New Year, New... Ugh!

By Rae Hedlund

Welcome to another year, DRC! Looking back at 2015, I’m blown away by all the things our club has accomplished: members have joined and become confident and consistent runners; people have run their first races or tackled new distances; we have shared stories, told more about our lives before running and how running has changed us. It’s truly incredible to see the things our club has done over the last year.

I’ve spent the past year helping with the DRC blog, encouraging you to share your stories, and I have loved every minute of it. Every story you’ve told has been an inspiration to me personally, and I’m so thankful to have been a part of it thus far. Starting out another year, I feel excited just seeing the things to come, with the 2016 Penny Challenge, our month of speedwork in April, and other fun things in the works, it’s all so exciting! But can I share something with you that hasn’t been exciting me lately? Resolutions.

For some years now, I’ve felt completely overwhelmed by the “New Year, New You!” concept. Those of you that know me know I’m an extrovert (Gasp! Shocking!), and while I’m great at seeing a big-picture concept, achieving the final product leaves me feeling confused and muddled—the details elude me. Ask me to tell you my “resolutions” and I get frazzled because I have a lot of things I’d love to accomplish, but don’t know what is reasonable and what isn’t. To be honest, there is also a part of me that’s just cynical about resolutions. Think of all the memes out there about people going to the gym in January... and not going after that! Those memes are how I’ve always looked at resolutions.

Not gonna lie, I think they based this off something I said once.

I'd tell you to disregard the year, but this shows that I'm not the only one who thinks this way!

Well, I’m here to say sorry. I’m sorry for being cynical, and I’m sorry (okay, only a little) for being so easily stressed over a pastime that most people embrace. However, I’ve shifted my thinking over the last couple years to try to see “resolutions” as goals- and I’m always excited to talk about my goals! I have some for the year (volunteering and decluttering, to name a couple), but my main goal is to be gracious with myself. The idea of being gracious, compassionate, or just kind to myself came during my 50-miler last year, and I’ve tried to keep that idea alive.

This year is starting out particularly directionless for me. Being 34 weeks pregnant, I’m just thankful for every moment my body feels good being active. Over and over, I’ve been encouraged to “listen to my body,” while also being prodded to be cautious and not overdo things. So, this year, I consider it a  goal to continue having a healthy pregnancy. With that in mind, I have just tried to be gracious with myself while doing what I love: I love running! But I also know that I need to take walking breaks, or cut a run short; there are also times, though, where I know the discomfort I’m feeling stems not from pregnancy, but from running just being tough.

Starting off my year in my third trimester has thrown my already easily overwhelmed, non-detail-oriented brain into a tizzy. How can I set fitness goals? Can I get close to last year’s mileage, or is that out of the question? What do I even want my goals to be? I’m not much for racing and have none on my calendar for the year, and I’m okay with that! I’ve learned that I don’t need a race as motivation, that I just like to see what my body can do, and with DRC to keep the motivation flowing I know I’ll continue running (thanks, DRC!).

No races, no mileage goal, I really do feel directionless! At the same time, though, I’m looking forward to some awesome volunteering opportunities—it is so inspiring to see others pushing themselves, getting to help them on their way is just way too cool. I’m hoping to get to pace some friends this year as they go out to crush their goals, because what better way to give back to those who have helped me in my own running journey? Even continuing to encourage you DRCers to share your running stories with the rest of us through the blog is something I’m looking forward to this year!

What does this all mean, then? Here I am, somewhat goalless but looking forward to a full year. Honestly, I feel a little empty about it, but also kind of excited to see what the year will bring; with nothing in my sights, anything that comes across my horizon will be an adventure I’ll be floored to take part in. I love seeing the goals/resolutions of other DRCers, because I know that I’ll be setting goals sometime this year, just not in January. I feel directionless, but I know that I’m not.

MT Madness: Do ALL the Things!

By Stacy Allen

Going to the Mark Twain Endurance Race involved a lot of firsts for me: I earned my trail name, paced my running role model, helped aid tons of runners, and supported my best friend through his biggest run to date. It was a beautiful, memorable day, but it didn’t start off that way.

