Getting There.

Sometimes I think I’m invincible. Well not really immortal, but I have this “thing” where when it comes to something physical, I see no reason why I can’t learn to defeat it. I always tell people that I became a long distance runner partly because I once tried to jog around the park and failed miserably. It gave me something to focus on and conquer. But truthfully my desire to destroy goes back further than that.
I auditioned to be on the pom squad in 7th grade and didn’t make it. I was crushed. However, I was so determined to make it on the team that over the next year I taped every cheerleading and and dance team championship on ESPN I could find. I spent countless hours studying moves and choreographing routines in my basement and in 8th grade not only did I make the squad but I also choreographed the routine that won us first place in a regional competition.

I decided to study dance in college despite never having taken a ballet class. Sure I was a cheerleader. I also went to an arts-based school and participated in musical theatre, but I didn’t TRAIN at a studio for years the way many of my college classmates did. Even so I wanted to transform myself into a modern dancer in the likes of the great Martha Graham. Because I started training much later than others I struggled with technique. However I was natural performer so I used this to my advantage. I soaked up every performance I could attend, read every book on modern dance I could find in the library and stayed late in the studio at night to practice. (I know, cue the Flashdance music!) On an open stage night my freshman year, I choreographed and performed a solo in an attempt to draw attention to myself. It worked. After that I clawed my way from a very beginner class to being asked to perform in concert after concert by my junior and senior years.

I do not give up.

So when I find myself faced with a daunting task like running 26, 31, or even 50 miles, I don’t see any reason why I can’t do it. Maybe it’s crazy to think like that or maybe, just maybe, it’s something amazing. Part of it is just being stubborn but really, barring major injury I never see any reason why I can’t at least finish a race. I’m not talking about winning or even setting personal records- there have been many races where I’ve tried to beat a certain time and fallen short. But I never once thought I couldn’t finish. When I ran Dances with Dirt this past weekend on a treacherous, hilly course, it took us nearly seven hours. The night before? I was excited but not nervous. “We’ll get there when we get there,” was our attitude.

So as I dive into 50 mile training and I stare at training runs of 28, 30 and 32 on my calendar am I scared? That’s not the right word for it. I am ecstatic. I cannot wait to focus, tackle and defeat this latest distance. I know that if I train right and am smart about it, that 50 is just another number. It may take me all darn day but I’ll get there when I get there.

What about you? Do you have a story of determination?

Tracey Takes Part in Something Crazy: Part 756

Oh hey, I did something wild. As if running regular marathons aren’t hard enough I have to seek out new ways in which to torture-- I mean challenge myself. Like maybe run a marathon on wooded trails, climb rocky bluffs, and sweat through scorching prairies. Maybe run through areas where said “trail” is only ever-so-slightly implied. The mere idea of a trail. Yeah, that’s what I wanna do. I wanna cover nearly 3000 feet in elevation. (Like whoa. Thanks for that detail, Krista!)

And I wanna do it with four of my bestest running buddies.

Step one to doing a race like this: Ignore the waiver. After we had already signed our lives away we went back and read the fine print: “I realize that my participation in this event entails the risk of injury, or even death.” Sounds reasonable for a race with a dancing devil as their mascot. Let’s see... insect bites, poison ivy, broken bones, potential death...where do I sign?





Anyway, so after spending the night at Hotel 1972 (otherwise known as the Devil’s Head Resort), me, Annie and Rochelle met up with Marty, Krista, Amy, Matt and Evan at the campground by the start. (I don’t camp. Ever. Especially the night before a marathon so we roughed it with outdated decor and a broken air conditioner.) But what I wimped out on the night before we totally made up for on the race course. Five of us were running the full marathon, Matt and Evan ran the half and Amy ran the 10K.

The details:

Right from the start I could tell this was going to be a long ride. The first four miles were painfullly slow as we climbed hill after neverending hill. Where on earth did all these Wisconsin hills come from and why didn’t I know about them before? The runners were very bunched up which made for a very slow pace and we did a lot of walk/running. The people who ran the hills in the race are my heroes, for real. I didn’t have a time goal for this race since we all planned to run together and simply enjoy the experience so the pace didn’t really bother me that much. It felt very freeing to run with an “I’ll get there whenever I get there” attitude. We were stopping at every aid station for drinks and snacks (Pretzel M&Ms! Wut!) and taking photos as well. Everyone we saw was so supportive as well. I lost count of how many times I said, “Good job!” to runners we passed or to those who passed us.

