salomon running

Survive or thrive- thoughts leading into Leadville 100

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Sunny days wouldn’t be so special if it wasn’t for rain. Joy wouldn’t feel so good if it wasn’t for pain.
— 50 cent

Well, it’s time to pin a bib on my shorts again. Somehow I’m dreading it as though I didn’t go and excitedly put in my credit card information when signing up for this some four months ago. Yet here I am, a roller coaster of mixed emotions.

I feel as though time has passed by too quickly, wishing that I could have a redo, jump back to April, when I thought running Leadville 100 would be a good idea. Lets be honest, when is running a hundred miles ever a good idea?! Flashes of the last year come back and I think perhaps I had the best intentions with this race, however it didn’t quite pan out. Sometimes having good intentions doesn’t suffice, the real world comes along to slap on your seat belt and tell you we are actually in for a bumpy ride. Bumpy in my terms would be moving to a new state twice, renovating a house, family deaths due to COVID, navigating unemployment, witnessing my savings dwindling at a record breaking speed, having several interviews with as many let downs, as well as trying to be kind to myself; my partner Eamon and my two dogs Juniper and Aspen. The stressors seemed endless and Leadville was pushed far, far, FAR back in my mind. I never wanted to think about training, rather, when I had the opportunity to run, I used it as a chance to forget my troubles, have fun and destress.

Last month I was able to toe a starting line after a year and a half hiatus. I was partially excited and partially filled with regret. I hadn’t trained the way I wanted to and ended up spending my peak week sick with a head cold. I convinced myself I wouldn’t push it, I’d hate to end up injured mid way through the summer. I think not psyching myself out was one of the main reasons I performed so well all while having a blast. I kept the shuffle consistent while making friends with other racers and felt as though I finished strong.

Now, I just need to mimic that for Leadville. Tushars is 3k feet of climbing shy and about 57 miles less than the Leadville course, meaning there’s a lot MORE RUNNING INVOLVED.

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Who runs 100 miles?

What did I sign up for?

To be transparent I didn’t quite know what I signed up for until I was on the phone with a friend the week of the race and he was asking questions about the course. I think I prefer going into races a bit oblivious due to my overthinking mind, it tends to work out better that way.

Since moving from Los Angeles to Bend and now Boulder, I haven’t spoken much about running or training because I felt, as of late, that I have no real input on the matter. My feelings toward training and racing hasn’t been super positive and really I’ve felt more like an impostor than anything. I’ve been running for about two decades yet I never truly feel like a runner- what does that actually feel like? Really, I have no idea.

I find myself having these debates in my mind on whether I consider myself a runner, and living in Bend my negative self always won. It wasn’t until we moved to Boulder (I don’t know why I move to places I’ve never visited- but here I am) that I feel that my positive self is coming out more. It does help that we are no longer renovating a house all day everyday for 7 months straight and now have more time to spend outdoors.


Mindset

/ˈmīn(d)set/

The driving force in the quest for success and achievement. A mindset that combines discipline, strength, confidence and ambition is a powerful mindset. This can achieve anything it sets its sights on.


Needless to say, going into Leadville, I’ve packed a very large bag full of mixed emotions, a pair of running shoes and a few gu’s. By no means am I writing all this to complain or to vent. But as a reminder that we don’t always go into races in peak physical fitness. In most cases, at least for me, life has a way of weeding it’s way into my training goals and setting up road blocks. To me that is all part of racing, overcoming those barriers and coming out stronger. I look at my time at Tushars and I wasn’t where I wanted to be in my training, far from it, but I had a positive attitude going into the race and had zero expectations on the outcome. I find that when training does go right, you end up walking a fine line between great and over training. Although I may not have quite the positive outlook as I did during Tushars, I know that I’d rather be slightly under trained than over trained. I’ve had my fair share of injuries and it’s not fun and mentally very unhealthy place for me.

The greatest discovery of all time a person can change his future by merely changing his attitude.
— Oprah Winfrey

As much as there are stressors in my life; sure financial stressors can be a heavy load, I have so many great things on the horizon. After several months of navigating the world of unemployment, learning new skills, gaining new certificates to add to the old resume, this past few weeks I’ve spent having multiple interviews and landed a few job offers. A very nice position to be in but stressful nonetheless, in the end I accepted a position with Hydrapak as their digital specialist and start the Monday after Leadville. Tapering isn’t really the way I’d like to spend my final week of unemployment (I miss the Sierra!!). Starting this new position that I am thrilled about is just another reason not to go out too hard at Leadville, not that I would even try, nor capable of it, I don’t want to be limping and/or crawling to my desk on the my very first day.

