That’s what I’d like to know, too!

Welp. I finished my race, so kindly funded by readers and especially one C.W. who boosted the gofundme right over the top in a big way. Thank you so much, my dears!

I got a very pretty finisher medal, and earned the right to wear my Black Bear shirt:

Wave at the nice bear, everybody!

But that is pretty much the only thing I brought home this time.

What took me so long to finally tell you about it?

Well, partly I wanted there to be more of a take-home than “man, that sucked”. It did! Sucked big time! People always want to hear about the victories, right? I don’t have a single victory to tell about, except that I didn’t quit, even though I sorely wanted to. You don’t really want to hear about that, do you?

But also, the big reason I waited so long to tell about the thing is that I couldn’t figure out why. I wanted to be able to explain it, or at least try to.

Why in the world did it take me a full 12 minutes longer to do this half marathon than the last? I would like to know the answer to that, even if it’s not terribly interesting to anybody else. But without something like an answer, at least an educated guess, I’ve just got nothing useful or interesting to report.

I’ve been trying this whole time to figure out what went wrong for me that day. There were a bunch of factors that could be blamed for holding me back. I had very poor sleep, not enough to eat the day before, travel stress (do not stay at the Days Inn in Hendersonville), and a physical condition common to women that does not make running long distances very convenient. But that’s not honestly different from any other race I’ve run. I’ve always found myself at the starting line under less than optimal conditions. It’s just a fallen world, ain’t it?

Was it a mindset thing? I felt doubtful because of some lackluster runs the previous few weeks, frustrated because of a lot of non-athletic things that were coming up, angry at some folks who had really done our family a disservice, already defeated in a hundred ways before I even got there. But none of that should have held me back any more than any other time I’ve had difficulties. Usually, once I start moving, all of that disappears from my mind, and I just go. I don’t go fast, but I do go. I don’t think it was a mindset thing. When I get mad, I put on my running shoes! Physical activity makes me feel better about even the worst experiences, so I couldn’t bring mindset as an answer.

Was it my training? While I did have a little bit of a cold that kept me from training for three important weeks, it honestly wasn’t any more of a detraining than I underwent last year for much more stressful reasons. I was smart and diligent about what training I could do, and I really can’t think that poor training accounts for the absolute disaster I pulled off this year. I’m a year older, sure, but only one year. Diet didn’t change, sleep habits are good, still in very good shape for an old gal, and I don’t skip leg day. Everything should have been as good as it gets for me. I’m very confident in that.

But for some reason, I simply couldn’t go. When the time came to start running, I felt like my body didn’t even belong to me anymore. It didn’t want to do what it usually does. I couldn’t even work up a sweat! (That was actually the clue I missed. I could have saved myself if I’d realized this in-race.) In 13.1 miles, I barely was able to get my heartrate up. I just couldn’t muster a thing.

Nothing hurt. My mood was fine, except for the bewilderment. I didn’t feel tired. My shoes and socks were great! I just…couldn’t. I was flatter than a flitter.

Now, what happened there? Eighteen days later, I finally think I’ve figured it out.

I did a dumb, guys. I did a real boner. 

We all have a turtle inside. I hope my Turtle will forgive me soon.

I have been in the habit of taking salt–up to a half teaspoon with just a little water–before every workout for all of my keto/carnivore years. I often run with a bottle of pickle juice or electrolytes, as well as some plain water. When you run on fat, you burn through a lot more electrolytes than folks who are going through a lot of carbs first. Having enough salt on board is crucial. It has been for me, anyway. Some people don’t seem to have the same level of need that I do.

If you’ve ever read Waterlogged, by Tim Noakes, or done any other kind of research into hydration and exercise, you’ll know that your body can raise its own blood volume when you get dehydrated by releasing salt from your bones. But (and I don’t think Waterlogged expresses this at all adequately) you have to replenish that salt, or eventually your body will just say “Nope, I’m not giving up any more of my precious mineral just so you can go a minute faster per mile today. You’re staying down here on the ground with the mortals.”

