Ecstasy and Everest

Last night, as I sat down to dinner with "Coach" Nash, I caught a glimpse of the couple seated behind him. Smiles were plastered to their faces as they laughed, talked and drank.  Seeing their faces brought a smile to mine.

"Ahh," I exclaimed.

Nash gave me a funny look. We were talking about the North Carolina vs Indiana game. What would cause me to get so excited? (Not that basketball isn't exciting.)

"Nash, I know the couple behind you! It's my friends Wes and Laura!"

"Well, go say hi," he demanded. "It's fine. I know what it's like to see your friends. Go."

"Oh no, no. I'll say hi later." I looked down on my phone and had a text from Wes asking if I was the girl sitting across from him. "Okay, I'll be right back!"

I literally leaped the 4 feet between my table and theirs. "Hi, hi, hi!!! Oh my goodness! You're back from Texas and I'm finally seeing you! This is so great!"

To make a long story short, after dinner with Nash, I went to Wes' friends house for a birthday port with the lovely couple. Many subjects were discussed, but one that stood out to me was the topic of ecstasy and how the drug creates a deep depression in those who choose to keep its company.

"I don't get why people keep doing it if it makes them so depressed," I inputted.

"Because when they are doing it, they are SO happy. When it wears off, they want that happiness again. It's addicting," explained Laura.

Ohhhh... a mountaintop high. The peak of extreme happiness. Society judges those with alcohol and drug addictions. We claim not to understand what they are going through. I come from a family with a history of addiction. I won't divulge, but I can tell you my mom had an addiction to coffee, my father to being a wonderful man and my sister used to be totally addicted to cheetah print and butterflies. Cute, Ash. Those aren't real addictions. Okay, maybe not. Well, the coffee one totally was. That's not my point. So what is your point, Shlee?

I have my own addictions. One of those addictions is to being active. I can't say that I am the best at any sport, that's why I like doing gnarly things that impress other people, like running for 7 hours straight then going straight into work. That may also be the reason that less than 48 hours after my race, I met up with Mike for an 8-mile trail run. It was really pretty easy. And the weather was unbeatable. We started before the sun broke through the darkness but ended surrounded by a brilliant morning light. I love to trail run. There is nothing about it I don't love. I refuse to run with music because it takes away from the experience of running. Running is an experience. It's not a chore. It's not a workout. It's a grand adventure to love and live and cherish. I cherish running, especially when that running is on trails. I burned almost 1,000 calories, then went to teach three cycle classes in a row... finishing with a total burn of 2400 calories for Tuesday. Not too bad.

Music I listen to on my way to run, not during.

Yay for getting back to running!

Today was another day of only two cycle classes, a workout with Austin and Pure Awesomeness. I was supposed to run 5 easy miles today. When I woke up at 4:30AM, the sky was perfect. People had said it was going to rain, but when I left the gym at 7AM and it was still clear, I thought there was no way it would rain. So when Joe texted me and said I could leave the store at 3:30 today instead of 6PM due to the rain, I was quite confused (though very grateful). There is no way it will rain, I thought. I thought wrong.

Two hours later, the clouds turned gray and a cool mist flew through the cool November air. Hmmm shorts probably weren't the best choice... Work was busy and I was excited to get off and run in the rain, but by the time Nash returned to take my place, the mist had turned into a forest of liquid falling from the clouds. I will buy some groceries, have lunch, watch Unbreakable then go on a run. Perfect rainy day, right?

As I turned on my computer to watch the film, Joshua Skyped me. YAY! It was so great just to talk and see his apartment in Australia and hear about his backpacking trip. At one point, it hit me that I was actually seeing Josh's face after over 6 months and a huge grin spread across my wide face. "What are you doing," he asked. "Are you playing with the screen? Is that why you're laughing?"

"I'm not laughing," I lied.

"Yes, you are," he called my bluff. "What are you smiling about?"

Then it turned into this huge ordeal with me laughing uncontrollably and feeling like a dork... which he verified that I was. But I never admitted why I was smiling... until now, that is. When you get to talk to the person who knows you best, there is no way not to smile. Even when we facebook, I smile. It's the same when I get a text from Tucker, a call from Sophie, a random request from Dana or a hug from Nani. There is no way not to smile when these things happen. Especially because when I talk to Josh, I talk about things I love, like training. And running hard. And being a bad A (is for Ashlee).

Sidetracked. Sorry.

So I finished my conversation with Josh and it was already dark out. So much for a run. But I had promised Austin I would be his partner in the challenge at work today, so I walked over to the gym and got my butt kicked hard. 800 calories burned in one hour? Not bad for a circuit class.

It was time to teach Pure Awesomeness, so I walked home and Yomi and I drove in the rain to the next gym. It was a great class. Lots of people, ACDC playing in the background, weight lifting, plyometrics... I might have broken a sweat... Eh.. might have.

