Hagg no mud.

Pinch me. That’s how it felt. Friday was an emotionally rough day for me, when little things and not very little things rolled in, and while neither one of them was the end of the world, together they put me into a pit of low self-confidence and self-esteem, like I am incompetent in anything I aim to do. By 3pm the realization that I am, indeed, taking an early start at a 50k tomorrow, settled in – and the tears rolled non-stop for the next few hours. Will I even be able to get under cut offs??? Seriously, I had great doubts…

The morning came, and I got in for my 7am start. One thing for sure – you get best parking. Ronda and Stacey kind of laughed, kind of yelled at me for signing up for a handicap, what didn’t help with my “wonderful” mood at all. But we lined up and took off on the road hill…


Have I mentioned it was a beautiful, beautiful day ahead of us? Portland got blessed with weeks of dry weather, so trails were in perfect conditions, and the temperatures were dry, and the sun came out…paradise. Every year I dread coming out to Hagg lake 50k, and every year I am so grateful I did. This year was my 5th, my last, my buckle year. I wanted to enjoy every step of it…


And enjoy I did. There is a reason I write reports as soon as I get home, as later on the exhilaration levels off, but I had lots of stuff on my plate that weekend, so this will have to do. All the words I “lived through” as I ran – slowly dissipated. But the views were gorgeous, as never before – or it felt this way. I managed to “lead” (ha!) the race for about 4 miles, then got caught by Sharon and Eb. At first AS Sid gave me a biggest hug – part from him, and more from Gail. I promised that I am taking my time and not in a hurry, and spend a couple-few minutes there, acknowledging that my split is same as last year.

I tried to slow down, as I was concerned I wouldn’t be able to hold this pace for the whole 31M, and played with my camera some more, wondering when the leaders would start passing me, and hoping not before the AS#2. They didn’t. And that stretch I ran in the same split again. Bewildered, I stopped and chatted with Liz and Kamm, the perennial helpers here, awesome gals, and took off for the last section of lake loop.

Fast dudes finally began to come by. First one was unknown to me (WTH?), but then Rod Bien floated by so quick, I didn’t get a chance to snap a picture. Then it was Sean Meissner in a hilarious outfit for Richard Simpson, wig and all, and he slowed down enough for me to “click”. Then some more guys…and that section, yet again, was accomplished in my “usual” time for it. I was stunned. And still scared I am doing something wrong and shouldn’t, so I stood at AS, yet again, for 3 minutes.

But the second loop was the same. Girls Krissy and Devon passed me here, and some more guys, most exchanging few words of chat (hey, is my butt so distinguishing that I am recognized from far behind?).

By the time Sid’s AS came in, I was still on same pace chart, sans the time I spend at aid stations themselves. I finally caught with Eb (I passed Sharon some time ago) who mentioned we shouldn’t break 6hrs as we won’t be credited with it anyway (penalty for an early start), and decided my 2 new goals will be as follows: number 1 – keep Eb behind (nothing personal, dear); number 2 – break my worst time at Hagg of 6:24. Actually, by mid-loop, despite feeling the pain in the legs beginning to build up, the second goal was in a hat, but Eb kept plugging along right behind, making me work. Thanks!!!



Bushwhacker caught up here as well, yelling like crazy. Stopping at Liz and Kamm AS was short of emotional breakdown – my last time here. I cried. Liz cried. Kelly took pictures. I went for the last stretch…

And every time I’d take my headphones off, the tears would start rolling in, so I had to put my music back and keep focus. Amazingly, all this only added a couple of minutes to this split, and I ran in at 6:09 on the clock…far from my fastest here, but not my slowest either, and definitely much better than anticipated 7 hrs.

I got my 5 year buckle.

And then I started to cry again…

And then a girl Julie came by with warmest words, and crying continued…

And then I drove home, all fuzzy and happy. Life is good. No, it really is. Beautiful. Trust me on that. I know. As long as I have trails to run on and friends to run with. The rest will make sense later:)

More picture can be found here and there by Brian.

And on totally not-so-sobbing note, and since it seems to be a trend for all Drymax socks wearers, although at this particular point more of a testament of how dry our Hagg Mud Trails were that day, is a picture of my very white Drymax socks AFTER the race. As well as my feet inside those socks.
And not to discriminate anybody, but to bring home the important point, since I am so very very bad in promoting my dear sponsors – here it goes. I really do not write reviews, or cheerful notes, this blog is about my emotions, my life through the eyes of my running. But it doesn’t mean I am not grateful to all of those who support me by providing me with stuff to run IN. Usually, the way it works with me, if somebody asks me what I prefer - I respond. If you are my friend and even don't ask me - I tell you anyway (and likely give you my share to try). The rest of the world finds out from other runners:)

Drymax socks keeps my feet dry and comfy, and Bob is awesome. Nathan packs have been my number 1 carry-on day in and day out, race in and run out. SportSkirts are the cutest things to make you feel girlie yet to have a comfortable “ride” on trails. Moeben sleeves are THE thing to take with you everywhere. And without Dirty Girl Gaiters don’t even think about stepping on trails, dry, muddy or rocky doesn’t matter. You can find links to all of them on my side bar.

