Last weekend I ran the Ghost Town 38.5 trail race in Hillsboro, New Mexico. Everything about the weekend was fun. I left Boise on Friday to meet my friend Joan (from Indiana) in Albuquerque. Our friend, Vernz (from Ontario, Canada), was already in Kingston, gearing up for his first ultramarathon. We were also meeting up with a new friend, Laura (from Maryland), who was going to Ghost Town alone. We offered to take her with us down to Hillsboro.

For all of us, it was our first time to visit New Mexico. And, though we had received numerous detailed emails from Susan Reynolds, the race director, we still didn’t know exactly what to expect. As it turned out, the event exceeded expectations.

Joan and I were staying at the Black Range Lodge in Kingston, Home of the Spit and Whittle Club.

Saturday we explored the trails a bit and got a taste of what the next day’s event would be like, and that night we went to the potluck pasta dinner at Susan’s house. 2010 marked the 5th running of the Ghost Town 38.5 … and the 2500th anniversary of the Battle of Marathon in Greece. In honor of the original long distance run, we were treated to Greek dancers before the pasta dinner.

Race morning the temperature was 32 degrees at the start. The first 6.3 miles climbed gradually uphill on the highway before we turned off at Junction Station and hit the trails.  At that point it was rolling hills (mostly up) until about 10.5 miles where we had our first significant downhill. From there on, it was steep ups and downs, rocks and ruts, snow and mud … and breathtaking vistas.

Having only run on trails for about a year and half now, I am still working on my confidence in flying on the downhills. I keep telling myself that I get better on every run. Most people dread the uphill sections – at this point, I do believe the downhills are still a little more challenging for me than the uphills.

The race time limit was 12 hours, and until you see the course, there is no way to predict what your time will be. Based on my previous trail races – none of which were this particular distance – I estimated that I could finish in under 10 hours (not that it really mattered). My real goals were to get in 8-10 hours on my feet, to take photos of the scenery, and to have a good time.

My basic trail running philosophy is to have a good time rather than to run a good time.

At the end of the day, I had accomplished all my goals: I ran a 9:01, I took lots of pictures, and I had a GREAT time.

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(It’s been a long time since I visited my own blog – I took a 6-month hiatus – my last entry was in July of last year before I actually attempted my first 100-mile event. As an update: I didn’t go the full 100, but I made 88 miles of it. Although many would think I would be disappointed with that, I was actually exhilarated that I was able to make 88 miles in the mountains. My next attempt at a 100-miler is on Feb 6 – more on that later. )

My plan today was to run/hike for 8 hours. Well – I only had 6.5 hours in me. Ran the downhills and hiked the uphills. I ran some ups when I could, but it was a good opportunity for me to practice my hiking skills.

Here’s my elevation map for today – talk about blazing some trails. I had no idea how far I was going or what the terrain was going to be. I looked at the Ridge to Rivers map for Shaffer Butte, and I picked a couple of trails. Youch! I went up about 850 feet in my first mile. But it was about 630 am, and it was still a nice and cool 70 degrees. That was fun. Next 3 miles, I added about 300 more feet each mile. What a way to start the day!

See that “V” around mile 4? That trail was named “The Tempest” so I had to check it out. But when it kept going down, down, down…I decided that I would save it for another day. So I only went down about 1/2 mile, then straight back up for a 350 foot climb in 1/2 mile. Geez – think if I had kept going down. Yikes.

After I came down off that side of the mountain, I went over to the Nordic ski lodge where I planned to run some of the cross-country ski trails. Here’s a tip: It was a lot longer than it looked like on the map. Ended up being ~13 miles with the first half of that going down. Aren’t you supposed to finish on the downhill, not the uphill? Who knew?

Then I got turned around the last hour, and I ran out of water. That was a bummer. And it had climbed to almost 90 degrees by that time… and I had more sun by that time – but it was 10 degrees cooler on the mountain than in the city, so that was a plus. I was pretty tired by the time I finally found the lodge (and my car), but I had a frozen bandana (yes a bandana not a banana) in a baggie in my cooler – It had thawed out, but it was still cold and wet – felt so good on my face and neck – ah, what a relief.  I rehydrated when I got to the car and drove home with my cold bandana around my neck.

When I realized I was a little off course at the end…and that I would probably not be going 8 hours today, I thought about something I read a couple of nights ago in Born to Run by Christopher McDougall. At the time, I couldn’t remember exactly, but he says that running is like “the game of life – You never know how hard it will be. You never know when it will end. You can’t control it. You can only adjust.”