And then there were the bluffs. The Rockies. My dad had warned me about the bluffs around Devils Lake because he had been fishing there in the past. However, my dad like to warn me about EVERYTHING so I usually let stuff like that roll right off and don't pay much attention. (This is the man who asked if they hand out maps at marathons and chastises me for running alone without pepper spray in Bay View.) Who knew he would be right about this? The hills I thought were difficult in the beginning paled in comparison to these. It was like scaling a rocky mountainside. We were like the Von Trapp Family Singers climbing over the Alps but without the cute Austrian outfits and I don’t think Captain Von Trapp ever called anyone “bitches.” (We love you too Marty!) There were jokes about potential cliff diving taking place once we reached the top and lo and behold when we arrived there were rock climbers rappelling down from the highest point! Really.



I don’t think I ever hit a serious “low” point in this race, which was good. My least favorite part was on a very gravelly path where the pieces of rock were so large and pointy that they felt like they were stabbing through the soles of my shoes. I was the most uncomfortable at this point but I didn’t feel like I was going to die or anything. Win! I kept setting the goal of just getting to the next aid station and never really thought about more than that. Baby steps to the elevator. It wasn’t until we passed through the final water stop (around mile 22) that I started to dream about the finish line. It was then that I think we all got a little bit loopy. At one point we passed through a particular sunny area surrounded by tall grasses and I started picturing myself as Laura Ingalls running through the prairie. It was kind of surreal. Did I miss the part where we all got high? Ah, the joys of running-induced delirium.




The last two miles were kind of a blur. We re-entered the woods and I probably kicked my toe on every stinking rock and root in my path. I didn’t feel like my legs were that heavy but apparently my body was desperately trying to tell my mind that it had enough. As we neared the end we had decided we would link arms and cross “Red Rover” style so we joined up as we came out on to the grass toward the finish area. The first thing I saw was Matt cheering for us and pumping his fist in the air! We turned the corner and saw Amy and Evan at the finish line and we all got a big cheer from the crowd as we crossed! I heard someone say they were impressed that we had all stayed together for the entire race.



Then there was the magical outdoor shower that was like a sweet, sweet waterfall.



And of course, beer! What else? The rest of the afternoon was full of ponies and unicorns as we collected our age group awards and ate piles of food. (To be fair, there was only one other girl besides us in the 30-34 age group but I still drink from my prize mug with pride.)

We basked in the afterglow that is post-race festivities and washed away the memory of how hard the past six hours and forty-three minutes were. Would anyone ever do another race if it wasn’t for the post-race amnesia? Something to ponder.




Nine and a half weeks until my 50 Miler.

RAAAAGNAAAAAARRRR: ALL NIGHT LONG

I keep talking about how races have been sneaking up on me. But really, THIS RACE TOTALLY SNUCK UP ON ME. That’s what happens when you have such a packed schedule I guess. One day you’re organizing a bridging ceremony for a bunch of Daisy Scouts and the next you wake up and find yourself at the starting line of a 197 mile relay. That happens to everyone, right?

Let me say that I knew for the most part that the people on team 12 Sweaty Nuts were rad. But nothing highlihghts the innate rad-ness of people’s personalities like spending 30 odd hours in a couple of stinky vans with them. Some people would argue that this could go in the completely opposite direction and we’d all end up clawing each others eyeballs out by Saturday morning but with runners this cool I have only love. Big stinky, sweaty love. (Ok, maybe that came out a little bit wrong.)

For me, the running was secondary. Sure, i was responsible for completing 16.5 miles. A five miler, a five and a half miler and a sixer. But the REAL challenge (and the fun) was staying up all night, consuming mass quantities of sugar, and cheering on my teammates at each exchange point. And coming up with as many euphemisms as possible. We were a team called 12 Sweaty Nuts so what do you expect?