And last, but FAR from last – Wasatch Speed Goat Mountain Racing Team, those who, even though rounded up the best and most grounded folks, kept me in with my 6 months hiatus of recovery from injury and believed in me, providing encouragements. They are simple, but they are furiously fast. Scrape on!

My other home.

I was born in a medium size town 200 miles north of Moscow. I am guessing this should be my home place, although I only lived there for less than 2 years and don't remember there a thing. My sister, every time I visit Russia now, keeps saying she needs to take me there, and I have no desire...

After a couple of short stays (due to a nature of my father's job, who was a military pilot), from which I have 3 things to talk about: how I "climbed" the cars parked in front of our building, how I ran away from home to the forest and a platoon was set in search, and how my sister and I set an apartment on fire by putting a cashmere scarf on a spiral heater next to a Christmas tree, for what we were punished to the point we couldn't sit for a week - so, after that not so homey experiences we moved to Belarus, a former republic of Soviets to the west and bordering Poland. I lived there for 8 years, from 4 and half till 12 and half. This place was rich in war history - any war to Russia had to go through these parts, was it Napoleon or Hitler. I grew up on this history, often too close and personal - we still had mines in forests, and a forest was what made Belarus, well, Belarus. This was my playground. This was my home. You know how they say "I walked to school a mile in snow uphill each way"? I won't claim uphill either way, it's pretty flat out there, but it was a mile, and part of it was through the woods, once beyond the military settling borders. And I was the lucky one - near villagers had to go for 2 or 3, in the winter, yes, in the snow, no bus...
Belarus had become my home. It is beautiful as nothing here - different beautiful. Dark forests, the darkest you've ever seen, with pine trees, fir trees and what other trees I have no translation for.
And light forests, birch forests you’ll never see (may be if you in Canada, a bit, we even have a song about it).

I remember everything from this place. I am not a native Belorussian, but this is how I always viewed myself – and how I introduced myself. I loved it there. I never spoke the language freely, but I understood, and my accent was pretty heavily leaning on their side, what made for a lot of jokes at my expense later. Oh, how I didn’t want to move…

But such is life. My dad got transferred, and we ended up in Moscow. A capital, a biggest city in Soviet Union, and somewhere in top 5 largest in the world (I am not a statistician, but with 12 million people in 1995 I would guess it is). What a drastic difference! I hated everything about it. Big buildings, buses, metro, rushing people, not knowing names of all the neighbors, obnoxious attitude of those who were born and raised and had generations of Moscovites…even the school 5 minutes away. But I came around. No, I never felt home living in Moscow, but I found friendships that lasting still, places I liked to visit, good things about all the cultural wealth I was able to be exposed to, universities I could attend…I guess it was my second home, or a step-home, if you will?

Life never stagnates, and 11.5 years sped by, so did my youth. The next big step was scary like never before – I was not only to move to another city, I was to move to another country. Oh, man, that was petrifying! I don’t have much to say about New York City, you know, but 11 years are a long time, and you get used to things. And, besides, what are we talking about here? There are still people who live in NYC, and they are great! So I got another home. I might have never thought it that way while living there, but as I visited about a year and half ago, after initial shock (OMG, people, crowds, noise!!!) it was warm and fuzzy. Yes, NYC felt warm and fuzzy. This happens too…

Moving to Portland, OR, was never a burden. I chose between New Jersey and Oregon rather easily. It was still a move, across the country, but it never felt strained. And it felt home. For the first time since my Belarus days Portland felt home. Right away. The feeling grew only stronger as I was introduced to local trails, local mountains, local ultras, and the Gorge…My best friends since my pre-teen days, since my Belarus days, I met here. That overwhelming warmth when you’re flying over Mt. Hood, coming back from anywhere else, I’ve written many times about – here. I may still get lost on the streets of Portland, but I can always say: welcome home…

I went to spend a weekend to Austin, TX, with Larry. There is no secret my travels to the south of this country are frequent. There is no secret of the reason behind either. So, past weekend Larry was to run his first marathon. While he’s done 50k’s, 50M races and even a solid 100 miler, this was his first venture to the world of road marathoning. Yep, things happen in weirder ways than that…