I made a few adjustments today, and everything turned out just fine. What a terrific day.

The t-shirt asks…”How much fun can you have in 24 hours?”

The answer: As much as you decide you want to have. And I had a TON of fun in my first 24-hour event.

A couple of weeks ago, I took a road trip from Boise to Laramie, Wyoming, to participate in this 24-Hour “race.” I use the word race loosely because for most ultrarunners, the event is not like the traditional race that most runners are accustomed to. It’s an event, a run, a run/walk even…but not really a race…except for a handful of the faster runners.

People often ask me, “You RUN for 24 hours?” or “You RUN for 65 miles?” Technically, the answer is “no – you have to take walk breaks.” And, the fact is, all ultrarunners walk part of the course. So, probably, a better title is “endurance event.” It’s all about endurance – of both body and mind.

At the Laramie 24-Hour endurance event, there were actually several “events”: a 12-hour, a 24-hour, and a 100-miler. I chose to participate in the 24-hour in preparation for my 100-mile event (the Bear 100) in September…to practice and experiment with clothes, shoes, socks, headlamps, flashlights, food, drink, sleep deprivation…and such things.

My two main goals were 1)to go through the whole night and 2)to go more miles than I had ever gone before. I had previously gone 62 miles, so I felt 65 was a reasonable goal. Speed was not a goal.  It is amazing what happens when you “dial in” a distance in your head – can you figure how many miles I went in Laramie? Yep, 65 miles.

The whole experience was terrific. Just the education of what worked and what didn’t was worth the 10-hour drive (each way).

Reid Delman, the race director, was great as were the volunteers. They took care of all the runners’ needs day and night. The course was well-marked, the food was super, and the cheerfulness of the volunteers helped to inspire the runners to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Reid puts on a number of events – his company is Gemini Adventures. Not only would I recommend his events to other runners, but also I plan to do another one sometime.

About a week ago I had the good fortune to run the oldest trail race in America – the Dipsea Race. Compared to what I’ve been running recently, the Dipsea was a very short run: 7.4 miles. Short, but certainly not easy.

Having run part of the Dipsea course last November in the Stinson Beach 50K, I knew that the Dipsea could be no worse. And, I thought it would be fun to run the oldest trail race in America and experience its tradition and history.

Getting in the Dipsea is not easy for someone who does not live in the San Francisco/Mill Valley/Stinson Beach area. Admittedly, the race director makes it clear that they favor locals as the entries, other than the invitational runners, are on a first-come, first-served basis. However, they do accept “bribes” in the form of a donation, over and above the amount of the entry fee, to a scholarship fund. Making a donation enters you into a silent auction from which the top 100 “donors” receive an entry into the Dipsea. Another way to get in is to tell a “sob story,” or a really good reason, why you should be granted entry.

The difficulty of getting into Dipsea makes it even more desirable to enter.

So, I decided that in between my 100K and my 24-hour race, I would apply to run the Dipsea. I have to admit that I did donate to the scholarship fund, and I did inform them that the “reason” I should be granted an entry was a no-brainer: my last name is Stinson and the race ends in Stinson Beach. There you have it. They let me in.

The race is a wacky event. 1500 runners are allowed in, and all ages are included. This year the youngest Dipsea runner was 6 years old, the oldest in his 80s. The unique thing about this race is the handicapped start, and I don’t mean the wheelchair, as is common in road races. Runners get a head start based on their age. For example, a 6-year-old boy and a 75-year-old woman may have a 30-min head start over an 18-year-old girl and a 25-year-old man.

And, to make it even more fun, the person with the fastest time does not necessarily win the race – the winner is the first person to cross the finish line…and the runners are allowed to take shortcuts through the forest trails. So, the victory can go to anyone.

This year the victor was a 52-year-old … with a 13-year-old finishing in 4th place overall.

Needless to say, I came in much later…but that is another story…to be continued.

25 years and going strong … another successful Shaffer Butte 50-Mile Endurance Run. Race Director Frank Hanson put on a terrific 25th anniversary event despite his broken collar bone.

This was my first year to be involved with the run, and I started by being a volunteer crew member. Last weekend, my husband Mark crewed for me for 14+ hours at the Blackfoot Ultra 100K, and I figured it was my turn to do the same for some other runners.