As I said before, I couldn’t sweat, which meant I couldn’t safely raise my body heat. My brain just wouldn’t let me go. It wanted me to live, and I wasn’t salted up.

So, how did I get into this saltless state? I usually have a fairly high salt intake just in my food, plenty to keep me going without having to supplement. But I have always dosed extra salt when I want to stay out longer or go harder. It just saves my body having to find its own salt as I sweat. I always feel better during and after a run if I salt up.

I knew when I couldn’t even raise a sweat within the first couple of miles that this run was going to be abysmal. I’ve had a few sweatless runs like that recently. But for some reason, it has taken me this long to realize that not only had I not salted that morning, not even a little bit on my breakfast of boiled eggs, but I had not been intentionally salting for several weeks. During those weeks, as I think I alluded to in a previous post, I had seen a slight decline in my endurance, but I never even made the connection in my mind. Then when I got to the big day, I think I had just run out of sufficient stores to do what I came to do.

My last several runs at home have been equally umphless, except for the last two. The penultimate one, I had eaten a whole lot of bacon before, so that explains that. I usually go out fasted for an ordinary run, but the bacon looked good that day. Very salty.

And then there was today, a pleasant and suddenly inexplicably easy run, at my intended half-marathon pace of 11:30 for five miles. No sweat. Well, actually, a lot of sweat. But no difficulty at all!

What was different about today? Well, today I was listening to a podcast about metabolism while I was preparing for a run, and somebody said the word “salt”. I thought, “Gosh, I really oughta.” So I did. And my run felt normal again, after more than a month of frustratingly declining performance. So, there you have it. I just forgot the most basic thing I already knew about zero-carb running. I ran the last race with a bottle of pickle juice. That is a need for me. And somehow the part of my brain that took care of that need just went to sleep for a couple of months.

But, you know what? I’m never sorry.

I have asked myself if maybe it was a trip I shouldn’t have taken. If maybe I should give up. Maybe God just doesn’t want me doing this. But then I imagined having stayed home, or deciding halfway through the race to give up, or just not lining up to begin with, and you know what?

Regret is far more painful than failure.

I’m glad I kept going. I’m glad I’ve got another finish under my belt. And while I was closer to the rear of things than I wanted to be, I’m glad had a chance to pray over a gal’s injured hamstring. (She beat me to the finish line!) I got to make people laugh and feel better about their plight, similar to mine, of being several miles from the end of something that turned out to be harder than expected. I wonder if God allowed this because he wanted my prayers and my sense of humor to be there for somebody.

I will race again, friends. Next time I will do it with all the salt, and hopefully a lot better circumstances in other ways. I could be wrong about the reason this was so bad, but I really don’t think I am. It was like a light switch being flipped when I dosed the salt this morning.

I’m thinking of a half or even a whole marathon in the spring, so we’ll have opportunity to at least to test the hypothesis. Until then, thanks again so much for making that learning experience possible, friends, by giving to my gofundme. You are truly a blessing, and I pray that God returns each of your kindnesses many times over!

If the Lord wills it, and with some help from friends…

The Black Bear Half Marathon is next week! Since I ran that last year under some suboptimal circumstances, I thought I’d like a re-run to see if I’ve improved any since last year.

Last year I finished up at 2:48:07, which was 20 minutes slower than I had even feared I’d be. I was very unprepared, as you can read at the post linked above.

We haven’t had any hurricanes this year, thank God, but my training has been sidelined by an apparent bout of the ‘vid that’s going around our communities. I finally got better, and I have trained a bit this week. I anticipate being a little bit faster, but I don’t think I’m in the shape I should have been. We’ll see! I do not feel tired when I run, and I’m coming back in with energy to spare every day. Mostly I’m just trying to keep from overuse injury due to stepping it back up too fast, but I’m also afraid of relapsing the respiratory problems I’ve had. Conditions will never be perfect. These are not excuses. These are battles I get to fight.

My goal this time is just any PR. The 5k, 8k, 10k, the whole thing, or any combination of the above.

