I Told You I'd Come Around

The last post I wrote was a tirade on my issues over being an Ultrarunner Widow. I complained about being neglected, that the kids needed more fatherly attention, and that I was angry about being sick and jealous of his ability to run the way he does. As I wrote that post, I knew deep down that I had to figure out how to get past the issues in order to, at the bare minimum, get on with our lives.  I told him that I needed some time to come to terms with my disease and to accept that things were going to be different than I had hoped. I know Duke was very doubtful that I would be able to in any decent amount of time. Knowing him, he probably didn't think I would at all! (He's a bit negative sometimes.) But it's amazing how wanting to give someone a present makes you think outside of your own personal world.

Two weeks before Memorial Day weekend, when I was planning the schedule for the next two months, I realized that Father's Day fell on our daughter's birthday this year. I knew that I needed to somehow separate the two in order to honor both of them equally. It just so happened that Western States training camp had a spot open on that Sunday so I asked Duke if he would like me to buy him a slot for that day and go camping for the weekend to celebrate his big day. This was a no brainer!

Friday arrived and we took the kids out of school early, in order to avoid some traffic, and headed to Auburn. Despite our best efforts we still had some of the usual nasty, traffic filled drive. We ended up at a gorgeous camp spot which made up for it. The evening was spent having hotdogs and S'mores. (Best camp food ever!) The next morning, we started our real gift to Duke. We hopped in the van and headed out to volunteer at the aid station for Saturday's run. It ended up being a lovely morning and early afternoon spent with people that were fun to be around. The kids were awesome and jumped right in helping out setting things up and helping the runners. When the bees arrived and several people got stung I happened to have my essential oil case along and therefore had lavender to put on their welts. We even got to help Gunhild Swanson!

That evening we were back at the camp with more food and time spent together as a family. Sunday morning we woke up early (again!) and took Duke to the start for the Sunday run from Foresthill Elementary to Driver's Flat. While he ran, I spent my time taking the kids to breakfast, driving back to camp, talking about the various brilliant sections of JK Rowling's writing in Harry Potter and taking a nap. The kids decided that they didn't want their dad to have to pack up camp, so the three of us packed up everything and headed back into town to pick Duke up and drove into Auburn for the Trails In Motion film festival. Although we had family time and even got to go swimming at the hotel that afternoon, as you can see, the weekend revolved around running.

Less than two weeks later, I was on a plane to San Diego, having left our kids in the care of VERY good friends (Tina and Ramiro we love you!), in order to crew Duke in the SD100 during an unseasonable heat wave. Duke flew into Orange County the day before and his brother, Sonny, picked him up and drove them to the hotel near the start. Sonny got him to the starting line the next morning and while he was waiting for me to arrive, he went for a run himself. He informed me that he was glad he wasn't running in the heat! By that afternoon, the heat index was 108 degrees!

Because of the way the aid stations were placed on the route, I was't able to see Duke until 7:30 that night. He came jogging in but looked like partial death. (I found out later that he jogged into the aid station just so that I would feel better about how he was doing.) He spent a half an hour there trying to drink some broth and eat something. Being the ever positive one, I figured he would get a second wind and be great within 15-20 minutes.

Sonny and I packed up the car and drove to the next crewing area. Duke was to arrive there around 9:30. By 10:45 Duke had not arrived and I was getting antsy. So I put on my headlamp and began walking up the trail to meet him. At least a 1/4 of a mile later I found him stumbling along with his headlamp in his hand. I walked him to the car where in collapsed into a chair. He said he hadn't been able to drink for the past hour at least. The kicker at this point was that where we were meeting him wasn't the official aid station. It was just a place that the runners could meet their crew briefly. He still had 1.3 miles to go and needed to get there by midnight or he would be kicked off the course. We fixed him more broth and I "paced" him the next 1.3 miles, the plan being that I would get him there and walk/run back to the car by myself. At 11:15 or so we began the final leg of his death march. I held his mug of broth and stopped him every few yards and would say "drink". He nibbled at some crackers and stumbled along the horrifically dusty road. It took us 40 minutes to reach the aid station. He had 2 minutes to eat, get his night gear, refill his water, and go. That wasn't going to happen. Duke sat down, shook his head and said he wasn't going to make it. I looked into his eyes and felt the depth of his disappointment. I bent over and held him in support. I think he would of cried but he was too damned tired! Within five minutes of sitting down he was asleep in the chair.