The day started early with runners gathering for a 5 a.m. start. It was raining and chilly, and the rain continued for about half the day. It was totally foggy driving up to Deer Point where we were setting up our aid station. It was probably a good thing it was so foggy because I couldn’t see the dropoff on the side of the mountain in the dark and pouring rain. One after another the runners made their way to the Deer Point aid station, soaking wet … but all of them came up the road with smiles on their faces.

I was so inspired by this hardcore group of ultrarunners. Undaunted by the rainy, muddy conditions, they all were cheerful and having a great time…doing what they love to do…running the trails and hills.

I might have been new to this group of super ultrarunners, but they graciously welcomed me. Runners are like that…and ultrarunners even more so. Although I would have really loved to have been running with them, I think it’s good for all of us every now and then to volunteer for an event in order to fully appreciate the support crews that help us in our races.

Congratulations to all the Shaffer Butte runners! Next year, I’ll be out there running with them.

Getting started…getting finished. Both ends of a journey require dedication and passion.

Two days ago, I ran all day – 13 hours, 42 minutes – to complete my first 100K (62 miles) trail race. Forty-five people were signed up for the race; 32 finished – 26 men, 6 women. The weather was perfect, the course was beautiful (plus extremely challenging), the volunteers were spectacular…and 62 miles is a long way to run.

The race consisted of 4 loops of 15.5 miles (25K) each. Although each loop was run over the same trail, no two loops were the same. There were very few flat sections on the course – you were either running up or down the whole time. And, when there was a short flat, the next hill was in sight. It was anything but boring.

The two elevation maps taken from my GPS are typical examples of the terrain – each is a one-mile segment of the course.

Although none of the individual climbs were brutal, total ascent for all 62 miles was about 12,000 feet. The total descent was about the same. We had to work the whole time – not too much relaxing and getting into a running rhythm.

But flat, easy paths do not build muscle. Flat, easy paths do not build character. Flat, easy paths do not challenge us. Flat, easy paths do not teach us life lessons.

Between us and anything significant, giants will be in our path. And each loop, the same hills seemed to get bigger. But there’s no going “around” the hills to avoid them – they have to be taken head on.

There was never a point in the race where I wanted to stop. That’s not to say there were not rough patches – there were many, and especially in the 4th loop, I could have sworn the number of hills doubled in both number and size.

I didn’t sign up for this race thinking it would be easy. And, it wasn’t easy. And, I didn’t go all the way to Canada to not finish what I set out to do. I was dedicated and passionate about reaching this milestone in my quest to run 100 miles this September.

Passion is what helps you when you have a great dream. Passion breeds conviction and commitment.  Passion is what motivates others to join you in your pursuit of your dream.

Thanks to all of you who have been with me in my pursuit with your good thoughts, good energy, and support. Thanks for helping me finish what I start.

On May 30, I am attempting my first 100K race (62 miles) in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada in under 14 hours. I do not know exactly what to expect as I have never run this far before. However, I decided some time last year that I was going to do this…

In Andy Andrews’ book The Traveler’s Gift, David Ponder, the main character, is having a conversation with Christopher Columbus who is on his quest to “find” the New World. Columbus has been traveling for 64 days with no land in sight, yet his passion and belief that he will soon find the New World is as strong as the day he started. The men on his crew are getting restless and worried, and as Columbus tells his crewman, “Our only course is forward!” his crewman asks, “Is this realistic, Capitan? Will we find land?”

As Columbus puts his arm around the man’s shoulders he replies, “No – but then nothing great was every accomplished by a realistic person! We will find land! Yes! Yes! But that will be the least of your discoveries. You will find a heart for success that you did not know existed.”

When David asked Columbus what he meant by a “heart for success,” Columbus replies:

“Most people fail at whatever they attempt because of an undecided heart. Should I? Should I not? Go forward? Go back? Success requires the emotional balance of a committed heart. When confronted with a challenge, the committed heart will search for a solution. The undecided heart searches for an escape.”

I have trained…I have run two 50Ks and a 50-mile race in the past 6 months. That, however, is no guarantee that I can run 62 miles. However, I am confident that I will succeed. Like Columbus, my course has been charted. My destiny is assured. I have a decided heart.

I recently read…”Life is a privilege, but to live life to its fullest…that is a choice.”