I really like beating the smaller distances at the beginning, and I think negative splits are for weenies. Maybe they’re great, since everybody talks about them so much. But what I’ve come to understand about myself is that I have to start strong, or I will get to the end and wonder if I paced myself too much. Then I feel like I’ve wasted my opportunities. I do not want to be discouraged late in a race with irrecoverable mistakes.

Nobody and nothing can ever take away a step I’ve already taken. But I can take it from myself by trying to save it for later. I don’t know what’s going to get into my mind at the 10th mile to slow me down. I might daydream or lose confidence, or have on the wrong socks, like last time. All the steps I could have really pushed for in the beginning never happened, and now I can never make it up.

Other runners’ mileage may vary, but pacing myself at the start just won’t work for me. I’m not wired for planning. I’m wired for pushing.

I’m a pretty strong erg-rower, and that’s my indoor activity of choice. I always, always end faster when I start strong and don’t worry about whether I’m going to have enough steam at the end. I decided to carry that into my running. We’ll see how that goes for this race. My 5k PR last year was 33:47, but I beat that again in the spring at a local race by exactly a minute, 32:47, so I’m trying to get sub-31 this time. Seems unlikely, but I’m going in hopeful! Here are my Garmin predictions:

Those are usually very optimistic, but that’s what I’m pushing for, and then some. It really is a mental thing, as I will allow myself to slow down after a few good minutes with no real physical need to do so. You don’t get to rest on your laurels until you have the laurels! Any time I get that through my head, I win.

I only walked a few minutes last year because of some foot pain, so if the shoes and socks are just right, hopefully that won’t be a problem this time. I did have a shoe problem last time I went out this week, so I may make a last-minute stop at the shoe store this weekend to see if there’s a better shoe for the distance. The sock problem won’t happen again. I have been training in toe-socks. My feet are so much stronger this year from zero-drop and barefoot shoes that I’ve lost two shoe sizes! You really shouldn’t be wearing supportive shoes, folks. I’m wearing a 6.5/7 now, where it used to be 7.5/8!

Thanks to all of you who’ve donated to my run fund! I have enough to get some new shoes and I’ve bought a running belt that will serve me a lot better than my pockets have. You also covered the entry fee. THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!

Last year it was “Lord willing and the creek don’t rise.” My friend even bought me a tee shirt:

This year it’s “Lord willing and I have enough money to travel.”

If you want to help a gal crush some goals, this is my last blog-beg…bleg?…before the big day. If we have the money to sleep over down there the night before, I will go. If we don’t, I don’t think I can drive that far and turn out very well the same day, so I’ll switch to virtual and run a half marathon up here at home on some back road with comparable hills.

In that case, any money raised will still be used for running. I’m hoping to be ready for a marathon in the spring! It would be a little bit sad for me to try to run by myself that day, so I’m hoping some readers feel inclined to help get me there.

Help out if you can, pray if you can’t! Please leave a comment, too!

I made it…Bearly!

It’s been more than a week since the half marathon in Hendersonville. I am sorry I took so long to update, especially to those friends who funded my run. You’re going to hear all about it now!

Pic from my hometown on Sept. 27, 2024 stolen from Bluegrass Life https://www.facebook.com/bluegrasslife/

As you all know, our beautiful mountains took a hard hit from hurricane Helene in September.

The half marathon (that at the time I was pretty confident I was ready for) was rescheduled for a month later, on November 10. I was determined to show up for this race, even though I had lost a lot of training time to the circumstances. Come Hell or high water, and the Good Lord willing, I was going visit Hendersonville and turn out in support of this beautiful community. The people in these mountains, including myself, are in desperate need of a little normalcy and fun. So I bought a neat tee-shirt to express my feelings on the matter…

…and I toddled my slow, unprepared butt on down the mountains past Asheville to run that race!