At this point we waited for a car to come get us and drive us back to the main road where Sonny was waiting. 30 minutes later, we left the aid station. When we got back to the car I tried to get us a room at the casino. They were sold out. We had two sleeping bags between the three of us and luckily three sleeping pads. I said to Sonny that I would share my bag with Duke. We kept all of our clothes on, I bundled myself in my small parka and spread the sleeping bag over us a crashed at one of the big aid stations. Sleep was slow to come with the aid station techno pop blaring in the background (to keep the aid station workers awake). I started to worry about our kids back home and our pets, and about things the could be going wrong. But then I saw the star filled sky and I felt Duke's body closely snuggled to mine and I thought to myself that there wasn't anything I could do if something was wrong so I might as well enjoy this space in time that is so rare in our busy world and I fell sound asleep. I haven't slept that close, cuddled up to my husband all night long in years. We only got 4 1/2 hours of sleep but it was better than nothing.

After picking up his drop back and seeing a few people come through one of the aid stations, we headed back to the start line to have breakfast at the cafe. After refueling, we had the honor of visiting with Errol "Rocket" Jones. He was so supportive of Duke and had wonderful words of wisdom to share. It was truly helpful for Duke to hear what he had to say and it helped him to overcome his feeling of defeat from the night before. It was uplifting to end his race experience with that conversation. Sonny and I commented on how fun the weekend had been. It was so nice to have a picnic the night before and that everything was so beautiful. As Duke and I drove the beautiful road along Lake Cuyamaca and talked over the events of the past 24 hours, Duke told me how appreciative he was of my help. I replied, "See? I told you I'd come around".

UltraMarriage

"I may be an idiot, but you chose to marry me." Duke Hong

Two weekends ago I got really pissed at Duke. Yes, I admit it, I finally hit the wall with his demon-like desire to be running. I dropped all forms of support for his all consuming hobby. I told him that I felt that his need to run was greater than his need for me. I made it clear that our kids needed him and that they weren't going to tell him that. Once again, I reminded him that I need him to speak my language more often, that he needs to tell me he needs me, loves me, and wants to spend time with me. And finally, I admitted that I was jealous of his ability to see the places he sees because he can get there faster than I can. Now before any readers get their undies all tied in knots about me being a needy woman and unsupportive wife,  they should first of all read my previous posts and second, they need know some background on Duke and myself. Let's start with my first claim.


"I told him that I felt that his need to run was greater than his need for me." Duke is a very intense person and he is very bright. By the time he was a sophomore in high school he had finished all the math courses his high school had to offer. He then went to the local community college (lucky for him they had one where he lived) and continued on with the college curriculum while finishing his other courses at the high school. He spent his Saturdays in the library learning about the computers there and when he had learned everything he could he then helped other people. If he wasn't in the library doing an "ultra-computer-a-thon" he was riding his bicycle with the adults all day. He rode his first 100 mile ride sometime during high school and I'm pretty sure his parents had no idea where he was for the day. When he got to college he realized that he was going to need some financial help so he thought about what sort of job would be the most valuable and of course the "most fun". Enter the United States Marine Corps. When the recruiter asked him if he'd like to jump out of airplanes behind enemy lines he said, "Sign me up!!". Again, the more intense, the better. During this time he taught himself to surf. The bigger the waves, the better in his opinion. If he had had the chance, Mavericks would have suited him just fine. After all, he had already surfed pipeline on a 25 foot day. After marrying me and having kids, we moved to MT on a whim (because we never do things the easy way). This of course meant no more surfing. It was a rough three years for Duke in the area of intense physical activity. Then came Switzerland and the bigger Idiot syndrome that he talks about hit him. Ultrarunning replaced Ultrasurfing. By this time I would have thought that the intensity of marriage, raising kids, and a high tech senior director position would be enough excitement. Apparently not.  Something drives Duke to do the things he does. It's an inner demon that only he can hear. Whatever that demon says to him, it over powers everything inside him. Hence my above comment that I felt that his need to run is greater than his need for me.

