Fish Can't Run… or Can They?

So this year has been vastly different from 2013. Last year I went from event to event to event. Century bike rides, triathlons of all distances (including an ironman distance), a marathon, even a 50K. I felt like a machine. But the reality was I was just a junkie with an expensive habit. I drained our bank account and neglected my family almost every weekend. I was like that teenage kid you just don't know how to deal with.

As with anyone who realizes that they have a problem and overindulged, I had to drastically scale back this year for many reasons. As I look back now, I think prior to last weekend I only participated in five events this year: a 15 miler in January, a 20 miler in February, a marathon in March (which I pathetically DNF'ed), the Tough Mudder in July, and a trail 5K in August (where I got a minor injury). That's it. For normal people this would be plenty enough. But the junkie in me struggled with my withdrawal from going from race to race almost every other week it seemed.

So fate was kind to me and threw me a bone. One of my friends I met on the fitness social site DailyMile asked if I would be willing to join his team for the Tuna 200 Relay from Raleigh to Atlantic Beach, North Carolina on October 10th and 11th. I am not a seasoned relayer but I have two of these kinds of races under my belt… the DC Ragnar Relay in 2011 and the Colonial 70 in 2012. They are really a blast and unlike any other running event that you'll ever do, so I was eager to join in.

I only knew three of the eleven other team members, and not well at that. Most people might find the scenario of spending over 24 hours straight in close quarters with strangers too daunting. But runners are a special kind of people. We have a million different backgrounds: from lawyers to active military to housewives to homeless nomad… we all just love to put our feet on the pavement and struggle through to our goal. And that common thread makes you automatic comrades.

So our team was called "Fish Can't Run"… a play on the fact that it's odd for an ultra relay to be named after an animal that has no legs or feet, and cannot run whatsoever.

So we met up in Raleigh on Thursday evening, had a nice dinner at an Italian restaurant, stayed at one of the runner's parent's homes (so hospitable and kind it was unreal), and met up at the start:

I won't eat tuna or BBQ, but I sure looked forward to the beer!

Decorated our vans and gave each other fishy "code names"

The race provided tattoos with directions for our legs. Wish I could have read them without my reading glasses.

Steve, our "Captain Catfish", leads us off at 8 am

Here I am on my first leg, climbing insane hills. Tough run.

Andrea and Dene at an exchange.

We experienced a beautiful sunset after the first 11 hrs of the race

As the sun sets and you are in your second leg of the relay, that's when you start asking yourself: "What am I doing, exactly?" I started off on my second leg around 10 pm… one of the longest ones (a 9.3 miler) and it was pitch dark. I blew my legs up a bit on my earlier run, trying to fly on a very hilly and challenging leg, and my body wasn't used to the terrain. So I was a bit fatigued. It was cooler (thank God, we had monster high temps for October while the sun was up) and so I felt pretty decent in the first mile or so. I know I needed to turn at about mile 2, but the course had been so well marked I just trusted that I'd see that blinky light on that sign.

I ran on. Pretty decent pace. I pass another runner. I'm finding a zone. That's when a van pulls up alongside me with some strange people in it yelling at me. I'm off course. I missed a turn. They lost their runner too. Get in the van. They'll take me back to where I was supposed to turn. Is that legal? Other runners were in there. Okay. In I go. Dammit!!!

They ask me if I want to be driven a little farther up to make up for lost time. The stubborn mule in me says no. Drop me off here where I should have turned and I'm going to try to haul ass. And that's what I did. Well, tried to do anyway. I pulled out my fastest 10.5 miler of the past several months, but I lost minutes for our overall team time. No one was grumpy about it, just me.

And then I was TIRED. This girl needs her rest. I'm the type that goes to bed around 9:30 pm every night and wakes up at 5, and I'm not good without sleep. I tried to get horizontal in the van around 1 am, but I was kinked up and uncomfy. I might have dozed off a bit here and there but good quality sleep was not to be had. That's just part of this. The tough part. Those moments in the race where you question your sanity for doing something like this.

Add to this my funny food requirements. Being plant based, I couldn't participate in the pizza refuel at one of the exchanges. And I was tired of eating almond butter bagels, Larabars, apples and bananas. I craved something warm and hearty like a veggie chili or a bean burrito. But no one offers these types of things at these events. Oh well.

And then it was morning and time for our van to take over again. My last leg of the relay started about 6:15 am. It was on a very busy street in the town of Mayville, North Carolina. I ran against traffic and was freaked out a couple of times by several huge semi trucks that whooshed by me so close I was almost knocked down by the gust of wind they created. My adrenaline surged. Too bad my legs were pretty fried at that point. I could only muster about an 8:00/mi pace. I was lucky to pull that off, frankly.

My teammate took over right as the sun emerged on the horizon and I was able to take my favorite shot of the relay from my cell phone as he ran past me:

Then Van 1 was done and Van 2 took over to get us to the coastline. And we made it.

We all gathered to join our last runner to the finish

You know that moment? Where coming through the big finish arch erases every tough moment of questioning why you signed up? It takes any regret or any memory of hardship? You just feel this huge sense of accomplishment and pure joy. It makes every step worth it, and all of the difficulty in getting there evaporate away. All you think about is the way you pushed on, the way your teammates cheered you on and encouraged you, the way that people can instantly change from a stranger to a teammate and friend, and that as a team you did something extraordinary.

The medal was cool, too.

Heavier than a tuna fish. And sharp too!

So needless to say my passion for running events and races has been completely invigorated. I'm signing up for the Wicked 10K here in the next 10 days, then on to the Harbor Lights Half on November 23rd. It's easy for me to get sucked into the black hole, the "abyss" of my obsessions. But my biggest challenge… more than getting a faster pace or setting a new PR, is how I maintain balance with it all. I'm a notorious junkie. I've been in rehab. Can I keep it all in check?

In other news, I start a 31 day action program showing me the nuts and bolts of positive change. I have lots of little habits I want to break and new ones to establish. Rome wasn't built in a day and I'm not trying to be Rome either. Rome wasn't perfect, was it? But I'm intrigued by the process of how people get OUT of bad habits and establish new positive ones that change their lives. Change is hard. There's a science to the process.

More on that later.