so...then this happened...

As I was basking in the glory of completing a successful 50 miler.  Completing a painfully hot 50K, and waiting for the inevitable post-race soreness to go away.  A demon flew from out of nowhere and threw itself squarely between me and my 100 mile race goal.  The demon was sneaky, painfully annoying and expensive.  It canceled my Pikes Peak plans, destroyed my my Do Wacka Do weekend, and then after all that…it took my bicycle away also.

 The tiny demon could only be seen by MRI, it was nestled in the neck of my femur, tucked up inside my hip…sitting there, glaring at me.  A tiny fracture, so small you could barely see it, but it was radiating so much pain I could not even run a single step.  It sucked the life out of my running; just as things were going so well.

Doctors said 4 weeks on crutches….yes crutches.  No running, no cycling.  I panic.  What will I do with all this free time?  And with Labor Day coming….I was missing summer, missing hours of training, missing my social life which is so deeply entrenched with the running community I ‘m pretty sure most of my friends are either runners or I will convert them to runners.

 The first week I was in denial “these crutches are stupid”, “this is never going to work”, “how am I supposed to scratch and walk?”  I wondered who the genius was who invented devices to help you walk with one leg, and at the same time took away both of your hands.  …what an idiot.

 I took a trip to petsmart to buy fish food and a sales person came to me holding a small snake.  I petted the snake, the snake was so cute.  I asked her how big he would get she said about 6 feet.  I told her, no I have a Chihuahua.  She said, well we have a lovely sand boa that only gets to be about two feet.  I took a look.  I held it, petted it and then put it back.  I checked out my fish food and left.  I texted my friend and told her about the sand boa.  She promptly replied “I’m sure you are looking at that snake because you can’t run, you are bored and need a challenge.” …she was right.  I went to Best Buy and purchased Tomb Raider for my Xbox One instead. 

The weeks that followed, I stumbled with the crutches.  The first day back to work was an onslaught of “what happened?” , “Did you sprain your ankle?”, “Are you OK?”.  Like I had not already been injured for the previous two weeks just now it was visible.  I got questions from each new person I saw, people I did not even know felt entitled to see what was up with me.  My dad asked if I was taking any ‘sick leave’.  Really?  Why would I waste good time off work to just sit around the house?  Besides, by job does not have dedicated sick leave.

The next challenge was Labor Day weekend.  Hours and days off work and I could not run, cycle or even walk.

I occupied my time with the following activities:

Playing Tomb Raider

Vacuum Sealing Food

Feeding the Fish

Tying Scarves

Purchasing Cook books

 

Taking Photos of my Dog

 

At work I was relegated to the elevator.  I used the elevator more with in these 4 weeks than I did in 10 years working there. Ya know, people do not know how to use elevators. When getting onto an elevator it is recommended, customary, and polite to allow the people on the elevator off before trying to get onto the elevator.  Three times I was almost run over by people in the hallway trying to squeeze into the elevator before the occupants got off.  Really???

So here I sit, waiting for my hip to heal, waiting for my x-ray, waiting to ride my bike, to run…listening to my muscles atrophy.  

My friends have been great.  We go shopping and have dinner, they are very encouraging.  Soon we will be able to resume our active pursuits again.  

Soon I will be able to effectively clean my house again, climb on step ladders and take out the trash.  When I do I need to throw my friends a party for putting up with my grouchy ass for the last 4 weeks.  Sound like something to look forward to.

The Mohican 50 Miler

So, in order to continue my training toward my ultimate goal of running 100 miles this fall I decided I needed a 50 miler sometime this summer.  After Google searching and ultra runner website searching I decided the best option would be the Mohican 50 Mile race in Loudenville OH.  I had never been to Ohio before and the flights were relatively cheap, since I was booking everything in February.  I found an inn that I thought, according to Google maps was within walking distance from the start area.  I learned, in rural areas, never trust Google maps...

So time approached and training had been going pretty well to this point, I got through Jemez.  I had a small residual hamstring/ butt muscle pain since that race that never got better or worse and never hurt bad enough to go get it checked.  It was a nagging pain that did not prevent me from running; it was just bothersome and sat in the back of my mind enough to make me a little apprehensive about the 50.
Flying to run an ultra is tricky.  I don't want to check my bag for fear I lose my luggage, yet I cannot carry everything I need in a carry on.  Liquids are a No No so I would have to purchase many of my supplies after I arrive.