My next comment about the kids needing him is a no brainer. Kids need their parents and they aren't going to say that they do. They have no idea what they need. They are barely making it through each day trying to learn everything academically and socially at school. Their hormones hit and then it's almost like they have to start all over again. I've heard it said that having a teenager is like having a toddler in adult size. I have to say it's fairly accurate except that they start having these amazing conversations with you. If you've established the relationship well enough, they share their thoughts about so many things and it's fascinating to hear their young (albeit messy) point of view. I don't want Duke to miss out on that and I want our kids to hear his brilliant viewpoint and thought process so that they can learn from him. These sorts of conversations can't be forced. A rabbi once said to me that "quality time comes out of quantity". You can't plan to have an in depth conversation about the re-unification of North and South Korea at 3:15 on Saturday afternoon. And hearing about the latest crush at school isn't something that you ask about. It has to come about organically in conversation or even out of total silence. These things are often blurted out after time spent sitting quietly together in the car. Our kids are like us. They are also intense, bright, and artistic. They need to see, hear, and receive out guidance from us on how we navigate these amazing waters of life. We are also under the obligation to balance our lives as an example to them. Kids see things in black and white, the all or nothing mentality is the norm for them. By example we must show them the shades of gray and the brilliant spectrum of color that is life!

"I reminded him that I need him to speak my language more often, that he needs to tell me he needs me, loves me, and wants to spend time with me." I know deep within my being that Duke loves me. But sometimes it's hard to access that deep place when everyday life is swirling around me and throwing me off balance. People who are close to me know that I do a great deal of meditation and prayer. In fact, it's kind of become my "hobby". I spend my free time reading about spirituality and I participate in ceremony and prayer for that connection to the Divine. I am grateful for the grounding it gives me. But I truly believe that Duke was put in my life as another "anchor". When I don't have his presence to "anchor" me, I feel adrift in the sea of life. That sounds really cheesy but it is the utter truth. I need his calming voice, his quiet presence, his goofy jokes, his brilliant perceptions, and most of all his words of love and devotion. But this is difficult for him. Duke was raised in a typical Asian family where they didn't speak about these things. It was just assumed that your parents love you and that they love each other. There was no need or reason to say it. In fact, if you did feel the need to say "I love you", that meant there was something wrong with your relationship. Talk about having to change your entire modus operandi! This has been a major challenge for both of us. I try to remember to reach down deep and remember that he loves me unequivocally and I am forever asking him to step outside of his comfort zone to help me to be IN the comfort zone.

"I admitted that I was jealous of his ability to see the places he sees because he can get there faster than I can." Obviously is the crux of my irritation with Duke's long hours on the trail and it is the one that is most difficult for me to write about. It means that I will be putting down in writing something I have been struggling with my entire life. Some readers probably are asking themselves why I don't just join Duke and some people have made comments about this on previous posts. Let me say without any doubt I would LOVE to run with Duke. Nothing would make me happier than to join him. After all, I am just as intense as he is in my own way. I can get involved directing a show and 5 hours later someone has to remind me to take a break. And just like a runner, I feel like if I sit down I won't be able to keep going. Just throw a sandwich in my hand and let's keep rolling! The problem is, I physically can't and most likely will never be able to keep up with him. I was recently diagnosed with an autoimmune disease that explains so much of what has held me back most of my life. It has affected my career, my ability to do fun activities with my kids, and of course do things with Duke. And before anyone jumps on the bandwagon of asking questions as to whether I've tried this or that solution, let me say that I have done several things to get myself healthy. I am proud to say that my blood tests came back three weeks ago as being "disease free". I am feeling the best I've ever felt in my life. I don't get sick like I used to and I'm much happier all around. But this doesn't mean that I'm cured. It just means that I'm "in remission" and that if I go off my diet, don't sleep enough, have too much stress, exercise too much, that I will have a relapse and feel really crappy again. It's no fun and when I look at the fun that Duke is having, I get jealous. It's something I am working on.

