I’ve had them. The tread has worn away, there are small holes, and it’s not waterproof anymore. So why not try Hoka? My mom also surprised me with Patagonia running shorts.

Am I being indoctrinated, I wonder?

Every sport requires particular gear, though, so why not Ultra Running?