are you there God, it's me Amanda...

Does anyone have a box of kittens they are willing to let me borrow? After the week I had, I need something soft and cuddly...

What's with this overly dramatic feline request? Training is ramping up for me in a big way. As it stood on my calendar, I needed to complete somewhere in the vicinity of 40-45 miles over the March 1st weekend. I can sense your skepticism, and trust me it is just.

I came off my 34 mile weekend feeling tired, but no major complaints. I thought so myself, "Hey, this isn't so bad! I'm going to be the female Anton Krupika!" What a stupid little fool I was.

I had intended to run 25 miles on Saturday, March 1st on the Soaring Eagle Trail out in Issaquah, WA. I now fully understand why my friends looked at me as if I needed a straight jacket. Running 25 miles on a single track trail just ain't gonna happen on a leisurely Saturday morning. After an hour and 30 min, I had run all of 6 miles! Oh hell no. I topped out at 15 miles in 3.5 hours and called it a job well done.

But at least the trails were beautiful, breathtaking even. The run, albeit a time sucker, was pleasant and shared in good company with my running buddy.

Sunday, however...

Sunday I woke up with what felt like swollen lymph nodes. Perfect. Given that I hadn't fully succumbed to the virus that was surely pending in my future, I knew how important it would be to get in a good long run because who knows what the coming days would bring.

I threw on my running clothes, tossed my hair in a run-bun, laced up and stepped out the door...into pouring down rain and mid-30 temps. Perfect.

Maybe it'll clear up? It didn't. I drove out to Renton for a 9 mile loop that runs around Lake Youngs. It's hilly and there's not much to entertain, but I figured it would allow me to refuel every lap and at least there's no chance of getting lost.

I set out for my first of 3 loops. Naturally I got 2 miles in and hail began to crash down upon me. Perfect.  Hell had, in fact, started to freeze over.

My trail soon turned to a river and I found myself flashing back to The Oregon Trail. "Will you ford this river?" Do I dare?

For 9 miles I would tell myself, "Only 4 more miles till you get a snack. You'll be glad you did this when you finish." The tone of the conversation plummeted from there. At one point I distinctly remember arguing with myself, and losing. These one-sided conversations (scattered obscenities throughout) continued for all 28 miles.

5 hours and 30 minutes I was out there. Frozen. Wet. Beaten, yet not quite broken. I prayed for the sweet relief of death but it never came. It poured every minute of that run, but somehow I managed to press on. My mind is a scary place, especially when I'm trapped inside it for that long with nothing but impending doom to occupy my thoughts.

My friends, this was a struggle. The greatest test of my will power (and mental faculties) to date, until April that is. But I live to run another day...every day. Day 65 and still running.

Double-fistin' it. Post-run recovery combo.

Truly I must take a moment and thank my running buddy Jill, who I missed dearly on ultra Sunday runday, and friend Lina, for her constant emotional support. Also, a huge shout out to all my Oiselle HQ peeps for supporting me as I bitched and complained for 5 days straight post-run. Everyone in the greater Seattle area knows about my woes.

Until next time.

a great adventure

Holy crap what a week! Training is ramping up quickly and I hit the 50-day landmark in my runstreak. During my travels, I have experienced a great deal of unique runner problems whose existence were previously unbenounced to me. Clearly, this is the less glamorous side of ultra running (as if there were any particularly glamorous side) so I feel responsibility to share my findings.

Exploring the bridges of King County. To the Arb!

1. Chafing...
You're shaking your head thinking, "Duh, every runner chafes..." Wrong. I thought I had experienced chafing too. Some casual thigh friction, a little armpit rubbing, even some smarts on the inside of my knees when they would occasionally collaborate thanks to some unfortunate form deficiency. The area gets a little red, irritated, and will sting in the shower no doubt. But this, this is a whole new monstrosity! Forming in areas I never knew could even chafe! My bloody, mutilated flesh looks like a scene straight out of Texas Chainsaw Massacre! I choose to establish permanent residence in baggy sweats not (only) because I am the physical embodiment of a fashion faux-pas, but rather out of the shear agony associated with less-forgiving fabrics. The most tragic part of this battle wound? No amount of anti-chafe serum can up against it! If you see me on the street with a hitch in my giddy up, don't be alarmed...that's just how I walk now.