"I may be an idiot, but you chose to marry me."
So you put together two intense people, an artist, a brilliant mind, a disease, two vastly different cultural backgrounds, and two kids, and you get "The Duke and Martha Show". And yes, I chose to marry Duke. And he chose to marry me. No one ever said that marriage was easy. In fact, it's an awful lot like an Ultra. The terrain always changes, the weather always must be considered, nourishment is imperative, and a regard for physical health is necessary. Sometimes in a marriage you are the runner and your spouse is the pacer and on other days it's vice versa. But all of it takes mental stamina. I am told that after all of the pain and torture that occurs during a race, finishing is the most amazing and gratifying feeling. Every time Duke and I work through one of life's major storms I feel like we have crossed another "finish line". All of the discomfort, agony and sometimes misery that working on a relationship entails is worth the feeling of accomplishment at the end of the day. You can't cross the finish line if you don't start the race and I would choose to marry Duke all over again, even the ultrawidow part, just to cross another finish line with him.


P.S. In regards to wishing I could run with him, who knows, maybe something in my body will shift and I'll be able to join him in his adventures in the future. But then, if I'm running with him, I wouldn't have anything to write as an ultrarunner widow, would I?

Idiots. (His word, not mine)

Apparently there are a handful of people that are bored enough that they need me to write something so that they have something to read. Of course, they could read just about anything but they seem to want it in the general topic of ultrarunning. So despite my lack of creative juices flowing, here is my dull and humdrum report of my husbands latest running escape. Only this time, he has drug yet another poor soul into the fray.

Several months ago, Duke met a guy in the trails and as is typical of the running community, they started to chat. They both learned that they are Marines (prior service, but once a Marine, always a Marine), married, two children, etc....oh, and that they are both crazy enough to want to run trails for long distances. Of course, this guy didn't know that he wanted to run trails for long distances until Duke informed him that it is fun! Not only did he not know what this "fun" would entail, but I really feel sorry for his wife!

Over the next few months, the two guys got the families together and lucky for the wives, we get along famously as do our kids! We have spent many enjoyable afternoons and evenings eating and drinking, playing badminton with the kids, kids playing video games, adults talking, hikes on the beach while the wives sit and visit, etc. It's been a true blessing for us as a couple and as a family as we find it difficult to find other couples that we both want to spend time with!

As time has progressed, Duke has managed to convince his friend that running more than a street marathon is a good idea. In fact, running 50K is a great idea. Which then led to said friend needing to prove that he could also run a 50 miler. Which brings me to this last weekend. I knew what things were going to be like for this race. Last year when Duke ran it, it was unseasonably hot and he called and said he was DNF'ing. True to form, I said, "Can't you just rest for a bit, cool off and then keep going?". No, he insisted that he was done. I had said that we would come meet him at the finish line so I packed the kids in the car and headed up to Marin. We arrived at the finish line and no Duke. After a bit of checking, come to find out, he did as I said and kept going. He was much later than anticipated, but met the cutoff! After that experience, I started to realize that my instincts for these things were pretty good.

This year, he decides that it would be fun to take a novice on the tour of the headlands. And this year, the weather was predicted to be the exact opposite of last year. Rainy, dark, windy, and cold! A few weeks prior (not knowing the forecast) I asked the novice's wife if she would like to take the kids up and meet the guys at the finish. She said that was fine as long as I was driving. Ha! She doesn't know me very well yet, but I agreed. At the beginning of the week, she needed to know what our plans were for feeding the guys at the end, what time we were leaving, and all other pertinent information. I felt really bad because I hadn't really thought about it. I knew that no matter how much we planned, something was bound to change. And it did. My daughter was sick all week, for one, and they changed the race start and end location, for two, and I just had a gut feeling that things were going to be not like we planned.

By Saturday morning, I made the executive decision to keep all of us home. I wasn't going to haul four kids up to Rodeo Beach, to stand in the rain and wind while waiting for their idiotic fathers to finish a race that they really didn't need to start in the first place! Instead, I took my kids to their house and my friend and I decided to start our own ultra drinking marathon. (We failed miserably as we are both light weights!)

Duke finished the race but his friend dropped at 40 due to the beginnings of hypothermia. I was very proud of him for making that call. Hypothermia is not to be messed with! On the way home, Duke got sick twice on the side of the road. Great. Just great. I drove him home and kept pushing is head back in the car as he would fall asleep and start falling forward. Why does he feel the need to this to himself and the worst part is, he drug someone else into this nasty habit?! I spent a part of my time at our friends's house explaining to his wife the "ultra runner mindset". But how do you explain someone that their husband has a screw loose without offending them! Thank goodness, she probably already knew that about her husband and still loves him despite his lack of cognitive skills in deciding what is a smart distance to run and what is an idiotic distance! I still love my husband too. Right Duke?