I landed in Columbus OH and went to gather my rental car.  A brand new Honda Accord, in blue and it had less than 180 miles on it.  It was also an automatic transmission and the first thing I did was slam my left foot down into the floor board when I tried to start it. Trying to find ‘drive’ was tricky and when I stopped at a light, I instinctively shifted the car out of gear until I finally got the hang of driving an automatic again.

The hour drive to Loudenville was uneventful except that I could not find the Mohican River inn.  I entered town and found the road, teaming with canoe rentals, camping resorts, kids running around in towels and bathing suits. I crossed the Mohican river and downstream there were lines of tubes and kayaks bumping over the rapids.  This was a hot spot for river lovers here in Loudenville and the Mohican river would not disappoint.   Apparently some people did not have trouble finding this place.  It was packed with weekenders.  I pulled off to phone the Inn and realized I did not have a lick of cell phone service.  Question:  How does a place that is not on the map and has no cell service bursting at the seams with vacationers?  I was a little thrown off to not have any means of communication.  I pulled into one of the canoe liveries to ask directions.  I was told to drive 6 miles down Wally road, cross a bridge and around a blind curve I will find the drive way to the inn.  Nice.

I do as told and there it was, on the top of a hill, a tiny 40 something room Mohican River Inn….not where I was expecting it to be.  I check in and get my room….no phone, no wi Fi, not cell service.  Fortunately I had borrowed a Verizon Hot Spot from my office before I left and was able to get connected and post to Facebook that I had arrived safely.

I settled in and the next day had breakfast outdoors where the Inn had set up a quaint continental spread for the guests.  I think I'm liking this place. It was a lovely pavillion in the woods with bagels and coffee.  Later I went into Loudenville to do a little shopping.  There were antique stores, Amish Furniture, Native American shops.  I had lunch at a diner called Hanover House and had the most delicious apple dumpling with vanilla frozen custard.  Hey, I would need those carbs tomorrow, right?

That evening I drove to the Mohican Adventure Park to get my packet and partake in the obligatory pasta feed and race briefing.  The place was packed and noisy.  We were set up under a large pavilion with packets on one end, some limited shopping/expo items then an area for food service.  Around 5:30 the dinner was served and after that we waited for the race briefing.  The race director gave a few announcements then handed the mic off to an older gentlemen that had ultra runner written all over him.  Long hair, facial hair, thin, khaki shorts and a tech shirt of races long past.  According to him…the course was very well marked with ample confidence markers and arrows at every turn.  They had an extensive race marking team that had been working or days to plant flags and paint chalk arrows on the ground.  Of course it was noted that a large rain just passed through the area so don’t count on the chalk too much…. Nice.  All in all, there was nothing out of the ordinary about any of this and the race team seemed well organized and well versed in how to put on an ultra-marathon.  I felt like we were in good hands, and returned to the Inn to get my hydration pack filled and lay out my clothes for the morning.

When morning came, the inn had graciously laid out coffee for us early outside the tiny lobby area.  I got a cup and fixed myself a bowl of Kellogs Special K High Protein cereal with Quinoa and loaded myself in the car.  I did not pack a jacket, just at towel and some clean clothes for after the race if I felt like changing.  My drop back contained a bottle of Ensure, and some pedialyte, nuts and some extra jells for the half-way point.  I would leave that at the Mohican pavilion since we pass it at the Marathon point.  I did not pack a bag for the covered bridge but later I would be wishing I had.
I took the short drive to the start area and I got there just in time to see the 100 milers taking off.  I slowed down and pulled off to watch the long train of tiny bobbing headlamps stream off down the sidewalk and into the darkness.  I wanted to cheer for them but the race director specifically said we must remain quiet in order not to wake the nearby campers. 
I found a parking spot, gathered up my bag and followed the rest of the runners who I know, knew exactly where they were going!  We marched under a bridge and followed a trail to the pavilion/start area.  I stowed my bag and sat chatting with other runners.  The sun was slowly rising, the sky looked cloudy and the humidity was high.  We sat and waited.  Finally gathering to the start area.  I was standing in my usual, mid-back of pack start location and John Kent Leighton, a face book ultra runner friend came and chatted with me.  I also chatted with Stacey Shaver, another runner from North Little Rock who found this race and decided to give it a try as well.  And after a short wait, we were off, into the rising sun, down the sidewalk and into the Ohio Forrest.