2. Hip-Flexors...
Hello, so you do exist. Apparently, these little tendons work for a union because at any given point I am subject to a strike in the form of violent protest. "You want to run how many miles? That's not in our negotiated running contract. We regret to inform you that we are disinclined to acquiesce your request." That's is how I imagine hip-flexors would talk, provided they could. What follows is a series of spasms, some wobbling, followed by a complete stagnation of any forward movement. Cheers!

3. Bedtime...
My body now has me pinned under a strict bedtime that is non-negotiable. I thought my days of hitting the sack at 10:30pm were relatively early for someone in their mid-twenties. Pshhh. Eight year-olds stay up later than I do. Infants stay up later than I do! What began as a slight modification to 10pm, eventually became an exponentially steady decline well into single-digits of the 7pm-9pm variety (erring on the side of 8pm). Don't text me after 9pm, I'll probably be hours deep into my REM cycle. Ah to be young and reckless...

4. Social Life...
See above. Between my fashion (non)sense, the troubling verbal exchange I'm having between me and my hip-flexors, and my affinity for pillow time...my social scene suffers a wee bit.

5. Pain...
And finally, I've gained a new perspective on pain. I am well versed in pain, but this is somewhat uncharted territory for me. My legs feel great, until they don't anymore. Once I breach the threshold into latter part of my run, or like this weekend where I did back-to-back long runs, it seems I have a veritable out-of-leg experience that is simply other worldly. My legs are mine, then all of a sudden I feel like they've been replaced with robot legs sans shock absorption, coordination, or fluidity. It's like I'm trying to run on stilts, jarring me with every step. My joints ache, I feel elderly trying to get up and down out of chairs. In fact just this morning I considered renting the booth at Ihop for fear I would have to stay there permanently. Losing control of my faculties has been a rude awaking.

I hereby dub this run "Purple Rock Hill." Can you find it?

That being said, if these proceed to be my only hiccups I will consider myself lucky. I remain injury free (as you're reading this, you'll be hearing the faint sound of someone knocking on wood) and inspired. I managed to make it through a weekend of consecutive long runs, 14 on Saturday and 19 on Sunday, and remain in good spirits. I'm hopeful that I will be able to pry my ass off this couch for work in the morning. Next weekend will be another doozy. Until then, I bid thee adieu.

#keepingitreal

Ah, Valentine's Day. A day of chocolates, flowers and commercialism! We honor this social convention of giving sweets and treats to loved ones in hopes of creating a gradient of positive 'pr' points to hold us over until the next major holiday gift exchange. Sorry, I know you can taste the bitterness.

Even though I celebrate this day sans significant other, I still consider it a win. Day 45 of #streak365 started with a run and was promptly followed by raspberry-glazed donuts, clearly life isn't too bad.

But this week a particular topic has caught my interest, keeping it real. Oiselle's own Lauren Fleshman has sparked a revolution, challenging preconceptions about body image. Anyone with the bravery to make public their 'thigh cheese' is a champion of truth. This is the equivalent of (insert your favorite Hollywood actress) posting pictures of herself without makeup or Photoshop on her own free will. A professional runner with thigh cheese and a bloated belly? Consider the mystery of perfection shattered, and the illusion of reality fully realized. Finally.

As I've stated in the past, I constantly battle my own demons in this department right alongside all the other women on this planet I'm sure. Lauren's call to bear arms, bloated bellies, thigh cheese, love-handles and the like has finally tipped the scales in favor (pun intended) of the real woman.

So I thought I'd put my little piece of body image out into the universe.

This is me, I believe this was the last time I was in shape about 2 years ago.

And...this is me as a beached whale. Complete with frumpy face.

This is certainly not my worst photograph, but rather one of the few remaining that have not yet been burned to ashes and sent out to sea. Does posting these pictures make me feel empowered or somehow stronger? Nope. Does this help me better embrace all the imperfections? Absolutely not. I believe it is a powerful message, and I'd like to do my part to contribute.

I will get back to racing form, back to a place where I feel comfortable in my own skin. The difference now will be to achieve my own inner peace, not to fit some mold of 'skinny girls wins races' that seems to be the going rate these days.

It's about time to take a stand and embrace what it means to be human, imperfect, and yet beautiful. Join in on the challenge. #keepingitreal

In the meantime, I continue my runstreak and quest for 50-miler completion. I will be ready.

15 miles in fresh snowfall.

surreal

I keep asking myself, "did that just happen?" If I didn't have the pictures to prove it, I don't know that I would believe it...

