As we rounded the corner following the dirt road up to No Name Ridge, the smell of breakfast awakened me from my stupor. “We have to be close to the aid,” I said, imagining thick, sweet pancakes filled with blueberries and chocolate. Breakfast almost sounded too good to be true and I hoped that the aid station was close. Behind us the sunrise had grown from a yellow hue that lightened the night sky and stole the stars…
In preparation for Cascade Crest 100 at the end of August, I’ve started incorporating higher volumes in my weekly training. While I was looking forward to a long solo run this weekend in San Diego, the appeal of running with others in Big Bear was too strong. So, like any sane person, I signed up for the race five days before and with a whole lot of mileage on my legs. After several weekends of…
I never thought I’d be here. In fact, I promised my mom when I started dating Nick that I would never do these types of races. By “these types” of races, that meant anything over a half-marathon. I’m a trustworthy person, but I broke that promise. I ran a bunch of 50Ks, R2R2R, a gnarly 50-mile race in Santa Barbara and then this: Zion 100. I think the idea situated itself in my head after…
As I sit here post-race, my legs propped up on a stool and a cold kombucha doing little to aid in reducing lactic acid build-up in my body, I can’t help but be slightly terrified at the prospect of running Zion 100-mile in three weeks. It will my first hundred. Part of the reason for my terror is because of the way my body currently feels (i.e., fatigued, stiff) and part of it is because…
I can wrap this race report up quickly: altitude is not my friend. Fainting during a hot Fourth of July Parade in Aspen, Colorado. Traveling to Ecuador for the summer and staying at a hacienda at 3,600m (11,800 feet) for a week. I spent five of those seven days in bed, nursing cups of an herbal tea I was handed to help cure me of my nausea and, moreso, the depression of missing out on the chance to…
Earlier this year, Nick and I scoured Ultrasignup, looking for a competitive 50K that we could work towards. Molly’s Whoo’s in El Moro 25/50K (WIEM) fit the bill: it was relatively close to San Diego (Newport Coast), looked beautiful and, best of all, was competitive–which meant that we would by default have to work on our speed, something that both of us needed to do; Nick, to improve upon his 50-mile and 100-mile races, and…
First thoughts pre-race: Jade: This is awful! I don’t want to start the race stressed about getting there on time! Why didn’t we look up the starting directions last night? I’m cold. It’s cold. It better warm up in the desert. I’m excited! Nick: Damn, this is a way longer drive than I thought. Shit, we’re going to be late to the start. I’ve got no time to stretch. Oh no, my GPS battery is…
Compared to most ultra runners and adventure fiends, I haven’t been running long. In fact, outside of a few 5Ks and 10Ks I ran with my friends during my teens, I’ve been running weird amounts for about as long as I’ve been dating Nick. Yes, I’ve noticed the correlation. Two years ago, I picked Nick up from the Rabbit Peak race he’d just finished. He had promised we would spend the rest of the afternoon hiking,…
“What are you doing?” I asked Nick as he patted my back on the second loop of the 50K, 3-loop course at the Born to Run Ultramarathons. “Just brushing down your hackles,” he replied with a laugh. ———————————- Three months earlier Nick had traveled down to Urique, Mexico to run the Ultra Caballo Blanco with the Tarahumara and other Mas Locos. I admitted my jealousy of his trip when he returned and I think he…