In early spring a couple friends suggested I submit my name to represent the US at the IAU 50K World Champs, which would be held in September in Braşov, Romania. I didn't think I'd make it. One, because I had never run a 50K, and two, because I possessed the least of all criteria.
Selection criteria involved meeting one of the following,
1. Automatic selection to first M/F who finish in the top-10 at the previous year's World Champs (N/A for 2019 Champs)
2. Automatic selection to first American M/F that provide min performance standards at
A. 2019 Caumsett Park 50K (USATF Nat'l 50K Champs on 3/3/19)
B. 2019 Mad City 50K
3. Addt'l selections made based on prioritizing 50K road, road marathon, and 50K trail
4. Minimum qualifying performances for auto-qualification and consideration
B. Female - 50K Road or Track in sub-3:33:00, Marathon Road - Sub 2:48:00
In a gray world of navigating entries to races, my ego was prettypretty deflated. In trying to ascertain why, I'd say that the very things that keep me hot and motivated can be the very things that are painful to acknowledge. It's hard to be your own best advocate, all the time, especially when you lack assertiveness. So, I'm grateful I have friends that nudge me along in pursuit of such things as the 50K opp. With a rough sketch of a fall race plan, I courted Chicago, TCM and the 50K. It was hard and wonderful when one morning in June I got an email that I had been selected to represent the US at the IAU 50K World Champs alongside 5 other women and 6 men.
In a sense it felt serendipitous; I'd been taking an online class on the Holocaust & The Destruction of European Jewry, and couldn't put Leon Uris down, which isn't to say something specific, just that I was totally enmeshed in the history of Europe, and had thought often why? and found it. A part of me wondered if it was in my best interest to invest in the opportunity (as it can be costly), but also emotionally. It had been a really challenging year of painful loss and painful growth (or that space before growth happens when everyone is itchy). Yet, I couldn't pass it up. It might be my only opportunity to run on a World stage. To represent the US. Yes! For all of the reasons why I could not, I also could. I love packing. I love to travel. I love watching. I love seeing. I love learning. I love rooms and houses and interiors. I love taking photos. I love pulling out a paperback at a coffee shop on a cobbled street. Simply, I love saying Yes. I've often daydreamed about the possibility of traveling alone, always alongside others for the simple joy of seeing things two-fold. I thought I might be good at it, but, was the thought real? With it being high-wine-season, M would stay home and I'd miss his family's 50th wedding anniversary and our 1st, but it was still Yes. Because, and maybe this is off - there are more anniversaries to be had, but there might only ever be this one race, for me. And because when you're "over there," it's easy to get around, so I opted for a post-race pilgrimage to Ireland. I'd see if I was who I had painted in mind.
In June I was coming off of 5K-specific training...I had 2-2.5 months to get into marathon+ shape. Did a 9 week build with a 2 week taper. Ran the longest LR's of my life (25, 26.2), the biggest mileage (111), cut workouts from the schedule when it felt like I didn't need more work (thank you life lessons), and I went through a buttload of medical to try to garner more information on my ischemic colitis, so I could prep the med staff in Romania if I had to (samples, bloodwork, US, colonscopy). I felt ready to do the work (physically, mentally); I handled the volume well, most likely because I had Rad Bones keeping my common grievances quiet. There weren't big flashy workouts, just at-times glimmers.
My goals: Get off the airplane with happy-enough adductors. Finish. Score. Be competitive. I don't think I ever had a place goal but Top 10 in the World sounded rad. And pie-in-the-sky, because there should always be room for a little magic, would be to go after the American Record of 3:13:51, set in '83 by Janis Klecker.
WEDNESDAY
The morning I left for Romania, I had a major migraine, vommed, and had to block all the light as my poor grandparents & mother drove me in silence to YVR, skipping our cute plans for lunch in Whiterock. As I headed into the airport my mother handed me a pair of underwear that said, "Happy." I mean, I had 2x 40lb packs splintering the seams, and really did not want to have to carry this pair of Happy underwear everywhere I went, but I think it made her feel good. She was wee-worried I'd die. Ended up getting in some fried chicken and coke and got cozy on the 12-hour flight to Romania, arriving in Bucharest in the early evening. Staff of the event were waiting with signs at the exit, and alongside a family I'd fall in love with, the Northern's, we were escorted with little white paper snack baggies to a cozy lil van for the couple hour drive to Braşov. The Northern entourage included my teammate Elizabeth (Liz), her husband, their son & daughter and her parents. We had car seats and stroller and snacks and binkies and watched the sky darken against the landscape that grew in curves the higher in elevation we climbed.