This past weekend, Mark and I made a trip home to Shreveport, where we both grew up. I truly marvel that I was once acclimated to the humidity of the South. Humidity and heat notwithstanding, we wanted to run on some trails, so we went to the local running store, Sportspectrum, to find out where the trails were. We were directed to “The Monkey Trail” at Eddie D. Jones Park in Keithville (about 30 minutes from town), so named because it runs around Chimp Haven, a convalescent home for retired chimpanzees.

Trying to beat the heat, we got to the trail around 645 am and set out on our run. The trails were awesome – muggy and buggy, but relatively dry even with the recent flooding in the area. Running on single-track trails under dense tree cover, we felt like we were in a rain forest. We even heard the monkeys screaming through the trees – it sounded like we were in the jungle.

Dancing our way over roots, rocks, and rolling up and down hills, Mark swore we we going uphill the entire time. He kept saying, “Sure will be nice on the way back when we can run downhill.” We decided to go 2 loops out and back in opposite directions from the trailhead in order to come back to the car to refill our water bottles in between  the two 5-mile loops.

While ther were a couple of close calls on roots (which I dubbed “ankle breakers), the first loop was relatively easy and tons of fun. The second loop – running the trail counterclockwise – proved to be both more interesting and more adventurous. From the start of the second loop the trail was a little more rugged and, we noticed, a bit muddier (not muddy enough that our running would damage the trail). And there were a few more uphills and steep drop-offs.

I was running behind Mark – we’d run about a mile – when I nearly stepped on a 4-foot long black snake lying beside the path. Mark hadn’t even seen it! I wanted to get a closer look at it, so I called for Mark to stop. It looked dead because it wasn’t moving, so I got a little closer and threw a stick at it. It still didn’t move. Comfortable that it was dead, we decided that we would take a picture of it with my cell phone on our return trip. So with the adrenaline pumping, we continued on our run. Mark told me to watch out for more snakes, but I reminded him that not only did we need to watch the path for snakes, but also that they often hung out in the trees. This was getting more and more fun! (Not so sure Mark thought so after my snake comment)

On our way back as we were approaching the snake site, I dug my cell phone out of my fuel belt to get a photo. We had discussed maybe not revealing to anyone we showed the picture to that the snake was dead. We would seem so much braver if we had gotten a photo of a live snake. But we didn’t have to worry about our “story” – when we got back to the snake site, he was gone. He WAS alive after all. How cool is that?

We finished our 10-mile run and headed back to the car feeling sweaty, hot, and exhilarated. What a day – we had such a great experience on the beautifully peaceful trils of northwest Louisiana.

Our lives are shaped by choices. We make the choices, then our choices make us. Life is a privilege. To live life to its fullest – that is a choice. Running those trails that particular day was a great choice.

Millions of people will never see the spectacular sights you can see when you run on trails. This ultrarunning video by Matt Hart, member of the Montrail National Ultrarunning Team, illustrates some of the reasons why I love trail running…You have to see it.

Congratulations to Joan, my friend from Indiana, who knocked 6 minutes off her previous marathon time to score a PR at the Eugene Marathon – 5:23! Race day started out rainy and chilly, but about 30 minutes after the start, the skies cleared up and we had perfect running weather.

Joan is quite the success story. In 2002, she completed her first marathon…as a race walker. She trained with the Chicago Arthritis Foundation’s Joints in Motion program and walked the Chicago Marathon faster than many people can run it. Bitten by the marathon bug, Joan is now on a quest to run either a marathon or a half marathon in all 50 states! Eugene was marathon number 9!

Joan has started implementing the run/walk method of training, and it has paid off. Not only did she set a new personal record, but she also felt great the next day. She didn’t even have to walk down the stairs…backwards!

As a spectator on Sunday, I had the opportunity to see it all…the front runners who look like they aren’t even touching the ground and the ones at the end of the race whose goal is to just keep putting one foot in front of the other. All were an inspiration to me.

One thing that is so amazing about the marathon is that we’re all covering the same 26.2 miles in the same race.  It is a challenge at every level – some just cover the same amount of ground a little quicker. And, most runners have mutual respect and admiration for all their fellow runners and walkers.

Watching the finishers come in, I had to struggle to keep it together as I saw kids jump over the railing to run in with their mom or dad…grandkids running in with their grannies and grandpas, and parents and grandparents running in with their kids and grandkids.

Finishing a marathon is a huge accomplishment whether it’s the first or the 51st. And, they never get any easier.

So, Congratulations to Joan for finishing her 9th marathon…and congratulations to all those who crossed the finish line in Eugene!