"Where are the dreams that we once had?
This is the time to bring them back.
What were the promises caught on the tips of our tongues?
Do we forget or forgive?
There's a whole other life waiting to be lived when...
One day we're brave enough
To talk with Conviction of the Heart." - Conviction of the Heart by Kenny Loggins

Today was training - 3 hours and about 19 miles worth, to be precise. It was hot (91) and it was humid (85%) and it was perfect, mainly because I ran with conviction. I've been doing some thinking lately and with everything going on in the world, it seems we have lost a little bit of our way. Of course, this is a running blog and I have a general rule on social media which is to stay far far away from charged topics, particularly those having to do with politics, religion and OJ Simpson (don't ask) But it doesn't mean they're not somewhere in my head, rolling around, especially on Memorial Day weekend, when we look back at those who risked everything. and speaking of risks...

There was another reason why today was poignant for me. It was due to Craig Williams. He died last night. I didn't know him personally but I know his beautiful and thoughtful wife, Susan Williams, as a volunteer for the Oil Creek 100 miler in Titusville PA (ed note: she's not a runner, not even close but she supports the community she's known her whole life). Anyway, back to Craig - he was involved in a terrible biking accident about two weeks ago. He held on for a while but ultimately succumbed to his injuries. It got me thinking about the risks we take in life and how to balance those, especially those that are wrought with physical danger. Ultrarunning carries a great deal of risk but so does owning a motorcycle, getting on a plane, parkouring through the city, riding on a bicycle... do we remove that potential for danger by excusing ourselves from participating? Or do we embrace it because we have only one life? I prefer to subscribe to the idea that we need to take risks, if for nothing else, to really experience life. Not just the same life everyone else experiences but the REAL LIFE experiences, different as they are for each person. I know that if I didn't do this (this = ultrarunning), I'd miss SO MUCH. Like Antelope Canyon, a flashback to a race in March 2015:

I mean, HOLY HELL, look at that... so as I ran today, as I always do, I attempted to take in the small things, the reasons I run, the little 'nuances of nature' as I call them, that we miss. Granted, it was no Antelope Canyon but I wouldn't have seen this gaggle of baby ducks:

Nor this newfound trail cut-through:

If I hadn't gone for a long run today. So really, where's YOUR conviction of the heart? I know where mine is. I know where Craig Williams was - and each of us has to decide when, where and how to embrace ours. This is it. Life is fleeting. 

"One with the earth, with the sky
One with everything in life
I believe we'll survive
If we only try..."

In the spirit of summer finally arriving in DC, I signed up for Habanero 100 in Smithville Texas. It's exactly one month (August 20) after Badwater 135 (July 18-20) Someone has to the the first person to do the two hottest races in the country within a month of each other. Right?

So yesterday I ran in an "event" called the Texas Treasure Quest put on by none other than Trail Racing Over Texas (TROT).  I call it an "event" for two reasons - one, I wasn't racing it. Two, it's less a "race" and more a strategic expedition. I decided a couple of weeks ago to come to Texas for it mainly b/c DC weather has been a real fickle b*tch lately and all the glorious DC heat and humidity has been on hiatus since I started training for Badwater 2015 and 2016 over a year ago. So I figured 12 hours on my feet in the dry Texas heat would be perfect. Side note - it was great training. It was most definitely NOT dry. 

Anyway, the race itself is held on this KILLER horse ranch near Sealy TX called the 7IL ranch. It's just spectacular and I was interested in seeing the ranch prior to my fall 100, Blazing 7s, which will also be held there. So you can see the justification behind my decision to venture once again, to a favorite town of mine. 

Ok, anyway, let's get back to this "event". The way it works is that there are several primary trails that weave all over this mainly pancake flat ranch for a total mileage of about 40 miles. Because they constantly intersect each other and and criss-cross, you can essentially get from point A to point B fairly easily, which makes the idea of an open scavenger hunt very viable. 

There's a HUGE strategy behind this because once you have 5 stamps, you must return back to the start-finish area, have your stamps logged and then you go back out. You can only get each stamp once and because Rob Goyan is smart, he likes to add a wrinkle, which was that each stamp has a certain point value. Not surprisingly, the harder to reach/find stamps are worth more, the close in stamps are worth less. To make it even more interesting there were 5 bonus items that you could bring back (if you could find them) for additional point accumulation but most were things you wouldn't want to carry around with you should you be out there mid-collection, like a 10 lb kettlebell. So dragging that back means losing time. Speaking of, when your cut-off is coming up, you have to make a choice to try to run out and squeeze in more or stay back b/c each minute you miss coming back in for your cutoff is a point lost. After 30 minutes, you're DQed. Trust me when I say it's surprisingly easy to get lost on this course later in the day. I know. I did and kept going in circles come 2pm or so. 