When Greg signed up for the 50-mile race, I wanted so much to be there for him. After I finally asked him if I could go, he agreed (DUH), but I sort of felt like I had just pushed myself into his race, and I changed my mind. I talked with Meghan about how I was feeling and she encouraged me to go to support Greg and be a part of the DRC AS. This made me feel better about it, and made me feel more like I was needed there, so I was again happy to go! A couple days after I had committed to the AS, Rae messaged me and asked me to pace her for nine miles of her second loop. Hell yes I will! I was so excited and honored to be a part of her big day! I’d get to be a part of her day, help all the other runners, and cheer on my guy!

Early morning, we arrived at MT, and I got to see Greg and the others off before heading to the DRC AS. During this time, I found out Rae wanted to use me for 20 miles so, yep, I agreed. Watching those first few people come through our AS with bloody hands and knees was such an inspiration of just how tough runners are. I was so impressed with Meghan, Stacey, and the other volunteers—they were so enthusiastic and happy to serve these people and care for them! Such a kickass group of people!

Me, Meghan, and Mark (Rae's husband) at the AS.

After a while at the AS, Rae was ready for me. We started out at a nice running pace and then slowed to more walking/hiking. Ugh... I was ready for 20 miles on fresh legs, I just wanted to run! But wait... I reminded myself, Rae has 25 miles on her legs and a pregnant belly. This is her race, I’m here for her! I turned from focusing on the run to focusing on Rae: her conversation, body language, hydration, and general spirits. She was amazing. Just like on pavement runs, she has a fluidity to her form, she looks like she is gliding whether she is running an 8-minute mile or hiking a 13-minute mile. It’s something to be admired.

We were faring well and I felt great. Rae mentioned having some pain in a tendon and it was starting to play head-games with her. From my point of view (booty all day), I couldn’t tell she was hurting, so I just focused on making sure she stopped for her many (many) pee breaks because that’s how I knew she was hydrating.

Around mile 40, Rae had a moment of insanity... WHT am I supposed to do?? She is crying/laughing hysterically, but this seems pretty normal for pushing your pregnant body 40 miles... So I let it happen, until she started to slide down a ravine! I wasn’t going to let that happen!! She regained her composure and we headed out with the DRC AS as our reward for getting through the next five emotional miles. As we got closer, we heard angels from above calling out to Rae (Stacey and Mark were banging drums and yelling!), and I knew that was exactly what she needed to get up that hill and into the arms of our awesome crew, who were happily waiting to care for her and feed her!

This is where I left Rae after 20 miles. Honestly, I wanted to finish that run with her, but I knew she needed to regain her composure and finish this with her hubs, and I needed to be at the finish to watch my love come across that finish line! I made it with about 10 minutes to spare before I saw him come out of the woods and cross that line. He looked so strong and incredible to me in that moment! I know it took so much for him to get through the final ten miles, but he isn’t one ever to give up- he has always been my encouragement and inspiration to be a better running. Running into his arms as he crossed that finish line was the best feeling! I was so, so proud of him!

All that was left to complete my day was to watch my girl come across that line. As darkness fell, I was a little worried, but I had zero doubts that she would run across that finish line, strong and confident. Seeing her come across was badass, no other way to put it! MT was an awesome experience, getting to aid, participate, and cheer; I can’t wait to run my own 50-miler soon!

MT Madness: What I Learned at MT

By Meghan McCarrick

How much gear can I fit in this truck? What am I forgetting?  Ugh, I wish I had packed this in tubs.  Obviously, I will need to stop at Walmart.   Ok, pulling out of the driveway, what is that noise??  What is he yelling??  OMG, I forgot my duffle.  Hmm…he said he put it in the cab already, that means that all the bananas and apples are still in the house, too.  I am never going to get on the road.  Ok, on the road…with my clothes this time.  Shoot, I need to stop for ice…like now.  I hope I remember the directions to Berryman.   Of course I do.  …maybe I should check.