Arriving near 10 pm at our ski-chalet in a subset of Braşov called Alpin in Poiana Braşov - a 4*'r with spa, a semi-olympic pool, something called an "emotional shower," escape rooms, playgrounds, several restaurants serving French & Med dishes, decorated in brown-patterned & red-velvety carpets, glass chandeliers, old blown up photographs of vintage skiers as wallpaper. The hotel is surrounded by the Southern Carpathians and forests of scots pine and pedunculate oak; the silver and whites of grey alder, fir, poplar and beech. The Northern's and I disbanded. To my single room, which was cute and dated in a homey, musty way. A balcony with a breathtaking view of the ski resort in summer, the forests. Fell asleep without trouble, trying to get on that Romanian clock.
THURSDAY
All participating countries were staying at the Alpin and accompanying Aparthotel, milling about at the buffet set out for meals three times a day, or in the front lobby, dressed in tracksuits, petting the hotel's two white cats. It felt Olympic. It felt 1970s. At the breakfast brunch the first morning (and then all subsequent meals) I went to TOWN. Like 2-3 plates every meal. Like waffles with a blanket of nutella warmed by the soft red light usually adorning pork. Like personal baguettes. Thick squares of gamy feta. Several bebe espressos and foamy froths. Like sweet creamy cornmeal mush. I'd take snacks in napkins for the room. Everything, as if I had never eaten. As if I was getting my money's worth at a Vegas buffet.
Before meeting the team I went for a short run, was going to gallivant on this sick wooded trail but saw a sign warning of cobras...followed streets to their ends, up hills, past the House of Dracula hotel and a group of men dressed in black play-fighting in the woods...It was stimulating. Bumped into a treasure of a woman, Lin, our team lead, while out on her run, and instantly enjoyed her. Stuck onto her like a leech, forcing her to take me to Braşov city, so we could tour it together. A hot, airless bus ride down the mountain to the city centre, where we walked for hours looking through graveyards, in St. Nicholas' Orthodox & cemetery (1292), the museum of the 1st Romanian school (1583), the Neolog Synagogue, strada sforii or "rope street," one of the narrowest streets in Europe. Sipped off a glass tank of lime spritz found in an alley. To the Schei Gate (1827-28), at and within Biserica Neagra (10 leu pp).
The originally-Roman Catholic structure was known as the Church of Saint Mary...Construction on it began during the late 14th century...between 1383 and 1385. According to popular legend, a German child was disturbing the Bulgarian builders or told them that one of the walls was leaning. An annoyed Bulgarian pushed the child off the church tower and then immured his corpse in the church to conceal his crime. It is known that, in its first stages, the building was serviced by a priest named Thomas (died 1410), whose grave is located in the choir area...Completed during the 15th century (soon after 1476), the church belongs to the final stages of Gothic architecture. The result was a three-naive basilica, all the same height, as was preferred during the 15th and 16th centuries in the German lands, where most of the architects and masons originated...The Catholic services were replaced with Lutheran ones during the Protestant Reformation...The structure was partially destroyed during a great fire set by invading Habsburg forces on April 21, 1689 (during the Great Turkish War). Afterwards, it became known as the Black Church...Following the fire of 1689, Biserica Neagra was repaired with the help of masons coming from Danzig, as local craftsmen had not mastered the craft of completing the enormous vaults; these were to be completed in Baroque style...has a six-ton bell, the biggest in Romania, an impressive 4,000 pipe organ built in 1839, which is played during weekly concerts, as well as a rich collection of 'Transylvanian' rugs donated from the 15th to 17th centuries by Transylvanian Saxon merchants.A whole, ornate, livingbreathing thing. Pews segregated and adorned in shield-like identity scapes of angels and animals and boots. Broken casts, a foot, a torso. Circling around it to see its spires and small wooden doors. The hot ride back, feet vibrating.