The weather was great, although I kept saying I expected it to be warmer. We ran – well, duh, we are both runners, right? We ran on Friday night, and I managed to get lost on the local streets – and had a grand time at that. On Saturday, since Larry shouldn’t have been running before a race, he hooked me up with a local trail group training for Jemez 50 and lead by Rob’t Heynen. The distances were varied, and I was looking at the longer version. Have you ever run in Austin? It’s hilly. Hilly like hell, what keeps surprising me every time I come. It’s different hilly, not long continuous ups and downs like Forest Park or even Tryon (where the shortest climb is 0.25M), not to mention 3-4M climbs in the Gorge. Austin hills are sharp and short, and seem to come out of nowhere. You can never get in a rhythm and be prepared of what is that you’re about to do. You can not relax on those short flat stretches either! Rocks, rocks and roots and more rocks. You get thrown around so much, it takes good 30-40 minutes to begin feeling smooth. But it surely can prepare you for places like Massanutten 100 or Zane Grey 50! I manage to catch myself from falling every time – but one of those times I did it with a help with a finger, stubbing it into a shrub (that is called trees out there). I was pretty sure I broke it, seeing how fast it swelled up and hurt and throbbed like hell. But hours passed, and it felt better. I managed to get lost, of course, too, what never fazes me anymore – I do it so often, it surprises me if I don’t. I had a blast of a time. I was very thankful to meet so many great folks!

We went to a marathon expo that afternoon after the run, and Larry got really freaked about how many people are there, how huge it is, with vendors, noises and crowds. Kind of like Moscow felt to me after Belarus. We quickly picked the bib number, grabbed the pace chart and got out (on the way realizing it was a Valentine day – neither one of us is into that, thankfully). The rest of the day was quiet and homey, if you don’t count Larry getting nervous about the marathon…

I won’t spoil his marathon story, which, actually, he didn’t talk much about either .


He ran with a bottle, which I was supposed to switch at certain points. Being much slower, even if I take cut off’s, and not knowing the city streets, were not much helpful in this idea, but our friend Moogy came to the rescue, and we drove around like crazy, visiting at 3 more points and making it to the finish line in time to see Larry finish in 3:06. Good run, indeed…We also hung out at each of those points with local friends of Larry and Moogy, and it was great to meet them.

And in the evening – there was a birthday of one of the local running club member, John, and his wife made a surprise party. I’ve never been to one of those before, and boy, the expression on John’s face was priceless!!! I knew most of the attending friends, and those few I didn’t – well, here was my chance to say hello. It felt good. It felt home…

Did I just say that? Oh, my, I just said it out loud, didn’t I? Austin feels home…we went for a short trail run on Sunday afternoon, and as I reached the peak of the climb and looked around – I saw vast green hills. It was beautiful. Different beautiful than Forest Park, different beautiful than Gorge, but still. I inhaled it deeply…I thought of all the people I met here, whether for the first time or another time since some race…and I didn’t feel alienated. That was good. That was far from what it felt when I first came here. That was calm and peaceful…

What is home? Home is where your heart is. And just as you can have a parent and a step parent, a sibling and a step sibling – you can have a home, and a step home…or few. I know I have quite a number:-)

Life IS beautiful, you just look the right way:)

Sometime before Hardrock lottery I resolved to do my best to seek the opportunity to view life as a best gift to a Universe. Not that I usually don't - I am pretty optimistic in nature, otherwise I don't think I would have survived through whatever is that I had to, but...Things rolled from there on...

I got accepted to run my dream run in San Juan mountains. Unbelievable. I am still totally high on this. It was one of the best unexpected presents that ever fell on my head out of nowhere, when I was ready the least. At least my training acquired focus, and it turned out, despite almost half a year of doing close to nothing (by my own standards anyway) I am not in as bad of a shape as I thought I am. Sometimes all we need is a kick in a butt:)

I pulled my guts in check and dropped out of Kinesiology class - why pay and spend so much precious time I don't have when the class is totally something I can take a Challenge test on? Well, now I need to study for this very test, but it ain't bad, and I am liberated by my decision.

I had a "talk" with my boss, literally telling him I am so unhappy I am about to go. At first he said "well, look for another job", and then he kind of stepped back, and we found some middle ground, and I am kind of hanging in there for a little longer. Not so bad it all is, really, just totally lost desire, and I don't like to work under these conditions.

Stephen is just awesome. I keep looking back at where Alex was at this age, and it's so freaking different, like day and night. His grades improved (just got second quarter report), his interest in sports is high, his dreams are absolutely wonderful, and it's nice to talk to my kid - something I didn't do much with my first one. I am one happy mama.