P.S. The use of the word idiot in regards to my husband is actually his choice of vocabulary. He called himself an idiot in his own race report. SMH.

Things I learned (re-learned) from UltraRunners

As you may know from my previous posts, I am a singer, voice teacher, and pianist. It never ceases to amaze me how closely intertwined the mindset is for athletes and musicians. Even a major best selling book has been written about it. "The Inner Game of Tennis" by Timothy Gallwey, which he later adapted to "The Inner Game of Music" with the help of Barry Green details the mental game that takes place to be a suceessful athlete or musician. I've found it to be particularly akin to singers as we use our bodies like an athlete.  I've mentioned some of the similarities in my post "It Takes One to Know One". But just recently, I have been reminded to re-learn a few things from the ultrarunners in my life. Here are a few of my thoughts:

You better like training
This one is is the foundation. You have to want to train. You have to want to spends hours on the trail. Oftentimes they are by yourself for hours. And then there are the group runs. If you don't like the group, then it's great that you can run alone and vice versa. Either way you have to love being out there. As a musician, you have to want to be in the practice room. I started my music education as pianist. Practicing the piano is a very lonely endeavor and as  a fairly social person I found myself very unhappy with the practice room by the time I hit college. In defiance, instead of majoring in piano, I chose to major in voice.  (Big rebellion there, I know.) Although I had to practice on my own for several hours a week, I discovered the joy of rehearsing with others, whether it was in the choir, a show, or with my pianist. All of sudden, all that solitary practice led to rehearsal with other people which meant such joy for me! I found my desire to train again!

I had a former student that told me when her mother said it was time to go to rehearsal she always would shout "Whoohoo!!!! Rehearsal!!!!" If you can't shout "Whoohoo! Rehearsal!" or "WhooHoo! Training!" the majority of the time, then it might be a good idea to find a different activity.

Enjoy the journey
100 miles is really long! So are performance schedules where you perform 7 days a week with a total of 8 performances. (That's the Broadway schedule.) Or, 5-6 performances per week with rehearsals during the day for the next show. (That's more of the opera schedule.) That would be like running four hours everyday and 8 on Saturdays.You better enjoy as much of the journey as you can because you're going to be there a while. Which brings me to:

Is your pace sustainable?
You've done the training, you've arrived at the race. You then have to ask yourself the following questions. Did you over train or are you ready? Do you need to start out slowly or is a faster pace going to be better? Or in the case of a singer, did you practice enough or too much? Can you sustain the length of the show? Is your throat too tired or are you in good shape? Have you taken on too many performances with rehearsals on top of them? Do you have time for family and friends? for yourself? Can you make it to the end of the race? Where is the "end" of the race for you....? Can you sustain the pace?

Recovery is 30% of training
Recovery, rest, sleep, eating correctly, saying "no" to going out when you really need to stay in. These are all extremely important to both the athlete and musician. And I would go one further with singers: no talking when you are not singing. Those muscles need rest. And my favorite: It's OK to take a nap!

You are only as good as your crew and support team
A missed water bottle, no fuel, clothing isn't available, a pacer who doesn't know you and your mental bandwidth, you spouse/partner is less than supportive... the list can go on. These things are crucial to a successful race. In a singing career, you may do 100 auditions in a year and only get one callback. You better have your support system in place to sustain you through the long haul. Those loving and encouraging words at the end of the day (or at the aid station) are what's going to keep you motivated to stay in the race or even to continue to train!

It's ok to be mid-pack as long as you know that you have done your absolute best.
I think this is the single most important item on this list. It has taken me almost my whole life to be "OK" with being a "mid-pack" singer. That always sounds so bad to me. But let's think about the picture of the ultrarunning community and the professional singer community. How many people actually run ultras in comparison to the world population? It's a very small percentage. And how many people actually sing the big vocal repertoire and perform it fairly regularly? Again, not very many in comparison to the world population. As ultrarunners and singers, we get to do something that most people never get to think about, let alone attempt! The fact that as runners you get to see and experience places that most people only dream about is truly exceptional. And as singers, we experience the emotions and exquisite beauty that is only found in what we do. It doesn't matter if the level of running or singing is only midway from the head of the pack, that is still way beyond what most people only dream about. In the end, you have to run your own race and everyone else's times and opinions be damned!