So we ran. And drove. And ran some more. And drove some more. I got to run in the middle of the night with a headlamp and reflective vest on which was quite frankly the most badass thing I’ve done in quite a while. I even knocked out a couple of 7:45 miles up a gigantic hill during this leg. Heeeyyyyyy. Yeah, I don’t know how I did it either. We painted peanuts on our van, emptied a two pound bag of Sour Patch Kids and had a 90s dance party where I did the running man in a parking lot to C&C Music Factory. We also made a video of us saying the word RAGNAR like we were death metal singers.

These are good times, I tell you.

And so it all ended on a beach in Chicago- coincidentally down the street from where I used to live in college- and there was BEER! Sweet, glorious beer. And I don’t know if you know this, but if you’ve been running and not sleeping for hours and hours then beer tastes FANTASTIC. Also, you need very little of it for you to be very, very happy.



And then we saw Krista! And then the second van with the rest of the sweaty nuts showed up! And then Marty brought in the anchor leg and performed the astounding feat of be-shirting himself without stopping running!

You should watch this video now:



And then there were medals. And pictures. And high fives. And this was something I will never, ever forget.



RAAAAGNNNNNNNAAAAAAR 4-EVAR.

Photobooth Fun

Rockathon 2011 Race Report

(Otherwise known as blah, blah, blah, Tracey keeps talking about her darn marathon.)

*This has been posted at Dailymile for a couple of weeks now but just for posterity's sake I like to have all my race reports on my actual blog as well. Sometimes I wonder what would happen to my virtual existence if there were ever such a thing as an internet apocalypse? So much of me happens in spaces like these. Maybe I should back all this garbage up.

Race report: Engage.


What a day. I've said it on here a number of times these past couple of weeks but this marathon really snuck up on me. I trained all winter for the Chicago Lakefront 50K in March and most of that training was long, slow, distance runs. So even though I ran a sub-4 marathon last October I really didn't expect to be able to do it again in Rockford. In fact, just three weeks ago when I was running my 22 mile trail run with Krista, we talked about how we both had no idea what to expect coming into our spring marathons. Not only did we just run the 50K only seven weeks ago, but since then we'd been hitting the trails for our long runs, which forced us to run much slower than on the road.

I decided that the WIsconsin Half Marathon was going to be my "test". I told myself that if I was able to run a 1:55 "easily" (translation: not feeling like I wanted to die) then I would not only go for another sub-4 in Rockford, but I would try for a PR. (My previous PR was a 3:58:41)

Well, I ran the half in a 1:54:40 and I didn't feel like dying. Guess I had to try! Shoot.

I worried all week about the weather since it called for rain on Sunday but on race morning, it didn't seem all that bad. It was sprinkling a bit but the temperature was in the upper 40s. My dad took me to the race start and he proceeded to talk very loudly about how YOU COULDN'T PAY HIM TO RUN A TWENTY SIX POINT TWO MILES IN THIS. I told him nobody was offering anyway, and he wouldn't be able to run twenty six point two miles in the sunshine so it really didn't matter. (P.S I love my Dad!)

So the race started with the announcer saying to the runners, "Oh, sorry about all the wind for the first six miles." Yeah, thanks for the warning. When I read all the race reports from Green Bay though, I realize now that those first few miles into the wind were nothing in comparison. And really, if you're going to have wind, it might as well be at the beginning when you have all that overflowing adrenaline.

My plan was to keep the 3:50 pace group in my sights for the first hour or so and then start to let them pull away. However, they took off quite a bit over their pace to I decided to hang back. I told myself that as long as the 4:00 pace never caught up with me I would be ok. I felt really, really, strong for the first third of the race and by mile 7 I realized that I had caught up to the 3:50 group. Ooops! I even ran a couple miles in the 8:30 range which was not the smartest thing but I felt soooo good. Coming up on mile 12 the 3:50 group picked up the pace again and this time I held back for real. Around this time the half marathoners split from those running the full. Basically EVERYONE went off to the right, leaving me to follow ONE GUY up the steepest hill we would have all day. I actually turned around to look behind me and saw no one. Ok, so this is how it's going to be, I thought.

I crossed 13.1 at just under 1:56 and settled in for the second (slightly different) loop. Oh hey, did I mention that they changed the course this year so that the first few miles are more hilly? And not the kind of hills that you notice right off the bat, but the kind that just slowly creep up until you wonder why you're so dang tired. Needless to say miles 14-17 were much harder than miles 1-3. I kept worrying that I was losing speed but my Garmin kept checking off sub-9 minute miles so things were still good. It was just taking more out of me this time around.