This race takes place in the Mohican State Park in Ashland County.  It is 1100 acres of forest just south of Loudonville Ohio. I knew the area was hilly but I was not expecting the climbs I was in for.  The course was made up of two loops.  The first was approximately 26.9 miles (the marathoners just ran that portion), and the second loop was slightly shorter at 23 miles.  The trail was soft, pine needle covered mountain bike trail.  I have learned that races on mountain bike trails were usually the most runnable races out there.  There was not much technical running and most of it was smooth and shaded.  During the first few miles of the race, the sky was overcast and the little bit of sunlight we had barely made it through the dense forest canopy.  Under the tall trees there was a myriad of ferns, mosses and low growing, shade loving plants. 

It seemed the first two aid stations came and went like a flash.  After the second station, we began to descend deep into a gorge.  There was a long steep stair case that took us down into the bottom of a 50 foot water fall.  Then we traveled along the creek bed deep into the gorge. Finally at the end, we had to climb out of the gorge using the roots of a tree for a ladder.  All the while the tree canopy created a rainforest effect that stayed with us the entire 50 miles.  I don’t think I saw the sun once during the entire day.  A few times there was a threat of rain.  I heard it hitting the trees high above, but it never made it down to us runners far below.  The towering pines shielded us from it. 

After coming out of the gorge, I progressed to the covered bridge aid station.  I stopped a minute to stretch my hamstring.  I was really feeling the hills on my sore hind quarters.  John Kent had caught up with me and I told him about it.  “Here have a couple Advil” he said and handed me a small zip top back of the orang-brown tablets.  I figured it couldn’t hurt so I swallowed a couple.  We proceeded, slow and steady up the hill.

I had been doing pretty good with my nutrition.  I was drinking plenty of water with Endurolite, eating the food I had packed and was feasting on the small turkey and cheese sandwiches at the aid stations so far.  Feeling really good other than the nagging pain in my backside.  I was keeping a good handle on refilling my camel back, but at the last aid station before the Pavillion- start /finish area I got distracted and forgot to fill it.  I took off from the aid station, my leg feeling much better from the Advil without even thinking.  It was about 6 miles to the next aid and half way through I realized I had finished off my water.  This is the first time this had ever happened to me and it was hot.  I began to worry I would become dehydrated before I was able to get to the next aid, and I was less than half way done.  I kept plugging along and made my way back into the camp area and ran for what felt like an eternity passed the Mohican adventure park, and through the camping areas and to my drop bag.  Finally I was saved.  I got to my bag and drank the Ensure and the pedyalite which I mixed double strength. Refilled my hydration pack and went back out.  I was continuing. I would complete 50 miles and my leg, or silly dehydration was not going to stop me.

Armed with the knowledge that the second loop was shorter I went back out with renewed enthusiasm.
I had been doing pretty well aside from becoming slightly dehydrated.  I had been able to eat real food for most of the race, saving the energy/caffeine gels for the last 10 miles.  My hamstring had stopped hurting as well, or was it that the pain in the rest of my body was catching up as to make it insignificant….either way I was still running ok going on 30 miles.  It was still hot and muggy, like a rainforest in the Ohio jungle.  I caught up with a 100 miler doing his second long loop.  He was tall and thin and using trekking poles.  I asked him if he thought we were getting close to the next aid station and he said “Well, I figure its close.  I plan to be there at 1:15 and it’s 1:13….”  I was like…really?  He knew the course and his body that well to know exactly when he was going to hit the next aid station and he was dead on.  I pulled in and refilled my hydration pack.  He kept trekking right no along and did not even stop for water or food.  The aid stations had started keeping buckets of ice water and sponges for us to douse our heads with.  It was delightful as the volunteer squeezed a sponge full of ice water over my head, I almost peed on myself.  I picked up a small turkey sandwich and carried it with me as I left toward the Fire tower.