To me, aid stationing translated to bring ALL the things and then bring duplicates of all the things.  THEN, find your clearheadedness once the race begins.  So, with all of the things in the truck, I pulled onto 44 to head down to one of my favorite Missouri spots to spend the weekend watching some of my favorite DRC peeps running at the 4th Annual Mark Twain Endurance Races.  I knew how to encourage hydrating and fueling, I knew how to cheerlead, I am comfortable helping dress a wound, but there was an area for which I was unprepared: pushing runners into believing in themselves, especially when they have willingly fallen prey to their own excuses.  I even had warning that there was some concern over our inexperience in dealing with hundred mile runners, but I figured we could handle anything thrown at us, especially with the clearheadedness.

Plenty of people roll into a 20 (or 45 or 70 or 95) mile aid station looking like dog crap, that’s no surprise.  Racing, especially on trails, is really no joke.  It is typically easy enough to encourage a little eating, drinking, filling up packs and then giving a quick kick in the pants to get a runner back out there and moving.  Sometimes you meet someone like “Power Nap”, who literally passes out in the chair, then pops back up and heads right back to the trail.  Or someone like “Santa”, who drops in, tells you his running history, talks about family, has some tea, then strolls to the finish knowing he’ll miss cut off, but isn’t willing to throw in the towel.  Occasionally, a runner needs some company and trail angels like Shari willingly walk with them to the finish.  Lots of times, people want to stop, and that is understandable.  They hurt.  They are exhausted.  They have lost focus.  Every OTHER time, we got them warmed up and heading back toward their goal.  Except for one time.

It was my turn to grab a snooze.  It was probably around 1:30 in the morning and though I doubted I could sleep, I climbed in the tent and covered myself with 2 quilts, and I tried.  I heard a runner approach, had some major FOMO, but squeezed my eyes shut and ignored it.  About 20 minutes later, I heard conversation with the same runner.  I shot up in “bed” (we’re gonna use that term loosely), popped on my shoes, and jumped out to see why in the world he was still there.   I walked over to the fire and one of the top male contenders in the 100 was sitting comfortably with no clear intention of leaving anytime soon.  I asked what was going on, he lazily chewed on a piece of pizza and mentioned lots of muscles, all lower leg, achilles, soleus, some ankle stuff, but he was pretty calm. I brought over a roller and he made a excruciating moan as I ran it up the inside of that lower leg.  But, c’mon, this is at 70 miles, plus he’s been sitting!  I tried getting him to stretch, he wouldn’t budge, he said he would try to walk to the next aid station… eventually, still making no move to get up.  I texted the volunteers and RD there and told them quickly what was going on.  I had noticed this runner was dehydrated earlier in the day and he had already admitted that he traveled a little too quickly his first 25 mile lap.  So, I offered to hike it out with him, knowing the guys we’d meet weren’t going to let him quit when I got him to home base.  I said we’ll just walk and if you feel like running, I will try to keep up.  It’ll be fun!  And then I said it with a bit harder voice, get your ass up.  Well, sometimes that works.  In this case, he tried and nearly fell over.  He cramped up and had to hold onto the chair.  I can’t be sure, but I think he had probably been sitting for 30 minutes, taking all that time to decide he was dropping out.  And that is what he wanted…a lift back.  I texted the start again and said to expect us.  We drove up the little wooded passage to the road and I kept prying to see if I could just turn around and we’d at least try to walk there. Every time he put on an anguished face or groaned, or grabbed at his leg.  I let guilt get to me and stopped questioning his decision.  We pulled up, he got out—a little more agilely than I expected—and within 10 minutes was walking with only a slight limp in flip flops back to his car.  I had looked at this guy as vulnerable and needing help and really having an injury that wouldn’t let him complete this race.  I TOTALLY GOT PLAYED.   And my inexperience totally screwed this guy's chances.