So in the spirit of the ultra psyche, here is a bit of my "ultra running"...I mean singing....

My Husband Ran the Race But I am the One Still Recovering

Lat weekend, Duke ran the Rio del Lago 100 mile, or almost ran the Rio del Lago 100 mile. Let's just say he got 75 miles down the trail and had to call it a day (or night in this case). Let me rewind a little bit...

Friday Morning:
Duke leaves for the starting line. He gets a great night's sleep and is up and ready at 3:00 Saturday morning. The only issues were they had changed the course and rearranged aid stations last minute and therefore he had to scramble to reorganize his drop bags.

Saturday Morning:
I leave the house with the kids, an ice chest, chairs to sit on, a couple of blankets an extra backpack of things for Duke, and snacks for the kids. (Turns out later, this wasn't enough.) We pick up our friend, Ramiro, and head down the road. I was smart enough to leave earlier than I had originally planned knowing full well that I get panicky when I think I am going to miss Duke at an aid station. We arrived at the first station with 30-40 minute to spare. Duke was ahead of schedule! Glad I left early!

Saturday Afternoon:
We arrive at the next aid station only to find out that no crew it allowed there. Apparently one of the changes in the schedule that we didn't know about. We parked a little ways around the corner and waited for Duke. Of course he went through the aid station without seeing us until he came around the corner. I had texted him but he wasn't reading his texts. So he had already eaten at the station and he didn't want what I had ready for him except the fruit. It was when he argued with me about taking his hat and sunglasses that I began to get that "feeling" in the pit of my stomach. But as usual, I ignored it. I had kids bickering with each other and arguing with me, so I just pushed it aside and headed to the next aid station.

Saturday Early Evening:
We decided to get as early dinner before parking at the aid station that was just adjacent to the restaurant. I had kids to feed and it seemed like we had plenty of time. Again, the feeling in the pit of my stomach. By the time we ate and drove next door, the next parking space was at least a half a mile down the road. Duke was early, again, we had all of our stuff to haul up to meet him, and no hot food waiting for him. Never mind, he was fine. Ramiro began pacing him and we got ready for him to come around the loop for his next break.

Saturday Late Evening:
By this time, Duke's second pacer, Anil, had arrived to take over. Anil is a seasoned ultrarunner so I knew Duke would be in good hands. Anil insisted that we go get the pizza and hot coffee for Duke. I went along with it although my gut told me that he wouldn't want it. (It turns out I was right about this.) While we waited with the pizza, Ramiro came running up with out Duke. He had run ahead because they realized that the things that Duke needed were in the backpack in the car! When Duke came around the second time he ate a little, drank something warm, and put on a light jacket. We were emptying out backpacks trying to find his Tailwind (electrolyte drink) and a few other things when I knew something wasn't right about his drop bags and equipment. The problem was,  I couldn't put my finger on what was missing and/or where it was. That feeling again...

Sunday Morning 1:30, 75 miles:
I get a text from Anil. Duke was done. I knew I had to call and hear his voice. In the past I have talked to him and known that he was just tired but could keep going.  He was cold, tired, and he was walking a 1-2 mile and hour pace. When I heard his voice this time, I knew it was time to quit. My heart sank a little as I knew how disappointed he was going to feel in a few hours. But I also could tell that he was toast. Ramiro went to pick him up and bring him to the hotel. I laid awake for the hour that it took. I knew that Duke was ok, but I could feel his disappointment as keenly as if it were my own.
When he walked through the door, he was dragging one leg. It threw me back in time to when my mother had had massive hip surgery. A procedure that had bone grafting and screws and she couldn't bear weight on it for 6 months. I remember her first day home. She had gotten herself out of bed with her walker and was leaning of the walker, then standing on the good leg as she dragged the other leg forward by pulling on her sweat pants. Duke didn't have to literally drag his leg, but the next morning he had to lift it with his hands to bring it up and tie his shoe.