At Fire tower I made a quick potty stop.  They had a porta john set up for the folks working the radios there fortunately.  I carried on and eventually made it to the covered bridge where the final solid food I could take was some potato chips and M&M's. The aid station people were great.  After that it was again, up the big hill but the best part was after the hills we started to hit the camp grounds.  I knew then I was going to make it.  I crossed a bridge to a camping area and a group of young teenagers clapped and yelled for me.  I wanted to cry.  Other than my unhappy stomach I was actually feeling pretty good.  Back into town I ran and made it to the area around the Pavillion armed with the knowledge I had less to run and got to cross the street and go to the finish.  We crossed by climbing down into a culvert that drains water under the highway.  cross under the bridge, then back up the other side, not a very elegant finish but when we climbed out, there was a large field to run around and  the finish line was visible.  The crowd cheered as we circled and finally passed under the finish.  I was pleased with it.  It was hard, steamy, muggy, hot and beautiful.  There were no other words.  I collected my things and walked to my rental car.  I was so happy that I was only 3 miles from my hotel.  I drove in and parked and the owner was there and congratulated me.  After a hot shower I knew I needed food.  But that could wait. I settled for leftover chex mix and ginger snaps to get me through until I felt like driving again.

Jemez Mountain 50K 2014 – not what I (or anybody) was expecting.

Our trip into Los Alamos was uneventful, almost dull.  We pulled out of Little Rock around noon, had a healthy lunch in Conway, and then continued onto our half-way point of Elk City OK to stay the night.  We ate at a delightful restaurant in Elk City called the Portobello Grille.  I Highly Recommend it if you ever end up in Elk City….if that would ever happen.  J Then next morning we continued onto our final destination of Los Alamos NM. 

This 900 mile trip, from East to West, across Oklahoma, the Texas Panhandle and then into Northern NM is a surreal experience.  Someplace, half way through, the trees of the southern Mountain ranges fade into scrub.  The scrub trickles into shrubs and finally, you end up gazing into miles of sand with looming monolithic mesas standing in the distance.  The mesas gradually grow into mountains of gray and brown and somewhere between those places you never really see where the trees stop and the dessert starts.  It’s a slow fade to endless sky, mountains and wind.

We reached Los Alamos around 4:30, checked into our hotel room, then drove the short drive to Crossroads Bible Church for our pre-race packet pickup, dinner and race briefing.  My travel companion and I got our packets, picked up paper plates then preceded down the line where eager high school track team members scooped out generous helpings of spaghetti with meat sauce, salad and sliced loaves of bread.  At the end of the line; oatmeal raisin cookies.  All my favorites!

We loaded our plates and found a seat in the front of the hall and waited for the pre-pace briefing, door prizes (I won a headlamp!), and general “support our sponsor” type talk.  The race director told us multiple times that rain was expected to pack a shell or rain jacket.  Fortunately I had packed my lightweight lulu lemon rain jacket for the weekend.  The race director also mentioned that there was a course change.  I did run this race last year, but I was not sure on what part of the course the change would affect so I hoped that markings would be clear.  As we were leaving the church, a curious storm moved through.  Thunder, lightning, and then wind kicked up and hail started to fall.  I looked puzzled at my friend as we darted across the parking lot and took cover in the car.  She looked at me and said “Hail?”….it was an ominous sign.

The night before, there are always the general preparations:  Fill the hydration pack, pack up gels, pack a bag with a towel and spare shoes.  For some reason I decided not to pack a set of extra clothes.  Last year we ran this race in 80 degree heat.  There were no issues with needing to change clothes to stay warm after the race.  We lounged around in our running clothes until we got showers at the hotel.  I guess I had the same expectations of this race.  It’s the same place and time of year, right?  So I packed some sandals and a towel and plopped it into the back of the car.  We were off to the start line.

The race starts at a facility called ‘The Posse Shack’.  A single room building with a kitchen and a bathroom, and fireplaces on each end.  We checked in and got our stuff together.  It was chilly but not cold.  It crossed my mind to leave my yellow rain shell in the car.  Fortunately I decided to keep it.  This turned out to be a good call….

We started the race running through some horse stables.  Areas full of barns and large fenced in areas where the people from town kept their horses for riding on the trails.  The horses jumped and pranced as we ran by, obviously not used to 200 runners charging down their quiet road.  The rains from the previous night coated the dirt road to create a spongy soft surface to run on.  The added downhill in to the valley created a lovely running experience for the start of the race.  The weather was perfect.  We cruised into the first aid station and I grabbed a few endurolytes then  as I was leaving, I took off my jacket and tucked it into my hydration pack.  I may need it later, but not now.  The sun was shining and the breeze was cool, perfect for my short sleeve shirt and shorts.  I Felt great and the running was good. 

