5:30a.m. The alarm starts its rhythmic beat. I hit the first of what will be two snooze zones. Finally waking up, I’m a little stiff and sore, but I get myself going. Today is a big one—time for my 3-hour training run. I have my breakfast of oatmeal with bananas and head to the Romero Canyon Trail. It is still dark and it is cold. More than once this thought crosses my mind: “What am I doing?!” I ignore my inner skeptic who would rather be in bed, and I meet up with my training partners at the trailhead.
There is just enough light to get started. I shed a layer, knowing I will warm up once we get going, grab my water bottle, and start the run. Part way up the first climb I start to warm up and my heart-rate settles in. I shed the arm warmers, continue to hydrate, and find my climbing rhythm. The sun starts to rise. The air is crisp and peaceful. That momentary lethargy and those questions about what I’m doing have vanished.
We hit the peak of the first climb—the view is amazing; the air crystal clear. All of Santa Barbara can be seen from this vantage point. Looking out towards the ocean over the city where most people are still sleeping, I feel the morning sun and I know exactly what I am doing. We start the first descent to get ready for the next climb.
This was my weekend routine for three months. I was training for the 35-mile ultra-endurance run called Santa Barbara 9 Trails. On the trail-running circuit, 9 Trails is considered one of the toughest in the nation. With all the changes in elevation and the single track and rocky portions of trail, I can certainly attest to this claim. It was by far the toughest fitness challenge I have ever undertaken.
I began my training after competing in an easier trail run called the Bull Dog Ultra in Malibu Canyon. Finishing 3rd in my age group in that event I felt I was ready to undertake a bigger challenge. After a year of doing several triathlons and cycling events I had really taken a liking to trail running. My training for 9 Trails consisted of two parts: running and strength training. I had weekly running schedules to follow as part of my training with the Santa Barbara Running Group. The weekly schedule included one track workout to work on interval running, which made a big difference in my longer endurance runs.
The other crucial part of my event preparation regimen was SOMA strength training with Scott. The SOMA workouts improved markedly my leg and core strength, and this proved a huge advantage for me in the climbing stages of the event. At several points in my training I ran with others who did not do the strength training, and they made mention of the noticeable difference it had done for me. Stretching and bodywork were also part of my SOMA training; although, in retrospect, this was a component that I realize I did not utilize as much as I should have.
Race day was greeted by another crisp, clear Santa Barbara morning in late November. The temperature was warm, however, and would only get warmer. This was something many runners would pay the price for later, in the form of crippling muscle cramps.
The loud speaker started us all off around 6:30a.m. and everyone started at an easy pace up the first hill. What started as a clump of 130 bodies soon fanned out as runners made their way up the first single-track ascent. With my running game plan in mind, I made sure not to let the adrenaline get the best of me and push me toward starting too quick. I kept an eye on my heart-rate monitor and worked to stay within my range. I knew if I started fast I would pay for it later. 9 Trails is a race about patience, one that demands strategy, restraint, pacing, and knowing how to hold enough fuel in the tank for the last stages. And I felt good going into the first climb. I hit the first peak in the timeframe I had hoped for, and I made sure I was following my nutritional plan and getting enough calories and hydration per hour. It was on the first descent that something happened.
I was handling the downhill pounding on my quads fairly well, I thought, when suddenly—a pop and twinge in my right quad/IT band area. From that point on, pain would be radiating down my quad and into my right knee. The downhill portions accentuated the pain and became especially difficult. But I managed to make it to the ½ mark in decent time. This surprised me, as I felt I was not able to run anywhere near my normal pace. I made a quick adjustment to my shoes at aid station, but I did not camp for long, as the decrease in movement induced cramping in my legs. I took more salt tablets to help keep my metabolism regulated and off I went, heading for home on the return trip.
I passed one running partner who had turned back; he was dropping at the ½ part due to excessive cramping. The warm temperatures were getting to many of the runners. And at the beginning of the trip back, my mind also began to focus on the pain in my knee. I became frustrated and upset. I had trained so hard for this and I knew I could do it. But I could not run my normal pace at this point. For a few moments the thought did cross my mind of dropping at the ½ way mark. But, once again, that thought didn’t last long. I was determined to finish. Some people might not agree with my decision or my thinking. But it wasn’t about anyone else; it was about me, about a goal I made and one I wanted to see through.
On the trip back, I was running as best I could on the ascents. But even these would eventually become quite painful. The descents were still the worst, putting the most strain on the injured leg muscles. I ended up having to walk most of them, trying to keep weight off my right leg, which eventually led to some intense blistering on both my feet. To make matters worse, I was basically alone on the trails, with the exception of a few runners who would pass me here or there. At one point, as I was crawling through the bamboo tunnel (yes, folks, you must negotiate a bamboo tunnel on hands-and-knees on this run), my legs began cramping severely. As I clawed my way out of the tunnel, I let a few tears of frustration out, wishing so badly my body would just work the way I knew it could. But I pulled myself together and refocused on my goal to finish.
And guess what. Despite all the pain, all the frustration, all the unforeseen circumstances—I did finish. I crossed the line in 9.5 hours. This wasn’t close to my original target time, of course, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that I had completed my goal. And I felt a resounding sense of pride and exhilaration in following through, fighting the odds, and conquering what was by far the most challenging fitness event for both my body and my mind.
After reading my narrative, some of you might be still asking yourselves: “Why, Clanci, why?! Why the events? Why the training? Why the pain?” Well, for some, these things provide a way to stay fit and reduce weight; for others, they provide an effective stress relief; and for others still, they are simply highly enjoyable activities. For me, it is all of the above. I love fitness. It feeds my body, my mind and my soul. It is a part of my lifestyle, a part of who I am. I am a single mother, a high-school teacher, and a fitness instructor. I cherish each part of my life and I love what I do. My three teenage kids are wonderful and push me to be the best I can be. And it is always my goal to encourage them, my students, and members in my fitness classes to be all that they can be.
That said, there are always those days when I feel overwhelmed with life; when I feel spent; when I feel that I have nothing left to give. But strange as this might sound to some, those are the days when fitness means even more to me. It energizes me. It gives me my life back. Taking care of my body and pushing it to new limits enables me to give more to others. I always joke that “working out” is my therapy, but in many ways it truly is.
My motivations to stay fit, to compete, to keep pushing myself in new directions—these all come almost entirely from within myself. And to house these motivations I have established a very firm (some might call it stubborn) mindset. A mindset that relentlessly pushes me toward achieving my goals. I believe others have to find that motivation, that mindset within themselves as well. Motivation is not something that can be given; it is something that must be found. You have to make a promise to yourself, recognize the responsibility of your commitment, and then set your determination to make a lifestyle that will help you follow through and never give in. Believing in your ability to achieve and your ability to exceed your fitness goals will help you remain focused and strong even during your weakest moments. It is not about what you cannot do, it is about what you choose not to do. Tommy Lasorda, former coach of the L.A. Dodgers, once said, “The difference between the impossible and the possible lies in a man’s determination.” I couldn’t agree more…except, of course, I would add “man or woman’s determination”!
So get determined, set your goals, strive for these goals, and be all that you can be. It’s all about you!
“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.”
— T.S. Eliot
Article by Clanci, Soma Client
Posted by on October 14, 2009 at 9:27 am | Fitness, Hiking, Life is Fitness, Outdoors, Santa Barbara and tagged Fitness, SOMA GET FIT, Trail Running