But did I mention in the midst of these rules that it was ridiculously FUN? Because holy cow, it was a blast. You'd be amazed how fast you can run when you see a small sign off in the distance and you know it's something you've been looking for. Or how fast time goes when you stop watching your Garmin Fenix 2 (which died anyway... useless brick of a device that it is)? And this ranch... oh my god was it gorgeous:

So it was really a marvelous place to run and great day for it ... except for the trail conditions. Wanna see?

The course was under a ridiculous amount of water and the mid-morning severe thunderstorms made it so bad that one of the water crossings I had to traverse twice was waist-deep for me. WAIST DEEP. I realize I'm a bit of a shorty at 5'3" but an ark would've been a more appropriate vessel to navigate with than my feet. The good news is I didn't have blisters and the muddy Sketchers held up reasonably well. I say "reasonably" well because they didn't make it into my suitcase to come back home. I'm going to try going back to Altras for BW135 after having tried out a few post-race. 

At any rate, it was crazy fun, TROT and Rob know how to put on one seriously well-run race (<- HA! See what I did there?!) and I'll definitely be back next year... if for nothing else but to hear the cheers of the race staff each time I came in, usually spoken in with a bit of a pirate accent. It was a dAARRRRRRn good time. 

"But every time it rains,
You're here in my head,
Like the sun coming out--
Ooh, I just know that something good is going to happen.
And I don't know when,
But just saying it could even make it happen." - Cloudbusting by Kate Bush

It's rained and been cold for weeks. Hardly what I'd call appropriate training weather for BW135. Today was magical though because suddenly, it stopped. And while it wasn't very warm (ed note: I wore gloves. In May. Just let that sink in...)  it was enough for a few hours of my favorite time of the day to run - sunrise. 

On top of that, I managed to negative split my run which is like, the greatest thing to happen on a long run. I have two months and two days until I leave for Vegas with my amazing crew in tow. So as I sit here and review my upcoming training plan including next week's Texas Treasure Quest race, which is really just a 12 hour hot but hella fun training run, it seems apropos to think back to last year and some of the amazing highlights. 

First, while the race is grueling and it's hard as f***, it's also a hell of a lot of fun. And why shouldn't it be? No one wants to work their ass off training for months, pay thousands, take off a week from work and family and suffer if you can't enjoy at least parts of it, amirite?! And clearly, we did:

There's a lot of running, especially when it's "cool" at night (aka only around 100 degrees):

And there's a LOT of walking, particularly when it hits the mid 120s:

And if I were to tell you how much your emotions range in this race, I'd sound like a manic-depressive, bi-polar, multiple personality psychotic because I laughed, I cried, I became furious, I whined, I bargained, I went numb and I became full of vivid color... it's really hard to express how this race affects your soul but those who do it year after year understand. And last year I was indoctrinated into that magical, special, tiny group because it's all I can think about. I swore during miles 90 to 120 I'd never come back but the moment I stopped, I knew I was kidding myself. Sometimes we run to find peace, to find answers, to find solace and escape, to find truths, to find the shortest route, to find the longest route, to find a break from reality... the list goes on and on. All I know is that on any given day, I run to find all those things but I run Badwater to find myself. And I need that again. I'm out there, somewhere. I can't wait to find it - the strength, the grit, the will, the resolve, the real me.

"​And you're just in reach
When you and sleep escape me...."

Badwater Salton Sea, finish #3. 23:59. Not my best time on the course but as is standard for any AdventureCorps race, nothing was surprising, yet everything was (un)expected. What do I mean by that? Basically, as is the case with all of Chris Kostman's races, you can plan for anything and still get caught off-guard. 

As I mentioned in the previous post, 2014 included extreme conditions including heat, dust storms, extreme cold, sleet and heavy fog (in that order) 2015 presented even hotter temps but we were rewarded with a clear and relatively warm evening portion that culminated in one of the most breath-taking sunrises I have ever seen in my life. As you can see below, I was up to around 5600 feet but the entire valley below me was blanketed with a cloud canopy. After a night of calm, it was one of the greatest moments I've experienced so close to the finish line and made the 11 mile hike up worth every step. 

This year, the sunrise was quite beautiful as well (although, really, 2015 set the bar high)

As you can see, no canopy but just as beautiful. Anyway, I'm jumping ahead of myself. Let's go back to the beginning and tell the full story. 