There were 6 aid stations.  The first came and went in a flash.  The second was about 5.4 miles after the first, just after a huge climb, at one point I had to use my hands to help get over some rocks.  We ascended from 7553 feet to 8000 feet during that time.  The Camp May Road station was the last one before we climbed up to our highest elevation of 10500 feet, and there was 8 miles before we would get to the next aid station on the other side of the mountain.  I refilled my hydration pack and put Heed in my small water bottle then trekked on, still feeling good and running well, I was 10.4 miles in. 

The next section of trail is where the real climbing was to begin.  I crossed a road then continued up some switch backs straight up.  I was in a group of runners and we hiked several feet then as we got to the corner of a switch back we would stop and catch our breath.  The air was getting very thin and it was starting to wear on most of us.  I eventually caught with a local woman and I stayed with her for most of the real climbing.  This part of the trail was markedly different from when I ran this last year.  Last year we hiked straight up a ski slope to the top.  Following the path of the ski lifts that swung over our heads the whole way.   

This year new trail had been blazed, dark and fresh, that looped around, gently sloping to the top of the mountain.  I kept waiting for the hard part to come but it never did.  I was a little disappointed that I did not get to redo the same horrendous climb I did last year to compare my performance.   At this point it was mostly hiking, almost everybody was struggling, but I was progressing up.  Suddenly, a man in front of us stepped off the trail and lay down.  I had seen this before, dehydration mixed with altitude sickness makes a deadly combination.  We went to him and asked him what he needed.   He said he just wanted to lie down a while, and that he was dehydrated, and did not get enough fluids at the last aid station.  I promptly handed him my bottle of heed which he downed in a couple swigs.  From there we all continued on together.  There were four of us traveling together at this point up over one false summit after another. 

Finally, sweet victory,  we passed through a clearing and found the blue bench.  

 

Steve's Bench - note the ominous weather in the background...

 The blue bench is made of resourced skis, and stands guard over the tallest point of the Pajarito Mountain.  The four of us stood in awe of the view, took sefies and played atop the mountain for probably longer then we should.  My dehydrated friend was lounging on the bench and asked a runner who was local about which direction the weather comes in from.  The local looked over his shoulder and said “West, and that is weather moving in and we should get off the mountain”.  

Photo by Cyndi Wells (the Local Woman) :)

I know lightning is dangerous anywhere, but in the mountains, where weather can go from great to grim in about 10 minutes I got scared.  We scampered down the trail taking us down a double black diamond ski slope, down we ran until we reached mile 19.5, at 9220 feet I rolled into the Ski Lodge.  A huge oasis of an aid station with water and electricity and plumbing.   I got some Soda to drink, went to the bathroom and quickly moved out of the aid station.  They checked me off the list as I left. 

I ran about a mile out of the aid station.  The next aid was about 3.5 miles away, back up to 9580 feet above sea level so I had some significant climbing to do again.  The pipe line aid station was pretty much in the middle of nowhere.  As I was traveling through a pretty well tree-sheltered area, I heard a loud rumbling and a large gust of wind whipped around me.  I stopped and pulled my jacket out of my hydration pack and got myself covered.  I could feel the temperature dropping quickly.  How a day can change in the blink of an eye.

At this point the really speedy 50 mile runners start coming around.  The Local fast guys who practically live in the mountains and run these trails every day.  They waved and said hello as they passed.  I replied “good job!” 

The clouds grew as I traveled through some clearings and grassy areas.  I finally made the last climb where I saw the pipeline aid station in the distance.  They cheered when they saw me coming up the hill.  It was very welcoming.  The aid station was a lone shelter with a table, some water, heed, and some food.  I asked what the weather forcast held.  One volunteer told me it was raining at the next station.  I asked him about lightning and he said, “yes, there is probably lightning”.  He gave me some tips on how to not get struck, and told me I only had 9 miles to go.  That made me happy.  I smiled and said “I got this”  and trucked on.

After pipeline is a huge climb.  I looked back a couple times and saw another lone runner coming up behind me.  I climbed and climbed and as I progressed I heard a drizzle starting to pick up and rain began to speckle the rocks.  “Here it comes” I thought to myself.  I finally reached the summit again and traveled along a flat area and stopped.  No rain, but something was falling.  It was soft and quiet.  Snow!  Snow in Los Alamos in late May.  I had to take a photo.  As I was standing there with my jaw swung open the other runner caught up with me.  “I left Wisconsin to get away from this!” he yelled with a smile.  We laughed and continued.   