It is safe to say, he was smart to end his race early.

When we woke up in the morning, I asked him how he was doing. He replied, "Emotionally or physically?". That's a good question, both. We are now one week later and he is out on a 10 mile fun run with Ramiro. I think he's fine.

So a few things I took away from this experience:

1) I love to support my husband. I hate crewing. But I love him enough to want to love crewing!

2) Don't crew with kids along. (Unless they are old enough and invested enough to really help.)

3) Load the car like it's a camping trip, that way you will everything you could possibly need. This includes all equipment as well as food.

4) Don't try to take care of anyone else besides your runner. There isn't time and it will just stress you out.

5) Follow your gut instincts. They are almost always correct and if they aren't, then most likely you are just over prepared and there is NOTHING wrong with that!


People have been asking Duke if he is looking forward to the next one. He was ready to do another one the next day, just to prove to himself that he can finish 100 miles. I have no doubt that he will finish 100 miles. I just don't need for him to try and prove it anytime soon. I am still recovering from crewing!

Oh, there is one thing that made the whole weekend worth while. I got to be a groupy in the best way possible. When we went to the finish line to get Duke's drop bags, I ran into Rocket (Errol Jones). (I met Rocket when I gave him a ride after a DNF at the Quicksilver 100k.) Rocket was standing there talking to a couple of people. I went up to him to give him a hug and I realized that he was standing next to one of the biggest legends in the ultra community, Ann Trason. Rocket was kind enough to introduce me to her. As always with this community, she was gracious and kind. So if that is who I get to talk to at these races then, ok Duke, you may run another one. ;)

Sorry.....I'm Not Sorry

Friday night at 8:00, Duke and I hauled the kids up to a cheap hotel (not really, it was actually expensive but it sure looked cheap. Thank you Bay Area prices) in Pacifica so that he could start a 100k training run. The plan was to start there and basically run home. Of course, being the good ultra runner widow that I am, I said I would provide support in the form of a mobile aid station. He would start at 6:00, I would drive to his 15 mile mark later in the morning and then jump ahead of him every 5-10 miles. Of course, an all day event like this takes some planning.

All week long, Duke would hand me new print outs of maps or send me spreadsheets of times and places to meet him. I realized that he had no list of things that he would need so I decided that as "crew captain" I had better get one started. I put together a list of food, first aid, and clothing that he would need and shared it with him on Google Docs so that he could add to it. I went to the grocery store 2 days before to obtain the necessary items, boiled eggs the day before, and sat with him the night before going over the maps.

Things went quite smoothly Friday night (except for my cranky attitude. Apparently I get stressed worrying about the details.) We got to bed at the hotel around 10:00 which is just perfect considering the fact that one doesn't usually sleep very well in a foreign bed. And that theory proved itself to be true when I spent the night waking up from dreams where I had already gotten up and helped Duke get ready. I think I helped him get ready twice in my sleep without ever waking up! No one can say that I don't care about his success in these endeavors. Apparently I do it in my sleep!

Eventually, Duke got up for real and got himself ready to go. Notice I said he got himself ready. I didn't need to do anything but get out the food for him. So much for worrying in my sleep! He left at exactly the time we had set. I got the kids up an hour and a half later, took them to breakfast, and headed out of town AFTER stewing over the map to figure out where I was supposed to meet Duke. Apparently we hadn't gone over the first meeting point as thoroughly as we had the other spots.

I finally called him and luckily his phone was on and he had cell coverage. Apparently he got lost for about 15 minutes and then later got stopped by the water company and was given a warning citation for trespassing. (That's his story to tell!) We finally connected at the designated point and he was only 15 minutes behind schedule.  He looked just fine and acted just fine but my wifely instincts (in hindsight) didn't feel fine.

Our next stop was an hour later so the kids and I ran into Half Moon Bay to get fuel for the car and fuel for Mom, i.e. Starbucks. With coffee in hand we drove back up to Skyline and sat in the parking lot of the Mountain House restaurant for the next 30 minutes. By this time what was supposed to be an hour between the last aid station (15 mile mark) this one (21 mile mark) had turned into almost an hour and a half.