We got official permits for Oregon 100M race! Yeah! Thrilled, so thrilled to work on this race, the idea of which I nursed for exactly 2 years now (I remember how at Hagg Lake trail work, in February 2007, I mentioned it to those I was cutting the brush with - and received immediate support. It took me another 9 months to dwell on it longer, and then get Bushwhacker on board - and things went with normal speed. If we weren't late with applying for permit a year ago, we could have put it last year, but , oh, well, 2009 it is). It's going to be great.

And then we had this little run in Pier Park this Saturday. I was apprehensive, honestly, when Mike decided to put it on in addition to our PCT 50 and PCT 100. I mean, I am a mountain runner, and 1M loop within city limits didn't inspire me one bit. Stupid. I accept responsibility of being completely stupid. Why? What's wrong with loop, city and mo high drops? It's the people!!! Idiot. So glad he didn't let me back away. To add to it, when I finally visited park to check out the course, it turned out to be a gem! A nice very rolling-hilly loop, 2/3 of it on dirt, and all in tall old fir trees. Wow! Like it's not city at all. So we did it. Caroline was the best! Without her help it wouldn't have gone that smoothly, not to mention without her selfless standing at the loop check all 6 hrs Mike and I wouldn't have been able to put 10 miles each. We had 26 runners, so nice for the first time and short notice! Family...you heard it from me a thousand time. We are all family. So nice to see you, guys. Such high spirit, smiles, hard work. Geoffrey D. was chicked for the first time in his life - by a girl from Salem Pam. For the whole time, while cheering her on, we wondered where she got here from and why we don't know her. Well, she is new, but boy, she is fast! Got 42M in 6 hrs and won overall. Geoffrey was in great spirit, despite my fun-making (with love, of course). Thank you, runners, for coming. Thank you, Caroline, for working the AS and timing table. Thank you, Michelle, for cooking awesome soup for the finish line. It went great - and the sun broke out mid-day to lighten the mood even more!





I went for a little jog, and ended up with 10 miles, 3 of which I did as a timed tempo. I am pretty happy with how it went. No, scratch this - very happy. Because it's not where I was years ago I am comparing to, but where I am now. And an improvement is obvious. I even got out to Forest Park this morning, stiff and sleepless, and didn't bail of my initial plan of doing 21 miles. In a process I realized I am going to end up with 80 miles for the week - a big jump, but a big jump in confidence as well. Wow! And the time was good. Gives me lots of promises. I'll be back. I have to. I got this lil' hike to do in the middle of July:)

Larry had an awesome time at Rocky Raccoon races. He took his son to hang out, help out - ended up doing a bunch of things, from timing at the blind turn-around, to glow-stick marking, to working AS, and (!) - to pacing Andy JW to his win at 100M distance! Wow! So proud. Not only at the fact that his pacing helped Andy to keep Scott (the second guy) away, but for jumping at the opportunity to do such thing. Wish I was there to see it. Love it. Just love everything that surrounds ultrarunning events. Glad we both share it so closely.

My very good friend Rick paced my other good friend Tony to sub-24 there as well. And many others did an awesome job at RR in Texas. Congratulations to all. Seek the opportunities, don't let them seize. So proud. So happy for all.

One thing kind of got off "happy path". Stephen went to Tacoma, WA for a boxing tournament. He trained hard last 2 months, haven't missed a class (what he is known for), even ran on his own to pick up endurance (! - he is not running all that much), and - AND - got a hair cut! That was a huge sacrifice! And - while there, officials couldn't find him a match to box with (you know, it's not that simple, kids need to match in weight, age and experience at the same time). He is bummed. But having a good time hanging out anyway.

What else? Lots of little things. And not so little. But really, I am so smiling. Tired, achy - and smiling. Life IS beautiful. We just have to look in the right direction:)

Life Is Beautiful

You can’t quit until you try
You can’t live until you die
You can’t learn to tell the truth
Until you learn to lie

You can’t breathe until you choke
You gotta laugh when you’re the joke
There’s nothing like a funeral to make you feel alive

Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?

I know some things that you don’t
I’ve done things that you won’t
There’s nothing like a trail of blood
to find your way back home

I was waiting for my hearse
What came next was so much worse
It took a funeral to make me feel alive

Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?

I AM IN!!!

I am psyched. I am sickening psyched. I got into Hardrock 100!!! No wait list, no surprises, I AM IN!!! Runners and hopefuls are HERE. I screamed, shaking. It was like some 5 years ago, when I saw my name on WS100 list, I, a total newbie with a few 50k under my belt and a road 50 miler...holly cow, what did I get myself into???

But I am in. It's time to step up and forward. Very timely. I finished my second week of 60 miles (and that despite being sick for 3 days), I ran a 20 miler in Forest Park and 11M loop on icy snowy blow-down covered Gorge trails. I felt great both days. It is coming back. Not speed, not spring in my step. Simply endurance - and joy.

I am coming back...and these will keep me honest.