Then at Mile 17 I got a side stitch on my right side. UGH. This was the worst because it made it very painful to take deep breaths and I always feel like the reason why I'm good at long distance running is because I'm able to keep my breathing so slow and relaxed. I could feel right away that taking shorter, quicker breaths was starting to really affect me. I started chugging the rest of my water bottle and actually trying to massage the cramp out of my rib cage while I was running. It must have looked silly but there was no way I was going to be able to run 9 miles like this. It turns out I only had to endure about 3 because by mile 20 it had finally subsided.

I was still running pretty much by myself but during the side stitch drama a couple of people passed me as my splits hovered at just below 9 minutes. Then, as I made my way up another stinking hill towards mile 20, a woman coming toward me in her car actually slowed down almost to a stop and hung out the window shouting, "YOU GET IT GUUURL! DON"T YOU STOP RUNNING! YOU GO!" and I about died. It was so awesome and irritating at the same that I started cracking up. As I Trudged. Up. The. Stupidest. Hill. Ever.

This race report is taking a long time. Bear with me, it's almost over.

Then I got to my favorite part of the course where we wind through a wooded park and the pain in my side was starting to subside. This was around the time last year that my besties found me for like the sixth time and Krista high fived me on the course. I remember the exact spot where it happened and it put a huge smile on my face remembering it. Although I wasn't feeling as strong after dealing with the last few miles I was doing the math in my head and I was pretty sure I was going to PR at this point as long as I could keep my splits between a 9:30 and 10 minute mile. In order to make SURE I would get it I decided to try and keep them under 9:30.

Miles 22-26 splits: 9:05 9:19: 9:25 9:25 9:40…. I started passing a bunch of people at this point who were walking and even though I was getting slower and slower and I felt good about the fact that I was still running. I kept thinking about how easy a time goal can slip out of your hands. If I walked and couldn't get going again it would be all over. When I hit 26 on my Garmin I started to speed up (even though I hadn't quite hit 26 on the actual course. Darn!)

My favorite part about the Rockford Marathon is even though those last couple of miles are particularly lonely (and pretty much spectator-free) nobody really sees your lowest point. I was pretty much a zombie through mile 24 and 25 as I just kept staring at my feet in front of me. And then there's this glorious turn at 26 miles where you round the corner, see the finish and get to run DOWNHILL all the way there. Even if your legs are dead you get so much momentum coming down that stretch and it feels amazing. (Side note, I always cry at mile 26. It just happens.) As I came around the bend the first thing I noticed were my friends Jeff and Kimi with their two little boys cheering me on while Jeff shouted "SUB-4 BABY!" I waved at them like a goofball and scanned the crowd further until I came up on my husband Jason taking photos next to my aunt and uncle. He flashed me a rock n roll sign and howled as I went by. Looking at my splits now, I see that the last half mile of the race was my fastest. That is so crazy to think about.

And then I finished with a 3:56:02. A PR by over 2 1/2 minutes.



Splits: 8:46 8:50 8:49 8:49 8:40 8:41 8:38 8:42 8:41 8:45 8:36 8:49 8:58 8:48 9:00 8:55 8:49 8:58 8:56 9:09 8:52 9:05 9:19 9:26 9:26 9:41 (3:38 for .47- 8:26 pace!)

My Garmin logged 26.47 miles, which I know isn't strange or anything but I can't help thinking that if I had hugged the corners more I would have shaved off a couple of tenths and gone under 3:55. Oh well, something new to shoot for I guess.
I found out the next day that I actually got third in my age group so that was a BIG surprise- and that's even with the female winner of the whole race being in my division! Not too shabby.

So that's all I got. If you made it this far, thanks for hanging in there. These race reports are really just a way for me to get all my emotions out while they are fresh and I start to forget everything about the day. To say that I am anything less than thrilled over this race would be an understatement. :)

Happy Mother's Day

One of my favorites:

I Couldn't Resist

I went to bed early last night and missed when the news broke about Bin Laden's death so I've been poring over news reports about it this morning. And while I certainly don't think this event is anything even close to the end of the so-called "War of Terror", I came across this photo on Facebook and I literally laughed out loud. LOL-ed. Guffawed.



Love it. So much.