perspective |

Today I got up ate a pre-run breakfast, dressed in the warm layers I’d laid out the night before for my Turkey Trot race, packed hydration, made a new mini-playlist, and headed to the race. I was excited to wear my new Reebok Cold Weather Compression tights that I got a super good deal on at the new Dick’s Sporting Goods that just opened near me. Things were going smoothly. Except halfway through my 45 minute drive to packet pickup and the race I heard the local radio station talking about turkey trotters running past their window and how cold they looked. Say WHAT??!!

I promptly asked Siri what time the Turkey Trot started only to find that it started at 8:00 a.m. not 9:00 a.m. like this past weekends trot. I had it in my pregnant brain that both trots started at 9:00. After triple checking my error, I turned the car around full of disappointment. I might have even cried a few tears. I know… no use crying over my first missed race by mistake except this was more than just a race for me. It was likely my last race before a long winter of mostly indoor runs and not racing. It may have been my last race pre-baby.

While I’m super excited to have this little one here, they are not going to be here for a while. And that is a long while to not race. I miss having a race on the calendar to look forward to. I miss anticipating the miles of the race ahead and the sights of the course. I miss having a training plan to follow. I miss running FAST!! Not that I would have been going fast today, but it would have been a race regardless. In Wisconsin there are very few races between December and March and the few that take place may be too snowy and slippery for me to do so I can’t really count on those.

So I let the tears come and went on my own turkey trot around my neighborhood. It was a slow trot as it was snowy on the roads. I’ll admit I worry about people’s judgements about pregnant woman running outside in the winter, but I also know I’ve run in the winter outside for the past 14 years and I know a thing or two about winter running. I also would never run outside if I didn’t feel it was safe or that I’d be risking anything. A few miles later and I felt so much happier, calmer and ready to be thankful for everything I have and for this little one on the way. So grateful to be having a healthy pregancy and baby thus far.

Tomorrow we are halfway to their arrival. I know that halfway will feel long in terms of running and racing, but it seems so exciting and terrifying that in 20 weeks I will have a child. Crazy! I know all the runs inside and the fewer miles will be so worth the blessing on the way. Running always brings me perspective and calms the thoughts in my head.

Hopefully your Turkey Trots went as you planned and you were given the chance to find some perspective and gratitude on this Thanksgiving Day.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Sarah

Warning! This race report does not have a happy ending.

On Saturday Ryan and I were set to run the Dances With Dirt Half Marathon. The race took place in Baraboo and began at 7:00 a.m., which meant an early wake up call for us. Early as in 4:20 a.m. after going to bed at midnight. I was less than excited to run after so little sleep, but I knew once we got going it would be great.

This would be our first real trail race. The race was extreme, meaning single track trail and roots and rocks. The first 2.5 miles were up hill all the way. I was excited for this challenging race.

Our course route was in blue.

The horn went off and we were off. The first mile started off as expected. It went up. The path was narrow, your eyes needed to be constantly on the ground to watch out for roots, rocks, and curves. It was also pretty crowded. Passing was very difficult and at times impossible. As we neared mile two a couple people said on your left meaning they were passing. I took my eyes off the trail to move over for a split second and just as mile two alerted me on my RunKeeper app, my left foot and a root had an altercation. I knew I had sprained my ankle the moment it happened. It was a familiar feeling from a Friday night stepping off a curb in college. Lets not relive that night.

If this were a road race I could have pulled off the course and Ryan could have easily kept going. This course was different. We didn’t know exactly where the first water stop was. We thought it was likely one or two miles ahead. This means I had to walk on a single track trail with roots, rocks, and a sprained ankle for over a mile with people trying to get around us constantly. Making it worse were the ~~million~~ gazillion mosquitoes biting as we walked the trail.

We came upon an aid station that a local had set up. By then my ankle was bulging over my shoe. It felt just awesome! The local told us the first official aid stop was still two miles ahead and there was likely no one there. We asked where the nearest road was so we could walk to it. I would then wait for Ryan to get the car and come to pick me up. She then said that if we walked a half mile or so down another trail she had her car parked nearby and would take us back to the start. I said sure and we began our walk to her car. She was my guardian angel that day!

It was at this time that Ryan asked if he could finish the race, but I did not hear him. Since I didn’t hear him say this he took the silence as a no. We got our ride back to the start, and Ryan turned our race bibs in so the organizers knew we weren’t lost in the woods some where. We were back on the road after running only two miles and walking nearly two miles; not the 13.1 miles we thought we were coming for. It was my first DNF (did not finish) of my life. I’ve never not finished a race. Not in middle school, high school, or beyond.

Later on the car ride home I felt terrible that I didn’t hear him. He took my no response as a no-way-in-hell are you going to finish the race. In reality I really would have liked him to finish, but I was pretty focused on getting off my foot. I said next year we’d have to be back so we could both finish. It was exciting to see Ryan’s disappointment in not getting to finish because I would feel the same way. I love that we both hate quitting things we start and not getting to finish things we worked hard for. I also think it means he likes running these things more than he lets on. He really was disappointed.

Once we got home it was RICE time for a bit. I’m hoping this sprained ankle heals quickly. My only thoughts in the woods were how I wanted to get off my ankle and get some ice on it. Once headed home I began to think a million thoughts. How would this injury impact my PR marathon training? Will I be able to PR? How long will I have to rest from running while my ankle heals? What will I do to stay in shape while it heals? Taking off a week doesn’t affect fitness, but more than that does! What will I do? What if I can’t run in Utah in less than two months? I immediately crossed this question out of my mind. I will run Utah even if it is slower than I want and not a PR attempt as planned. Two months is plenty of time to be back on the road.

Having never been injured I do feel lost. It is so weird to not be running-to have taken the past three mornings off and not be lacing up my shoes. I was feeling a lack in motivation about training during the summer, but was still getting in my runs. I’m going to look at this positively. Maybe the time off will have me rejuvenated and recommitted to my race goal. I think the mini-break will give me a fresh mind set and make me reappreciate my love of running. I will have to ease back into training and then really work hard during the few weeks before the taper. August’s Runner’s World has an article about Killer Weeks and the improvement runners can make by bringing two weeks of pain to their training plans and see significant gains in their training. I guess Killer Weeks are in my future. I can and I will.