When Duke arrived the first thing he did was lie down on the ground...at 21 miles. Ok, well, it was a long hill up to this spot so I guess that's warranted. He's a tough guy, former Marine, he knows what he's doing. Load him up, fill him up with food and ship him out! We'll meet him in 10 miles, 2-3 hours, at Alice's Restaurant. An hour later I get a text:

"So I think this is not my day".

Me: "oh no, why?"

Duke: "No energy, been walking the last 3 miles"

Me: "So what do you want to do?"

Duke "Just come get me. I'm on the highway now."

Me: "Are you sure?"
        "Headed out now"

Duke: "Yes, I think I need to recover more before Rio Del Lago"


At this point a couple of things were going through my head. Any good crew captain would assess the situation and see if there was anyway the the runner could keep going. Obviously he wasn't hurt and he could still walk therefore in most race situations he just needed to keep going. A short rest, some more food and then send him on his way. But I must admit that at the bottom of my thoughts, the first thing to go through my head was, "yay! now we get to spend the day together!" So not only does Duke feel like a loser for quitting but I feel guilty for being happy that he quit. Great combination!

The kids and I found him on the side of the road and we drove back to Alice's Restaurant and had lunch. All through lunch I kept asking him if he wanted to start running again. (All the while hoping that he didn't.) He said he was done. He felt it was better to rest this weekend as he has another 50k next weekend and the Rio Del Lago 100 miler in November. (Yay!!) He felt that it was a smart judgement call. I have to admit that he actually was being mature about this run. I mean, he even packed toilet paper!!!

By the time we got home, Duke was still tired. My wifely instincts had been correct. This was just not his day. Something wasn't right about the run even though it was planned quite well. I think that if my energy had been more in line with his finishing the run, he might have been able to do it. Maybe. It's hard to know. All I know is that I got to spend the rest of my day with him and that was heaven! So honey, sorry...I'm not sorry that you didn't finish! I think we were both winners yesterday!

To Poop or Not To Poop

Disclaimer: this post is not a particularly "PG" post. Not all of my readers will enjoy it...(Mom). 

Believe it or not, the subject of bowel movements comes up often in an ultra runners household. You would think that it is a moot point as normally if we need to use the facilities we do so without discussing it. But what do you do when there AREN'T any facilities? This is the crux of the conversations that I am "privy" to in my house. And yes, puns are intended throughout this post. How else am I going to add levity to this poopy subject?

For those of you that are not part of an ultra runners "running" dialogue after their weekly outings, let me take you through a typical conversation when my husband gets home.

Me: How was your run?

Duke: Good!...Great!

Me: Good!.......So.......(knowing full well that the poop, I mean scoop, would come out sooner or later and we might as well hear about while it's fresh.)

Duke: Well, I ended up turning around at the cutoff instead of taking it as planned due to the fact that there was no trail there.....(this goes on for a while)

Me: mm-hmmm....mm-hmmmm (etc.)

*silence*

Duke: Actually, I needed to poop and couldn't decide if I should go while I was out there and if so, where should I go.

(here it comes)

Duke: I thought there would be an outhouse at "X" point but there wasn't. I could have gone at "Y" but that place is gross. (This is a prior service Marine with with war experience we are listening to. If he thinks it's gross, it most likely is.) At that point I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I really needed to go!

(I am now rolling my eyes wondering when this crappy subject was going to end.)

Duke: Then I saw these really big leaves! So I gathered a bunch up and ran to a spot that was private enough. It worked great!

Me: Okaaaaaayyyyy...glad it all came out ok. Maybe you should carry some T.P. with you just in case.

Duke: Yeah, I've been thinking about that.


OK. Why is he just thinking about it?! Just do it for shit's sake! Just take the damn T.P. and be prepared! You can then just go whenever the need strikes. No worries over what clean up tools you will use! AND I won't have to hear about your worries over where, when, and how you were going to take a dump. Apparently this isn't just an issue with my husband. I got to hear about this from his runner friend over the weekend who's wife backed up the fact that she hears about it too.

My question is, why do we have to talk about it? I mean, I know that we all poop. It's like Number 2 on our list of important things to do everyday, next to Number 1. But do we really need to talk about it? Apparently, we do. So my next question is, why?! When I asked Duke about this his answer was, of course, quite simple.

Because it's fun!

Fun for you, my dear, but it's really shitty for me to listen to!