There are a lot of fun and positive things happening this next week and sure, running 100 miles can be part of it. I need to let go of the dread I feel at the pit of my stomach and accept that I’m going into a race under trained. This will be an opportunity to experience a different racing tactic, you know, to just have fun and survive with as little battle wounds as possible. I don’t have a goal other than to finish and at that finish line I’d like a coffee (CAFFEINE PLEASE) and a beer in hand; two things I’ve given up these last few months in order to have a successful sub 24 hours at Leadville. Wait, I said no goals didn’t I. Whoops.

If you read my previous blog post, I gave up caffeine during Hardrock weekend after getting a head cold and I stopped drinking alcohol in July because, well, I tend to not drink enough water. I’m at that point where I’d rather be properly rested and hydrated going into Leadville and I pray that I don’t fall asleep running during the night again. (Yes, it’s happened before see Fatdog 120 and Javelina 100).

I hope you thoroughly enjoyed my word vomit of all the feels I have going into the race. Running 100 miles isn’t easy, far from it, but sometimes the race is the easiest part when you take into account the countless days, weeks, months that go into the planning, over analyzing, and sometimes training for that same single event. Although I do have a bag of mixed emotions, it doesn’t overshadow the excitement I have to see all the friends that I haven’t seen in a year plus. If anything, my goal is to be overwhelmingly happy pre, during and post race because I’ve missed all you like minded souls TOO MUCH!

As I sit in our living room full of still packed boxes waiting to be moved yet again to a new location in a few short weeks, an energetic puppy finally tired out laying across my feet and a sweet Juniper sleeping ontop of all the chew toys she doesn’t want Aspen to have, I can’t help but feel a sense of appreciation of the journey I’ve been on. Despite all the speed bumps and work zones, this ride called life is nothing short of amazing.

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Tushars 70k recap in the works!

Till next time,

Peace, love, happiness… and dogs

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The Summer of Caffeine Freedom

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I can’t believe I just typed those words but alas ‘tis true. In my effort to not fall asleep during my races this summer, I’ve decided to cut caffeine out of my diet. Let me tell you, I drink a lot of coffee, consume tons of caffeine daily- this decision was far from easy. Now, 10 days later I’m starting to believe I was slightly addicted. Coffee taste amazing, no doubt about that, but mostly I found that I really enjoyed the morning ritual of grinding, pouring and sipping my daily brew. I find now that I have a bit more free time in the morning and surprisingly more energy throughout the day instead of the usual afternoon crash.

In past races, Fatdog 120 and Cascade Crest 100 to be exact, I’ve found myself feeling overly vulnerable late at night, surpassing any point where caffeine would aid in any alertness. I have fallen asleep while running, standing, and a second into sitting on a log. That feeling, where you are unbearably tired to the point where it aches to keep you’re eyelids open isn’t something I’d like to repeat- yet I’m always so quick at ultrasignup race registrations.

My training has been less than ideal these last few months, between two dogs, moving to a different state and the stress of finding new employment, I’ve found little time and really not much enthusiasm in getting out and doing any sort of workouts. Moving from Bend to Boulder has definitely relit a spark of adventure and I plan to hold onto that excitement for as long as it lasts. Exploration has been my new side hustle and I look forward to adventuring around Colorado more.

This weekend I have the opportunity to explore the Tushar Mountain ranger while “running” Tushars 70k. The Tushar Mountains are located east of Beaver, Utah, about 190 miles south of Salt Lake City. Rising to over 12,000 feet in elevation, the Tushars are the third-highest mountain range in Utah. While I’m attempting my best to have fun during the race, Kelly and Howie will be running Ouray 100 and Tara will be running Highlonsome here in CO. Cheer them on virtually, in person, whatever you can to send some good vibes their way!

Many wonderful and terrible things have happened since my last post. Although there are probably close to two dozen half written posts on cue, I decided to put those aside for now and keep it lighthearted and casual. 2020 was filled with the most incredible adventures and yet heartbreak and death. I hope, for all of you, that 2021 has shown you more kindness than sorrow, adventure than staying static, hope rather than loss.

My rambling will now cease, now time to plan these adventures.