So that is my addiction. My ecstasy. My Everest high. If I lost my ability to be active... gosh, I don't even know what I would do. Now I understand why people get addicted to being happy.

Here's a video of addiction gone wrong:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=MTn1v5TGK_w

If I didn't love being active, I never would have won first in my age group. So it's a good thing, right?

My Knotty Glutes and the Red Rock Endurance Race

Description

Red Rock 50 Mile Endurance run and Trail Marathon. This run is extremely difficult and is best suited for the expert trail runner or experienced ultra marathon runner. 

This is not a fancy event, it is a genuine, old fashion ultra run. It is a low key, hard ass, 50 mile endurance run.

-From the Red Rock sign-up page

At 3:30AM, the chirp of my phone's alarm broke the silence of my bedroom. I had two options: Get out of bed and prepare for my race or go back to bed and live to regret it. A small part of me wanted to pretend I didn't hear the annoying tune coming from my phone, but the desire to achieve greatness outweighed it. It was the morning of the Red Rock Endurance Trail Race and I was determined to finish strong.

Since I was housesitting, I had a lot to do before leaving the house. Finish laundry. Check. Feed the dogs. Check. Make the bed. Check. Eat breakfast and prepare my race pack. Check. It was going to be a good day. I could feel it in my bones. But my stomach disagreed. You know those television commercials with the female tennis player clad in all white. Mother Nature pops out of the bushes with her "present" for the girl. You all know what I'm talking about. That commercial was my life yesterday morning. Ugh. So my stomach was in knots due to that. Awesome.

I drove out to Paradise Road and arrived around 5AM. After driving around for 45 minutes, I could not find the race start. I desperately tried calling my friend Sabrina (who was also running with me), but the lack of service was not helping matters. Deciding to drive back up the road a little ways, I saw headlights coming my way. I flashed my brights at them and asked to follow them to the race start.

When I walked into the tiny room, Sabrina flashed me a sleepy smirk and said, "Glad you finally found it." Looking around the room, I felt like a complete rookie. Everyone was decked out in their Hokas, hydration packs and headlamps. They were all lean, mean running machines and you could sense the determination, excitement and vigor in the way they held themselves, legs slightly wider than hip width, hands on their hips, thumbs looped through the straps of their backpacks. It wasn't like the typical road races I've competed in where people are clean and keep to themselves. No, these folks sported beards, gators and their legs looked like Michelangelo had sculpted them with his chisel.

I grabbed my race bib from the race director (Louise Eschobar, yes, the one from the Born to Run series) and picked up my race tee and arm warmers. This race had been dubbed the "hardest trail race on the west coast" and with Louise as the course director, I wasn't surprised. He has quite a reputation of being a complete bad (other word for donkey). Louise stepped up on a bench and yelled out to get the attention of the 60 or so people in the room. "I'm going to tell you a little bit about how to run the Red Rock Endurance run," he began. "Then I am going to try to convince you not to run it." People chuckled. "This is one of the hardest courses you will ever do. The course is minimally marked. Do not pass over the white chalk. If you pass over the white chalk once, you are stupid. If you pass over it three times, you should be a triathlete." More laughs escaped the mouths of people in the room. Sabrina raised her eyebrows at me. "That's you," she said.

Louise continued, "Keep the pink ribbon and the ocean on your right until the turn around, then keep them on your left. There are 5 aid stations. This is a minimal aid race. Western States and this race are very similar. Western States has 2400 elevation gain. We have 2100. Western States has 30 aid stations. We have 5. Western States has 1400 volunteers. We have 14. So, we have a lot of similarities." He spoke about respecting the volunteers, the trails and other runners then he talked about how minimal the race would be and how we must be prepared. "At the end of your run, you must come back into this building, take a shot of whiskey and ring the cowbell. That will be your end time. Now, I know some of you don't drink, so instead, you will have the option of kissing Manly on the lips." I looked over at Manly... his name certainly suited him; he was a tall man with a thick strawberry blonde beard. "He isn't too bad looking," Sabrina later told me.

That was that. It was time to race. We drove out to San Ysidro and parked. Then, the race began. "We're crazy," Sabrina said right before Louise told us to go. She and I started strong for the first mile and a half. Unfortunately, the first 6 miles is straight uphill. After the mile and a half, we decided to walk a bit and mix in some running when we felt strong. Fortunately, most of the other runners had the same idea.

Two days prior to the race, I went to see a massage therapist, who is also a competitive runner. The moment she touched my left calf, she said, "Oh wow. You are tight. You shouldn't be running." Yeah, I didn't tell my parents she said this because if someone told me that and I chose to run, that would be stupid of me, right? I guess that's why I'm a triathlete... har har har. So I didn't run at all on Wednesday, Thursday, Friday or Saturday. It felt so good to run when we started, but once the climb got really steep, I was hurting. I huffed and puffed my way up the hill, reminding myself that it was a beautiful day to be outside. The ocean was stunning and a cloud had made its way across the harbor so it looked like an island. It was hard not to stop and just stare.