Fleshman in the flesh!

Holy sh*t.

Seeing these incredible athletes in person has a dream come true. Like movie stars, you grow up watching them in near disbelief that they truly exist beyond the magazines and television coverage. To meet them? Laugh with them? Even run with them? I'm still without words. Being a part of the Oiselle runfamily has opened up a whole new world for me full of opportunities that far exceed any expectation and imagination. Consider my life complete.

Every decision I've made, most importantly in the last 4 months, has led me to these moments that I'll remember forever. Sticking to my convictions, taking a leap of faith, diving into the unknown with nothing but a hope and a prayer has made for some of the most meaningful and life-changing experiences I have ever known.

Now down to business.

So begin my weekend long runs, having completed 10 miles this past Sunday. The tentative plan is to increase my longest run each Sunday by 30-50% (last Sunday was 10 miles so this Sunday will be between 13 and 15 miles).

My working knowledge of how to train for an ultra marathon is very limited, but I've been told time and time again that it's not the mileage but rather "the time on your feet" that matters. Concentrating on the total time spent running, as opposed to total amount of miles run, will help prepare my body for the brutal 10+ hour event I hope to complete in April.

The safest way to gain the time on my feet and limit the risk of injury is to complete back-to-back long days over the weekend. Saturdays, therefore, will be incorporated in to what will be considered a #longassweekend instead of the more jovial #sundayrunday. Saturdays will be roughly 75% of the time I anticipate completing on Sunday (i.e. 4 hours of running planned for Sunday would mean 3 hours of running to be done on Saturday).

Sure it sounds intimidating, but I'm excited. I have run 38 days in a row! I don't know that I've had that many consecutively healthy days in my entire running career... Perhaps a slight exaggeration? Sadly not. Most days I want to run twice or even three times, but I resist. I can't get enough of it!

So here's to breaking the mold, embracing the crazy, and diving in with both feet. #streak365

reflection

Only 11 months to go on this crazy running journey of mine. Every time I upload a workout and slap another 'X' on my calendar, I grow more impressed with my progress. Ah, but what would moments of triumph be without the occasional hiccup?

I found myself in a fit of frustration this week. I've been waging war within for the last 4 or 5 days for reasons unrelated to running, battling the demons that lurk within that occasionally rise to the surface and rattle my sanity.

Real talk? I'm incredibly self-conscious and, as of late, these feelings of insecurity have occupied my time and energy more than should be allowed. Realizing that self-doubt seems to peak at the same time every month, I have it designated on my calendar as my week of self-loathing in an attempt to mentally prepare myself (and to make sure I'm stocked on chips and sweets). But it still doesn't make the demons go away.

Having been out of the running game for so long, I've gotten lazy and sedentary. I've always struggled with body image even when I was in tip-top shape, so you can imagine my disdain when I catch myself in a mirror now when I haven't been logging 60 miles a week. It's sad that I put so much pressure on myself to look, act and be a particular way...but I'd be lying if I said I was completely content with that reflection staring hopelessly back at me.

Wishing I was smarter, prettier, wittier, and any other kind of 'er' has plagued me this week. Running has always been my release, a way to run off all that anger and frustration that I keep bottled up (mostly). So I'd go for a run, a fast run, all out sometimes, in an effort to tire out the demons and run away from all that troubles me. Worst part about being out of shape? The speed wasn't there and all the fast-twitch fibers in my being couldn't make it so.

I wanted so desperately to feel weightless, the wind in my face and the demons at my back, but I couldn't get my legs to go. I wanted the speed, I NEEDED it, but it never came no matter how much I willed it.

I tried to convince myself that since I'm training for an ultra marathon the speed was not only unnecessary, but ill-advised given the risk for injury. But truth is, it tears me up inside and almost confirms all those feelings of self-doubt that I was unable to run away from.

Admittedly, tomorrow is a new day and next week will surely be a better one, but I put this admission of personal struggle out into the universe as a testament to the fact that nothing is, or ever will be, perfect. I had to force myself to look at the bigger picture, at everything I've done right so far, to help me cope with things that threaten to derail me.