Peace, love and happiness,

Sawna

Photo by the incredible Hilary Matheson

Photo by the incredible Hilary Matheson

Don't believe everything you think: Cascade Crest 100

When I think about racing these ultra distances I don’t actually think about the event itself but how I arrived to toe that starting line. I reflect on the miles of training, the highs of some runs, the lows of recovery days, the early morning wake up calls, the adapting to lingering injuries, re-assessing and addressing weekly goals and the constant motivation and support of loved ones. Without that support those miles would be inconceivable. Exploring the curiosity of running 50 miles, 100k, 100 miles is a strong driving force for me but the physical limits of the human body can override this desire all too easily. This summer I experienced something new; my body and mind continuously telling me I couldn’t achieve this race distance the weeks leading up to this endeavor yet there I was, standing at the start line, bib pinned on.

Cascade Crest 100 has been one of the races at the top of my list when first being introduced to the Central Cascade Mountains just outside of Seattle, Washington. It's no secret that most of my races revolve around the Pacific North West because of the beautiful terrain and even more incredible people; Cascade Crest was no different. 

This summer started off with a bang. My training felt solid, my body strong and my mind focused on my summer goals. I had several long training weeks and felt as though I'd recover and bounce back eager for more miles and quality time spent in the mountains. The best part was I never felt as though running was ever training but just an activity I was passionate about and was stoked to do every day. Unfortunately all of that was put on pause when I began feeling pain in my posterior tibial tendon that would increase anytime I'd run downhill and on flat hard surfaces. I was in the middle of a three week running trip in Colorado when I decided to come home early.

If not a mountain runner? Than what am I?

Rich from VFE, hes a miracle worker, fights all the knots and tightness my body has been creating!

Rich from VFE, hes a miracle worker, fights all the knots and tightness my body has been creating!

A question that surfaced all too frequently those weeks during summer that were spent not in the mountains and most importantly, not running. I vest so much of my identity in ultra running and just mountain running in general, that once it’s taken away, even momentarily, I often asked myself “Who am I if I’m not running?”. It took awhile to gain momentum again once I accepted the fact that I needed to take time away from running to regain full health. I live, breath and dream about my next running adventure, be it local mountains, the Sierra or my annual trip to Colorado, I’ve always believed that I should work hard but play harder. Spending the rest of July and August far from those mountain peaks was devastating but I still had Cascade Crest 100 at the end of August on my Calendar. Everyday I questioned whether or not I should drop from the race, if my body would be recovered from my injury by then and if I should even run it recovered without even a mile ran in the last month. I took the process day by day, found my love of cycling and swimming again and was able to spend some time outdoors climbing with my boyfriend and some friends. Although I was still active almost everyday, I felt as though a part of me was missing, I was overwhelmingly sad I wasn’t doing the thing I was most passionate about and learned to mask those feelings in hopes that I can stay positive and focus on recovering. I gave up alcohol, all forms of gluten, and only consumed whole foods that were anti-inflammatory as well as incorporated a weekly strength training as well as sport massage with Rich and Julio at VFE in hopes for a quicker recovery. I dreamed of rugged trails, alpine vistas, mountain peaks, sore muscles, and crossing the finish line in Easton, WA.

Despite my gut feeling and well, my body telling me otherwise, we bought our plane tickets, booked an airbnb and the decision was finally made with a mere week left until race day.

On August 25th at 10am, I began the trek of 100 miles across the Cascade Mountains. Now, a couple months later, I shake my head at myself. I knew at the start line that I shouldn’t have been there and I continued to question my decision every step of the way. Not only was I still not healed- still hadn’t ran, but I was dealing with recovering from a cold, the wheezing in my breathing was a constant reminder of poor decision making.

The race normally known for its unbearable heat, was cold and rainy this year. The weeks leading up to the race, Washington and most of the PNW were dealing with fires and an overwhelming amount of smoke so the rain was welcomed with open arms.

I’d like to tell you that the entire thing was a mistake, running 100 miles when your body is not ready is pretty stupid. However, despite feeling pretty terrible most of the time, I was able to see an incredible amount of friends out on the course and even got to run half the race with Hilary and Ely. Those miles shared were pretty rough but shared with those two, made it an experience to remember- definitely would say it was type 2 fun! We supported each other, cheered on the grunts and howls and lifted each other up when times were low. Not only was I able to share those miles with two friends, I also picked up Eamon at Hyak Aid, mile 55, being my crew and pacer, this was a great test to our relationship! We continued off with Hilary and her pacer but not even a mile out of the aidstation, my posterior tibial tendon pain resurfaced and left me walking, tears flowing down my face. I waved goodbye to Hilary as she continued to run and debated whether I should just end this quest now, giving it a good 55 miles of trying. Eamon encouraged me to continue, despite my meltdown, and we continued forward.