The start of this race is really unique - we essentially form a group standing on what is left of the shore of the Salton Sea (which, if you've never heard of this place, look it up. Its history is fascinating, to say the least), listen to the national anthem, take a bunch of photos and then Chris sends us on our way, scampering through "sand" made from dead fish bones:

My teammate, Todd and I took off and just like last year, settled into an easy 5.5 mph pace while it was still relatively cool [ed note: that quickly became 5.0 and 4.5 MPH but that's pretty typical for this race] Unlike last year, the temps were 20 degrees cooler and we had a small(ish) dust storm midday. The good news is it passed pretty quickly and it didn't wreck my asthma. The bad news is that it was still hot - 88 degrees with almost no humidity which can test the heartiest of souls. Personally, I was made to run races in the heat, however Todd is a polar bear and he struggled a bit early on. We managed to stay away from the "red zone" and that conservative approach paid off in spades later on. 

Much like last year, we traded stories about how life had progressed for both us and our families since we last saw each other at BW135 back in July. Those first 40 miles are the toughest in the course and true to form, several runners ended up dropping before they were over. Once we realized we were at the trail section which picks up at 40, we felt much more confident in our finish. Last year Todd was hit with a terrible heat stroke and ended up dropping at the end of the trail section. The 6 or so hours it took us to get through that was pure misery in the form of severe dehydration, vomiting and near collapse for Todd and frustration, fear and utter desperation for me. This year we arrived and he was in great spirits which meant I was too. And I was NOT disappointed in what happened up there....

Even the impending thunderstorm and hail that was happening at the top didn't dampen my spirits - I was going to have a TEAM finish this year. So with our gear and lights, we set off at 4:30, the absolute last minute we could start ascending without getting DNFed from the time cutoff (told you we stayed conservative.)

The steep rocky climbs were like a homecoming - I love this trail. It's only 8 miles but it feels like 18. It climbs over 4k feet over that 8 miles so you can see how steep it is. The fastest teams get over it in just under 3 hours. I was hopeful we could come close. 

We did great for about the first mile, then once again the wheels came off. Todd was struggling due to his (insane but awesome) weight loss, paleo-esque lifestyle. In dedicated form, he eschews most carbs, particularly the evil simple sugars. This is great for weight loss, terrible for endurance sports. And it hit him hard. After much pleading, whining and finally demanding on my part, my partner-in-crime agreed to eat all the sugary carbs I had and BOOM, he not only rose from the dead, he turned into a man with a mission. [Side note: I gave him the best simple sugars money can buy, from Skratch labs.  Seriously, this stuff is amazing] We conquered the trail section in 3:29. I AM NOT EVEN KIDDING. 

So off the trail we came and it was now the "easiest" and my most favorite part of this race - the last 31 miles. We paid homage to the ultra gods by getting our requisite Ranchetti photo:

Not gonna lie - the evening is always my favorite time but this one was tough. It was colder than last year and while those temps were well within Todd's sweet spot, I had to continually move in order to keep from freezing to death. During the evening, we were also "gifted" with light snow/sleet/rain type of precipitation that only served to make it tougher. By about 1 am we were both zombies. Our crew was VERY GOOD at pushing us out of the warm Tahoe before we could get too comfortable which is key in any race. More than 20 minutes of sitting/warming up means a runner is far more likely to get too comfortable and drop out (aka DNF). However, we kept at it and between us, we moved much like an old married couple, choosing, at times, to stay very close, chatting and laughing, while occasionally distancing ourselves from each other as much as we could without so much as a word. 

As with all things, the dark times come to an end and the sun starts rising, a new day once again breaking on the horizon. Anyone who's ever done a race that goes overnight knows a lot about what I like to call "the dark place." It's the time between 1:30 or so and sunrise. The body and mind are at odds with one another, the former craving sleep so badly that it's palpable, the latter pushing pushing pushing to keep going, if only to the next aid station. To say it takes a lot of heart and soul to forge on is an understatement. It was for this reason I was so proud of Todd - as exhausted as he was, he kept going. I could see him falling asleep on his feet yet he kept moving forward. He had a hell of a tough day and was having a tougher night, yet he never gave up. It's those small moments of sheer pride and happiness I had for him and in that, I knew we would be ok. And we were because the sun rose and suddenly, not only would we finish, we were within the realm of possibility that we could break 24 hours. And just like that, we did. The fanfare of the finish line lasted just long enough for the runners behind us to come and steal it away, as is always the case in any ultra. But in the moment, we both basked in what we had done. We showed up, we worked hard and we were rewarded. In short, we accomplished what we came for and in that time, we grew a little more. The third time really was a charm.