There were some challenges, of course. There always are, right? But extra ones, this time. For one thing, I had only had four training runs between the day of the hurricane and the day of the race, a total of maybe 30 miles in the month. I spent some days shoveling mud, some days volunteering at donation sites, some days delivering supplies, and of course I still needed to take care of my own family. My community and family needed me far more than I needed to be out running. Don’t take this to mean that I was being some kind of hero or martyr. I did not do enough, and I’m not done yet! I truly wish I had done more even now, and there are a lot of actual heroes around here who deserve all the praise. I’m a very minor player, I promise. I’m only telling you this because that was how I’ve had to spend my time, rather than running. 

This is my shovel. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

For another thing, I apparently caught a bug of some kind. Maybe I poisoned myself mucking around in contaminated flood mud, maybe I was just stressed out, or maybe I caught what the kids next door had. Whatever it was, I had been feeling nauseated and unwell for the past two weeks, at that point. (I’m mostly better now!) I really didn’t know if I was going to be able to finish this run at all. I tried to keep upbeat about the whole thing, but I was feeling pre-defeated on the drive down.

Though it sounds ridiculous, the worst thing, the one thing in all this that made me almost literally cry?

I packed the wrong socks.

When I was packing for the trip, I honestly just couldn’t get my mind clear on what I was even packing for. Something about a race? Seriously? Now? I managed to grab most of what I needed. At least I packed the right shoes. But I forgot many of the obvious things that one would normally would take on an overnight trip: toiletries, pajamas, laptop, emergency cash. I just didn’t have my head in the game at all.

If you’re a runner, or you know a runner, you likely know what a sinking feeling I had when I opened up the bag of running gear that Sunday morning and saw that I’d grabbed toe socks instead of the conventional socks I normally run in. The only other socks I had were even less likely to benefit me, so I put on the stupid socks.

This was a “can I even make it?” kind of run. As you know, I’m not the fastest, nor will I ever hope to be. But I enjoy the mental and physical challenge of running. I did think there was a chance I’d be close to dead last under these conditions, if I made it at all. But I really didn’t want to have to write that up for all the friends who helped me get here, so I went out there determined to just puke and run, puke and run, if that’s what I needed to do.

Praise the Lord, I can actually say “Yes! I made it!” I came in 249th out of 289 finishers. I am not proud of this, but it is what I could do that day. I didn’t even puke!

First goal cleared!

Half Marathon box checked!

I had some other goals that were a little less important on this run. But they were more firm, and honestly more likely to fail, I thought. I wanted to beat both my 5k and 10k personal bests in the first miles.

Second and third goals cleared, as well! This, I am proud of! Of course they’re not pro numbers, but they are getting better all the time, and I think I’ll have actually respectable speeds soon.

The one goal I did not meet, of course, was the half-marathon time goal. It was, in a word, abysmal. I had wanted to keep around a 12-minute pace for every mile, which would have put me around 2.5 hours at the finish. That was a modest goal, I thought. I do sincerely, and hopefully without fooling myself, believe that I could have done that back in October, when the original race was scheduled. My training was planned and executed well until September 27th.

I actually kept my planned pace pretty well–though widely varying between 10:30 and 12:30 each mile because I wanted to meet those early speed goals–until about mile 10, when my right foot started to feel the insult of having the toes wrapped individually instead of all in a bundle. I had no choice but to walk a good deal of the last 3 miles. I could still jog a little, but then I had to walk some more. I watched about 50 people of whom I’d felt confident I’d seen the last pass me. I was encouraged by many sweet souls telling me how great I was doing, but I was not. I was not doing great at all.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been that mad at myself. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I know, it’s just an amateur race and I’m nobody to be taking anything that seriously. But this just sucked, ok? I am not angry at myself any more, but at the time, I just could not believe what I’d done there.

But I did finish. 

And after I finished, I showered, rested an hour or so, and then smashed this beautiful steak and eggs:

Don’t mind the green stuff. I didn’t eat that.

Thanks again, so much, for supporting this run, friends! I pray for each and every one of you to be rewarded tenfold for your generosity in giving to my gofundme. God bless your generous spirits! There will be more races!

Grrrrrr.