We cut across San Ysidro to Cold Springs and climbed up to East Camino Cielo. A woman in Hokas trotted along in front of us and we all struck up a conversation that lasted for 3 uphill miles. At 53 years of age, this woman was a three-time ironwoman, had finished multiple ultras and did century rides and marathons for training. She was a beast. She told Sabrina and me about the ballroom dancing competition she and her husband had competed in the evening prior. This woman was living an incredible life and her body proved it.

The three of us made it to the first aid station almost two hours into the run. Sabrina grabbed a handful of Pringles and a Mountain Dew. People had told me about how great a soda pop is during a long race, but I was scared to try. I tried to eat a pretzel, but even one made my stomach turn. I took a bite of a banana, filled my water bottle with the electrolyte drink Succeed and decided to try a little bit of Coke. Ohhhh.... bad idea. As we started running again, we were met by an incredible view of the Santa Ynez mountains and a nice steep downhill run. This is where I will get my time back, I thought. But the Coke proved to be a bad move. It sat right underneath my rib cage and every time I ran, darts of pain pushed through my ribs into my belly. Ow ow ow! Instead of trying to keep up with Sabrina's gazelle-like prance down the trail, I tried to just enjoy the scenery and take it easy until my stomach stopped cramping.

6.5 miles in

The view was incredible. It was worth doing this run every weekend just to see the sites. So pretty! We crossed the creek and climbed more hills. I had a really difficult time trying to stomach anything other than water and electrolytes. Looking at my heart rate monitor, I saw I had burned 2500 calories already and knew I needed to replace some of those calories. I ate half of a Honey Stinger Apple Cinnamon bar and kept running. Some parts of the trail were chilly and covered with shade and trees. The fall leaves blanketed the path as we picked up our pace. Other parts of the trail were a vertical climb in the hot sun. Eighty degrees worth of sunshine beamed down on our faces as we pushed through the pain.

10 miles in

By the second aid station, we were pretty tired. Again, I could not stomach food, so I made the error of drinking ginger ale for the calories and because I thought it would settle my stomach instead of upsetting it like the Coke had. A man put ice in my hydration pack as I swallowed two S-caps. Then Sabrina and I embarked on our next 11 miles. As soon as we started running, I had to stop and walk. My hamstring, quad, IT band and psoas all cramped up and created a huge knot in my left glute. I tried to stretch it out, but nothing helped. Then the ginger ale did the same thing to my ribs as the Coke had. I pinched in the soft area under my ribs and doubled my upper body over while continuing to run, hoping that would help slightly. Why did I always have to cramp on the downhill where I was supposed to be strong?

Sabrina's calves began to cramp up as we hit the top of the hill. Suddenly, she stumbled, caught herself, then fell. Picking herself back up, we kept going. It was flat. We should have gained speed, but my knot was growing tighter and tighter. I got down on the ground and went into pigeon stretch. I could barely get down on the ground and I yelled out in pain. The next mile and a half was downhill, so we chit-chatted the entire way down about a wedding Sabrina had attended recently where Emma Stone was the officiary. We also talked about the shot at the end of the race. I thought it sounded disgusting, but Sabrina was excited for it.

When we hit Red Rock, I knew we only had ten or so miles to go, but my leg would not allow me to run. As soon as I could, I returned to a shuffle and ran until Sabrina wanted to stop and chew on an energy bar. At the first aid station, a man had told us that the last hill was worse than the first. I didn't believe him, but I should have listened. It was the heat of the day when Sabrina and I began the climb up the final hill. We got a quarter of a mile in when Nash came blazing down the trail, shirt off, hair running wild, nothing but a water bottle in his hand. "Hey you," I said. "You're looking good. There is a woman half a mile in front of you. You can catch her," he urged. "Okay. Hang on," I replied. I knew Sabrina was not keen on pushing the speed uphill and honestly, my glute was way too tight to try to shuffle my feet any faster. As soon as I had some power, I worked on getting my hips forward and striding up the hill. I got to a break in the climb and could see the woman in front of us. It would be easy to catch her. I waited for Sabrina then we took off to catch up.

Depleted

At that point, I knew the rest of the climb would be difficult, but I didn't realize how bad it would be. I began feeling incredibly nauseous and lightheaded. I had to stop at one point and put my hands on my knees to stop from falling over. I started doubting myself. There is no way I can do this. I kept yelping out in pain as I tried to push up the canyon. Every time I tried to stop, Nash would put his hand on my lower back and say, "Oh no, you don't." I cussed, which I never do unless I'm in utter pain. "I'm sorry," I told him.