                                                                                                 

When performing a difficult task, our brain gives us all the reasons we need to just stop.  Our brain is doing its job; this is self-preservation.  The purpose of these ultra distance races is to challenge those excuses by maintaining the belief that the task can be endured. Sometimes, even a seasoned athlete, when tired, disillusioned, and in pain, loses sight and needs the reminder that unless there is a real injury, the excuses are ignorable.  Instead of pushing perseverance, which we talk about all the time in DRC, I allowed a runner to give his excuses power.  I have spent a lot of time thinking about that DNF. What I learned at MT is that it isn’t only about the gear or food or morale at an aid station.  I learned that the responsibility of preserving or restoring belief might momentarily fall in volunteer hands.  In the future, if those hands are mine, I am confident that I will recognize and focus on what is necessary to convince every runner to continue.   So, because of what I learned at MT, don’t plan to cut out from an aid station that I’m manning unless you are missing limb…even then, you’ll have to find a whole new level of energy to convince me you can't keep going.

Congratulations to all of you DRCers that ran MT this year, it was such a huge honor to be there in support of you guys!

Meg McC is first and foremost an active DRC member.  She is an avid runner when she isn't injured and an enthusiastic volunteer when she is.  The Berryman Trail is near and dear to her heart and she loves an opportunity to spend a weekend there, especially during a weekend with a SLUG Ultra.

MT Madness: Those Who Can’t, Volunteer

By Stacey Hagen

This was my second year volunteering at the MT ultramarathon. For me, this year would set a PR for volunteer hours for one event, with Meg and I pulling an all-nighter. Meg, in fact, arrived Friday afternoon and didn’t leave till Sunday afternoon! I was there from Saturday morning until Sunday afternoon. We helped set up, break down, and man the last aid station on the course (before the Start/Finish area). 

Our AS was pretty loaded!

HAVE ALL THE FOOD!

Throughout our volunteer experience, Meg and I discussed what we were learning from our time out there. The biggest thing we learned was that running 100 miles is really, really hard. No. Like reeeeeeallly freakin’ hard! When you see your friends- people you know to be very strong runners- out there struggling through the lows, it speaks clearly to the difficulty of the 100-mile endeavor. It is definitely not for the weak. And it is definitely not something to attempt unless you really want it, because you’re going to need that drive, that desire, to pull you through the tough low points. And there WILL be tough low points.

I don’t want to leave out the 50-milers because there were so many rock stars in that line-up. I’m particularly proud of our DRCers. DRC hit the trails, many attempting their first big ultras. Some found a profound sense of accomplishment, a milestone in their running career. Some found a renewed love for this sport that can have its ups and downs. Some went out there with the sole purpose of supporting their DRC peeps by running miles, lots of them. All of them, rockstars.  <3

Making shit happen.

Everyone out there amazed us. It was so incredibly awesome to see people come through looking very strong and determined, especially when the last time we saw them they were doubting themselves and looking rough. Volunteering at an ultramarathon is definitely a unique experience, especially if you remain for the entire event. Something that stood out to us after being there loop after loop for the runners is that you could see their relief when they would approach the aid station and see a familiar face. This was another tidbit of info we tucked away for future volunteer experiences: for runners, seeing someone that helped them out tremendously or someone with a lot of positive energy could be the one thing that gets them through a tough leg or helps them keep going. I heard from more than one racer that they could not wait to get back to our aid station, that it helped them a great deal. That meant a lot because we care a lot and we hoped our efforts were efficacious. 

We also learned that sometimes it’s tough to provide support for people you don’t know, especially in an ultramarathon. Trying to figure out what this person in front of you needs to help them continue, to help them persevere, is difficult to know. How can you know? You can’t! But, we care and we want to do all that we can for each and every person, so we go with our gut and we push them and we hope they’ll love us for it later. This brings me to the next thing we learned: you can make a lot of new friends volunteering, whether it’s racers, fellow volunteers, pacers, crew, etc. It’s pretty awesome! You get to interact with some pretty inspiring people.

Night AS! 

Of course, there were lots of little things we learned like labeling drinks, calling out people’s names when they arrived to our AS, having hot water prepared ahead of time to make warm drinks, blah, blah, blah. But, overall, we learned that giving back to our running community is something we LOVE to do! It can be so gratifying and meaningful. It is appreciated by your fellow runners (you know this),  but it can also be an eye-opener. It can help you better understand what you’re up for if you’re interested in attempting a similar type of race. So, I encourage you to volunteer. Give back! It is so good for you and the running community in so many ways!! You won’t regret it! And you just might leave the experience inspired.