Moved into an apartment with the lovely Peterson family, and teammate Courtney. The lot of us met in one of the hotel apartments for race info and logistics, led by Lin and Susan, our team leads. I remember the reinforced notion that they would do everything in their power to get us across the finish line, and feeling like, Hell Yes.
FRIDAY
Incessant howling from dogs outside the balcony window blended into a dream where I fought off a cougar. Disjointed sleep. To breakfast: eggs, turkey, hashbrown, yogurt & fruit, lattes, a croissant with nutella, small loaves of bread with cubes of bleu cheese. At 9 am the US women and I went for a run to a nearby track with an accompanying track cat. Post run, hanging in the buffet talking sound minds and to-reads over coffee. Lounged, laid, snoozed, read Joyce's Finnegan's Wake, transcribed. More baguettes, bleu cheese. A lost day. Dinner in the restaurant with the team featured white rice, curry, deep-fried hardboiled eggs, a tiered cake. After, Lin and I talked bottles, hand placement, what/where/when, as she'd be my support person on the course. A fitfull sleep.
SATURDAY
Waffles, nutella, porridge rice with fruit, hardboiled egg with meats and cheeses, a latte or 5. Met the team for a 4 mile shakeout & strides at the track. Lounged. Prepped bottles. Napped. At 4:30 pm we headed to Braşov city for Opening Ceremonies, dressed in swishy navy blue tracksuits with "USA" in white across our backs. Ushered into our places, led by a local who held our flag until we'd begin our march. The most lit group was definitely RSA. The parade was fun-funny; subdued excitement on the faces of those enjoying thick plumes of hookah and large glasses of white wine seated in the center of the road at this or that outside dinery. We entered the town square, and country by country were led to the main stage as introductions ensued. After our stage moment we were seated before high rankers giving heartening speeches, and local musicians and dancers performed these rich Romanian pieces. Bused back to the hotel to lay out race provisions.
SUNDAY
IAU 50K World Championships
Buffet breakfast, espresso machines annihilated. Tour-bused in around 8 am. A long stretch of flat road closed off with white tents in a row for each country to set out support tables. Our team, the leads and parents and loved ones, had purchased & prepped coolers, bags of ice, sponges, water, coke. Had our personal bottles chilled. We'd have tent city as our main support station (it also served the start and finish line), and there'd be another support station at the turnaround. Warming up in that pre-race cloak of nervous pees and Legs?! The Champs also held a locals race, of which maybe there were 30 people on top of the couple hundred of us. A countdown...
Go.
With 100% asphalt, the looped course consisted of a 5K, then 5x 9K loops. The loops passed Livada Postei, Braşov Prefecture, Sica Alexandrescu Theatre, Patria Hal, CFR Hospital, Brasov County Court, Hidromecanica, Wooden Church, the Civic Centre, "Trei Alimentare" Crossing, Zizinului St., Bulevardul 15 Noiembrie, Astra Hospital, Calea Bucresti St. and the "Poinelor" roundabout; with it being a looped course, for every up we'd get a down. The elevation profile was semi-deceiving, but held my attention, which I appreciated. I'd trained so often on Squalicum Pkwy, up and down, endless loops, that I felt prepared for the up, down & mindnumb.
It was hot. Hotter than I'm used to racing in. Thank heavens for the extra liquids and sponges. I think I did a good job at keeping my body temp under control. At one point I squirted some of the sponge water in my mouth and got the gnarliest throat coat of chemicals, said out loud: Not smart.Then laughed out loud because I was talking to myself, out loud, which is something a dear friend said begins to happen when you get older. Our group would grow and shrink and Lighthouse Liz would introduce athletes around, and I'd just smile with my dumb Kenny Power sunglasses on, admiring the professionalism, the support of women for women.
Took in a lot more calories than I'm used to (shot blocs, honeystinger chews, maurten bottles, gu's, swedish fish, ending with nibbles of a stroop waffle, which was the final straw for intake). Could have taken in more water. Stopped for a bathroom break, which disengaged me from the group, but I was able to work back up to them.