Many of the obstacles we face are ones we place in front of ourselves. Acknowledging this reality is the first step you can take in overcoming them. I've run 30 days consecutively and logged over 100 miles since the new year, so I consider this month a win. My demons can suck it.

resilience

This month seems to be flying by, my first 18 days are behind me and I look forward to the days ahead with giddy anticipation. Yet not everything has been sunshine and rainbows. I feel the threat of a dark cloud lingering... Not just because I live in a notoriously cloudy region, but rather the coming of events that will surely test my resolve as I pursue my goals. At a grand total of 25 miles a week and my excitement for each run growing exponentially, this is about the time when the running gods attempt to challenge my commitment by threatening to crush my hopes and dreams.

Okay,  maybe a tad over dramatic... This week I felt an all-to-familiar ache in my foot, a warning from my third metatarsal that a stress fracture is on the horizon. Sure. Why not. The great thing about warnings? They're easy to ignore.

However, being that my intentions are to complete 50 miles of hell in less than 3 months I thought it wise to listen to my pain. So I reluctantly jogged a pitiful mile each day until the aching stopped, which took about 3 days...for now. I suspect I will hear more from my foot soon, so my training will fluctuate greatly over the next few weeks. Every time the universe decides to dump toxic rain all over my running parade, I can't help but sink into a depression fueled by woes, junk food and an endless stream of  "why me" echos. So naturally my mindset began to head south at the thought of yet another injury getting in the way of my goals. 

I have to self-correct this behavior immediately before the inevitable snowball effect. So rather than start sending out invitations to my pity party, I elected to take a more proactive approach to my injury magnetism: I got myself a stability ball, a stability platform, and some rocks (for foot strengthening, not throwing). I will do everything in my power to prepare my body and mind for success, which is going to mean going above and beyond for someone as injury prone as myself.

I am inspired, both by a weekend of watching my track heroes debut at one of the first indoor meets of the season and by this...

These are blossoms... in January. Just as these small flowers fight to stay alive against the winter's chill, I fight to keep my dreams alive in the face of whatever adversity comes my way. Yes, I would love to make my goal of running all 365 days in 2014, but the reality is that this is only a small piece of what I'm trying to accomplish. I have a passion for this sport that motivates and drives me. I dream of national competitions. I dream to inspire others. I dream of realizing my full potential. I dream of greatness. This is what I aspire to, a feeling of accomplishment and self-fulfillment that transcends a resolution. Like the blossoms, I will remain resilient to the obstacles that will surely find me. 

seattle freeze

So I've officially been streaking for 11 days. Only 354 days remaining...no big deal.

It's still too early to experience any life changing epiphanies, spiritual awakenings, or self actualization...but my first few weeks on this journey has been pretty exceptional nonetheless. Spectacular views coupled with good company has made the first 11 days of 2014 pretty memorable.

Moving to a new place is difficult, but the toughest part of my transition has been leaving friends and family behind. The experience has afforded me a great deal of perspective on what it means to be independent. I suffered my first moment of weakness this week, the first time in 3 months that I was wishing I was back home, nestled safely in my comfort zone.

I bought a small bookcase for my house that is in desperate need of furniture, and the gentleman that sold it to me graciously helped me load it into my car. I got home and couldn't get the blasted POS out of my car by myself. After trying for an hour to pry the wretched thing out in the rain, I broke down. I would have driven all the way home to California if I could have, but the stupid dresser pushed my driver seat clear up to the steering wheel basically locking me out. Ready for my grand epiphany? As much as I want to believe that I can do everything on my own, it was made painfully obvious to me that I can't. The furniture/car conundrum proved the most appropriate metaphor for my life... If I have any hope of accomplishing my 365 goal this year (or moving any more furniture) I need to find myself a support system.

So this week has been all about beating the "Seattle freeze" and making the effort to reach out to others. *Bonus* I got to see some cool stuff along the way.

Greenlake in the evening

On the first Sunday of every month, the Oiselle team meets up for a long run. It was incredible to see all the birds that flocked to U Village that morning! Of course, what was supposed to be a 4 mile easy run for me quickly turned into a 6 miler that nearly killed me. Yet it was well worth it, we were graced with such a gorgeous sunrise over the mountains and I got to grab coffee with some pretty fierce runners.

University Village on an early Sunday morning

Greenlake on a rainy afternoon

Discovery Park

To keep it short and sweet, so far so good. I find that running everyday is becoming routine. I'm excited to have found a new running partner and look forward to meeting more awesome people in Seattle's running community.

AR 50 is only a few months away and the nerves are already setting in. I'm a little worried about the 30-mile long runs that await me in the future. Here's to running happy and staying healthy! #streak365