The miles passed slowly, as my moods went from one extreme to the other as Eamon, the incredible partner that he is, continued with his positive pep talks and occasional embraces when my mood was at an all time low and perhaps a bit snappy. As the miles krept by, my eyes demanding sleep, I felt empty of all sources of energy and I couldn’t imagine the finish line. I’ve never experienced feeling this low during any ultra and didn’t know how to manage all the negativity that were surfacing. This person had taken over my body- this negative and sad person kept repeating the word can’t.

Thank you Eamon for letting me borrow your socks and I’m sorry I put a hole in them :( Fantastic photo by Glenn!

Thank you Eamon for letting me borrow your socks and I’m sorry I put a hole in them :( Fantastic photo by Glenn!

Genuinely happy to see Glenn again toward the top of Thorp. This climb seemed never ending. Before the 6 mile descent of my bodies destruction and unwillingness to move faster than a crawl.

Genuinely happy to see Glenn again toward the top of Thorp. This climb seemed never ending. Before the 6 mile descent of my bodies destruction and unwillingness to move faster than a crawl.

I can’t do this, I kept repeating to myself. Not only was I vocal about this belief but in my my mind believed what I was saying. I can’t do this, I repeated. My body was in a whirl of hurt, at this point it wasn’t just my shin but my right hip and my overall posture was slumped over trying to find a running position that wasn’t painful. In past races, I’d have a second, third, fourth wind, however, here there was no second chances- I was giving it my all.

Don’t believe everything you think. Thoughts are just that- thoughts.
After a month of not drinking, I enjoyed a few sips of beer at the finish line… until the dehydration and headache hit me.

After a month of not drinking, I enjoyed a few sips of beer at the finish line… until the dehydration and headache hit me.

I crossed the finish line after 27 hours and 3 minutes of running. After years of envisioning running this race, I had never pictured the day to end like this. I wanted so badly to perform in such a way that when I couldn’t physically achieve that goal, I barely held on for dear life, exhausting all resources and crying a shit ton. I was disappointed in myself as an athlete, not just because I felt as though I could do better, but because I risked my health and my body to get to this point. Was it worth it? The belt buckle, the Hardrock qualifier, adding another month of not running? The race itself, was incredible! The volunteers, the runners, the supporters, the course (even in the cold) were all what I dreamed of, but was it worth injuring myself further? I can’t honestly answer that question. Despite being left with another injury that left me hobbling around for a month after the race, everything that happened during those 27 hours was an experience I wouldn’t trade, a hard lesson learn. It’s amazing the things we can train our minds to believe, for the best or for the worst.

It was then, weeks later, when I stopped focusing on how long it would take me to hobble to work, or worry about getting Juniper proper exercise, when I stopped stressing at the idea of getting back to my normal self and just let myself be, that I was able to heal. I remember the moment I took notice, I ran up my parents stairs to say hi and stopped at the top- light switch just flipped, realizing that I had just RAN up the stairs with zero pain and without effort. I realized I hadn’t been late to work lately and that I was able to cross the street before the hand started blinking and without hobbling. My body was feeling good and most importantly, I was happy!

With two weeks of transitioning the miles back into my routine and then three solid weeks of running in the mountains under my belt, I’m finally feeling back to myself. Injuries are no joke and the time it takes to heal and recover should be taken seriously, an idea I’m learning to grasp. Despite being injured, I look back at my summer and am amazed at how positive my reaction toward it is. Yes, perhaps I couldn’t run most of the summer but that time wasn’t wasted. I was able to build a healthy and loving relationship with an incredible human being, do other activities other than running that I’ve sidelined in the past, and I got to watch my best friend Rhea finish her first 100 mile race (also Cascade Crest), among many other things. I’ve always defined myself as a runner but it’s not what makes me, me. These last few months helped me realized that this one sport doesn’t define me as a person, but it’s the choices I make in the end that controls my happiness and overall well being.

Since Cascade Crest, I’ve been able enjoy time away from running, spending a few week in Peru as well climbing in the Sierra and just spending quality time with my family, friends and boyfriend. As much as I tried to write about my trip to Peru with Run Like A Girl, I felt as though I needed to get this specific experience off my chest (don’t worry, more adventure posts to come!). The negative feelings clouded my overall experience and writing about it helped me grasp all the good things and all the great memories I had made during that journey. As I embark on my next adventure, packing my bags for Mexico, I feel as though all that stress and negativity is behind me and the happy go lucky Sawna has returned and is ready for the next Chapter to begin.

Till next time!

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A playlist featuring Colony House, Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness, Kodaline, and others