Alyson Dixon and Helen Davies of GBR had led from the gun. It had been intimated that those who led hardly ever finished 1st, so I was hoping they'd slowly come back to us. I did the math when they'd pass an object ahead, how long it would take for us to hit it. In one of my brainmathmoment's it was clear they wouldn't, in fact come back to us. In the last loop and a half or so, they were over a mile ahead of us. We needed to make sure we were still pushing to secure a podium spot for the team.
Inner and outer hips got weak around the halfway point, loss of rotation/full stride. It would go away intermittently, but definitely stayed around and led to slowing down. Glutes were talking, Are anyone else's glutes talking? Felt better on the ups than the downs, not sure if I just pressed the ups to a point that the downs always felt like recovery as opposed to_______. It would have been nice to have gears then. Liz made some moves and I'd slowly catch up to match, but her gears were better. Then there, the last lap. Trying to use the down to my advantage. Knowing I was going to finish despite uncharted land was a comfort I don't take for granted.
Liz dropped me, pulled me along. We passed a couple women in the final loop, overtaking Ireland's Caitriona Jennings in the last 800. I kept Liz in sight, reeled her in, and before I knew it was alongside and thought, Damn! Do I grab her hand? Is that legal? It'll look rad, but...and with indecision crossed the finish line one footfall in front of her. We finished near side-by-side as 5th and 6th in the World in 3:19:23 & 3:19:24, 1st and 2nd American's, helping our team to a Bronze Medal. Our times also earned us #3 & #4 on the American All-Time List. Following thereafter was Caroline Veltri (10th in 3:24:31), Sarah Cummings (15th in 3:27:45), Devon Yanko (22nd in 3:32:01) and Courtney Peterson (27th in 3:35:45). Alyson Dixon would go on to a new WR, finishing 1st in 3:07:20, with her teammate, Helen Davies finishing her first 50K and 2nd OA in 3:09:16. GBR would take Gold. Full Results HERE.
On the US men's side, there was a mixed bag. Kyle Masterson led the US men with a 7th place finish in 2:51:09. Craig Hunt was 10th in 2:51:42. Eric LiPuma (who was asked to step in after another teammate had to cancel due to injury, the week of the race) was 24th in 3:04:14. Zachary Ornelas was 34th in 3:07:56, and Austin Bogina was 63rd in 3:38:07. The latter half of the group were gritty as hell, battling some real low moments, sickness and injury to get across the finish line. Unfortunately Tyler Andrews had to drop due to food poisoning.
As soon as I crossed the finish line, Lin, who had promised me she would have an aperol spritz waiting in hand, did not have an aperol spritz in hand. But she did go above and beyond to make sure that my IC was managed. I had slight nausea upon finishing, but my body didn't go to IC town, which was/is INSANE. Insanely wonderful. She had it all set up that I could get an IV right away, and damn it, I didn't even need it. In the best way, I didn't need it. That coupled with the fact that after 24 hours it felt like my body had rebounded, makes me believe that I can give more, and immediately after, and now, I want the chance to. If you crack the Top 10 at Worlds, you're invited back. We had (3) women do that. They'll announce (sometime) if there will be another World Championship Road 50K in 2020 - I'm waiting with bated breath.
After the race, after a shower where I laid down and handwashed my USA kit so it wouldn't taint the rest of my gear for Ireland, after sitting in bed, after a v. delicious cold peroni purchased by Mr. Will Northern, after all of it we dressed in stuffy, thick track suits stitched with USA, and had our moment on stage receiving the bronze trophy. Later that evening, back at Hotel Alpin, the afterparty was lit, I got my aperol spritz's or two, we sat around outside inviting each other to each other's states, and man, I can't wait to see these people again. I've said it a few times, but it's important for me to remember, recognize, and appreciate - the whole experience revolving around the IAU 50K World Champs was the first time in my life that I felt like I was a true athlete, that all this training is/was for something larger than I imagined, and how truly special it is that a friend simply says, Hey, you should put your name in.
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