As we descended to lower elevations the snow turned to rain and the temperature continued to drop.  It was cold and we were wet and miserable.  My goal was to continue to run fast enough to keep from shivering.  If you start to shiver you’re finished.  We circled some smaller hills, the path carving one tiny flat runnable area of single track to run on.  Drop off to the left, cliff to the right.  Fast 50 Milers were continuing to come from behind and we passed a couple 50K runners who were succumbing to the cold.  The next aid station was at mile 25, 8852 feet of elevation, much lower and wetter.  The ground began to flatten and there was more water pooling in the path.  The aid station was a tent with a small canopy.  It was welcome to get out of the rain and inside I saw dropped runners shivering against the cold, under dressed for the situation and they had given up their chances of completing the race.  I asked the volunteers how long until the next aid: 5 miles to the next aid and 7 to the finish.  I was still feeling strong, slightly cold, but still strong. They checked me out of the station and I continued. 

This is where all hell broke loose.  Wind, rain and another temperature drop.  I passed two more runners, one guy wearing a tank top.  The course wound around the flat wild fire burned terrain.  No shelter, no trees, not even a hole to climb into…I was looking.  I wasn’t feeling strong any more, my legs were beet red and I was close to shivering.  Two more 50 milers passed me, they looked worse than I felt and I figured I probably looked just as bad. 

It seemed like forever, I was knocked around by wind and rain and finally I saw the sign “1 mile until Last Chance Saloon”.   I began to descend into a valley.  I was watching my step on the slippery rocks, trying not to fall because a broken or sprained ankle would be very bad in cold wind and rain in the middle of nowhere. 

Finally I heard the cheering from the last aid station.  In the very bottom of the valley sheltered somewhat from the wind. It was still raining.  I heard them cheering.  I made it carefully down the hill and they read off my bib number as I came in.  Checking me off the list.  They asked me what I wanted.  I said “Do you have anything warm?”  They said “how about some soup?”  I was saved!  The soup was hot and salty and it hit the spot.  I knew I only had 1.9 miles to go and only one significant climb left.  I was actually looking forward to it because it may help warm me up.  I checked out of the aid station and started my final climb.

I continued running toward town and was on some lovely patch of trail.  The rain had slacked up.  Suddenly I stopped.  In the distance I saw two large dogs….dogs?  Can’t be dogs…too big. Could they have been wolves?  I don’t know.  They were traveling together, large gray wolf like creatures.  They looked at me and I stopped.  I figured if they came toward me I could scream, or blow my whistle.  My hydration pack came equipped with a whistle you are supposed to blow if you get lost.  I figured it would scare wolves also.  Fortunately they saw little interest in me and they trotted off the course and into the woods.

It looked like this!  really! 

I ran on, finally, the last small climb up some rocks back into the horse stables.  It was drizzling; I looped around the parking area and into the finish line.  They pulled my tag and I was officially done, completed, a finisher!  And I say that because when I got inside the posse shack I found out they had cancelled both races due to weather.  I was fortunate enough to be already passed the cutoff point when they closed the course.   Consequently I was running through the worst of it.  I entered the Posse shack and an EMT gave me a jacket and a volunteer gave me a shirt to change into.  Volunteers here are great.  I had two cups of hot black coffee and sat by the fire.  AT that point I knew I had accomplished something rare that day.  I got through it.  I did not even care how fast or slow I was.  So many others were not able to finish due to the weather.  Snow had covered the trail so much that it was dangerous to let them continue.  Markings can be easily lost and runners can become disoriented in the snow covered ground. 

In 30 minutes I transitioned to “I’ll never do this again” to “I can’t wait to come back”.  I have really grown to love this race.  I may never attempt the 50 miler, the k at altitude is probably all I need to do, but each year I want to come back and do better.  Go faster, and run stronger.    That is all.

Sorry for the neglect

So I neglected my blog last year.  Thats ok, figured I have about 5 viewers anyway and I talk to them on a daily basis. 

Any hoo....I ran a lot, tried to increase my speed and ran a 4:01 marathon in the end of last year. 

Now I'm training for my first hundred and I plan to try to post some race reports.

That's about it.