I just updated my previous update with some new information, to wit: (The) travel insurance was, as insurance usually is, too tricky in its terms to be of any use to me. While it would have covered my being unable to get there because of a hurricane, they refused to cover my not needing the room due to a hurricane. I have all sorts of words not fit for print right now. I’m out the money my backers sent me for the room, and will have to start driving around 4:30 a.m. to make it for packet pickup. But I will go!

I am incredibly sorry to all of my GoFundMe givers. I probably should have waited until closer to the race to book the room. Next time I won’t plan so far out. I will still be doing that race!

Black Bear Half Marathon Update

The Black Bear Half Marathon has been rescheduled for November 10th!

I said I’d do it, and I’m going to do it. Lord willing, etc., etc. I am under-trained at the moment because the hurricane aftermath made running just a little bit difficult. First, I didn’t want to sweat too much without showers available. Then I didn’t want to try to go fast on roads covered in debris and gravel. And then I just had to admit, when those excuses were used up, that my heart was just breaking for the people who’ve lost so much. I didn’t feel like running. Besides, there were better uses in the community and at home for my energy.

And then I caught a cold or something, I think while mucking about in flood mud. I’m on about day 6 of that, and feeling like I might be all better tomorrow. The very minute I feel like I can do it without setting myself back, I’m going to get back on the road again. I’m a little bit panicky, because I have less than a month to be ready for the challenge. Fortunately, it hasn’t been that long since I ran–only a couple of weeks and change, though it feels like a lot longer–so hopefully I haven’t lost too much ground.

Pray for me and wish me luck, friends! I’m already daydreaming about crossing that finish line with some PRs to brag about!

My GoFundMe is still up if you want to help pay for the trip! I am funded, as explained here, but could still use the extra scratch for training and travel incidentals.

Get ready, Hendersonville! I’m coming to run ya!

I’m tickled pink that 17 donors have made it possible for me to go to the Black Bear Half Marathon without dipping into the family funds. I felt a little bit delicate about asking, because it’s a want, not a need. But it’s something I want to do so badly that it is worth the hit to my pride.

I didn’t talk about it here when our septic system failed last year. We had a uniquely bad situation because of the age of our house and the steepness of our lot. It took nearly $30,000 when all was said and done. That’s not to mention the several months of having to dump used water outdoors, take very short showers, wash clothes at the laundromat, etc. Many of the costs were not in the repair itself, but in the things we had to do to adapt to the situation and clean up the lot afterwards.

Praise God, we managed to do it without debt and without losing our minds! But, as you can imagine, we’re still scrimping and saving to refill the hole that left in our emergency and other funds. That means we haven’t had much extra for unnecessaries like travel and athletics.

Your kind help means the world to me, friends! I will be praying for each of my donors by name during my run. If that sounds weird, you probably don’t run a lot. The mind goes all over the place. It’s part of why I run. I often use that peaceful time to talk to the Lord! I’m going to write their names down and pin them somewhere to my clothes so I don’t miss anybody. May the Lord richly reward their kindness!

If you’re feeling bummed that you didn’t get a chance to donate, there is still time. I’m going to leave this fundraiser open, because there is ALWAYS more I can do with it. I’m a sucker for technology and shoes, we’ll need to buy meals while we’re traveling, and GFM takes a fee off the top, so every little bit more helps keep my fun from burdening my family.

Thank you again, so much!

A summer challenge.

I was sitting around the other day feeling a little bored. I don’t have a race to train for right now (no money for such luxuries), and I find it hard to really improve without knowing what I’m aiming for, so I needed to come up with an event all my own. At first, I thought it would be cool to run 4 miles in 40 minutes. Since I’m 44, you know.

After a few days of thinking, and running, and really just wanting to make the title of the challenge even catchier, I decided to back that goal down to 4 miles in 44 minutes, bringing my target speed to 11 minutes per mile. Let’s at least be realistic. I’m not a fast runner, but I can do 11 minutes four times in a row. I know I can! I’m still going to go for the harder prize: 4 10-minute miles in a row. But I will consider myself to have won my race if I can do 4 in 44.

I have until mid-August. I’ll let you know if I make it!