That's when Sabrina took off. Somehow she got a rush of energy and she charged up the rest of the hill and down the fire road. The fire road... That was supposed to be where things got easy, but every time Nash told me to run, it just made me want to walk even more. Finally I told myself that I just needed to focus on one section at a time, not the entire thing. That worked well until Nash pointed out the RVs where the finish line was and I realized how far we still were. It did not help that my watch was telling me we still had five miles to go. I know that's nothing, but when you've already been running for six hours, five more miles is a lot.

When we got to the bottom of the hill, I saw Sabrina waiting for me. What a great friend! We pushed toward the finish line, sometimes jogging up the hill, other times we walked. Whichever we did, it hurt. Nash kept pushing us on. Part of me was really glad he was there, but another part of me wished he didn't have to see me sucking it up. I had no desire to go on at some points and I felt badly that he had to see me complain.

That's when I saw it: The hut. Inside, there was a man with a scraggly beard named Manly who was waiting for me to take a shot of whiskey and ring the cowbell. Okay, Manly... if you insist. Sabrina and I trotted in slowly (though it felt fast at the moment), took a shot, rang the bell and got our final time: 6 hours and 54 minutes.

Finishing with a shot of whiskey

"Okay, time for burgers," she said. I had told her I would eat a burger with her after the race. Nash made us stretch, we talked to Louise for a little while, drank some Endurox Recovery and took photos. After that, we climbed in Sweet Baby Sam and drove up to the store for some greasy food. It tasted so good but it was so heavy. I felt like I was forcing it down my throat, but my body needed the calories desperately.

Our finishers medals

When I got home, I discovered that my sub for class didn't know he was teaching, so I went into work and taught then Patrick came over and we watched Moonrise Kingdom. I was proud of myself. I made it all the way to the last 15 minutes of the film before I passed out with my cozy blanket tucked around my shivering body.

This morning, I woke up at 4:45 and taught an hour of cycle followed by Pilates. I feel great! No soreness, but I am going through heat strokes followed by the chills. I can't figure out if my body is hot or cold.

Towards the end of the race, I thought, This is it. I never want to do this again. But what did I do when I  got home? Looked up which race I wanted to do next... So... suggestions? My thoughts are the Avalon 100-miler, a Valentines Day 10K (which I am doing for sure) and Memphis in May. If you know better ones, let me know!

Thank you to everyone who supported me! To my class participants who wished me luck the whole week prior, to Kelly who worked out the knots in my legs, to my family who thinks I'm crazy but knows not to question my insanity, to my Wyoming friends who sent me texts cheering me on (thanks Tucker, Nani and Grylls!), to Sophia who checked in on me post-race, to Tyler, Doug, Patrick and Matt who came with me on my long training days, to Ben who took me up to Montecito Peak because without that hike I would have never known what to expect on the first 4 miles, to Nash who came out on his day off and pushed me when I thought I had nothing left. Most of all, thank you, Sabrina, for signing up with me, committing to the race and sticking with me throughout. I enjoyed all seven of the hours (plus some) that we got to spend running, walking, talking, panting and being bad (other word for butts). Love you all!

Three Days of Rain

I live in a land of eternal sunshine, so when a day of rain hits my life, I take full advantage of it.

Last weekend, I was able to enjoy three days of rain.

It started Friday night... or Saturday morning, I should say. At 2AM, I was still wide awake texting with a friend. We decided since we were still awake, we might as well meet up at the beach and walk in the rain. It was a beautiful evening. The lights from LA shone through the night as a cool mist poured down on us.

Saturday was just a typical work day in the rain, but ended with a night of sushi and a drive-in movie.

Sunday was the day of fun. Sabrina and I met up early in the morning and hit the trails for a quick trail run before work. The rain had left the trails muddy and slick, but the brisk air kept us strong and alive. My tight hamstring didn't act up until my foot stuck on a rock and I fell down to the ground, twisting my ankle and cutting up my knee... again.

Like a boss, I got up, didn't even look at my knee and just kept running down the muddy trail.

That afternoon, I decided to run up Old San Marcos. I've done it before, but ran 8 minutes, walked 2 minutes, so it took an hour plus some. This time, I felt a lot stronger. I ran all the way to the top without walking. I even became friends with a cyclist who I kept challenging all the way up the road. It took 41:00 flat to touch the stop sign at the top. Next time, I want to get it down to 37:00.

My cycle friend

Four days until my race!

A Good Cup of Coffee and A Warm Flannel

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens...

Really?

Those are your favorite things?

Well... whatever floats your boat.

Wanna know my favorite things?

No?

Well, stop reading then because here comes

THE GREATEST LIST EVER OF ASHLEE'S FAVORITE THINGS (at least for today):

1. Handlebar Coffee

Rain. Shine. Dinner time. No matter what the weather or the time of day, Kim and Aaron will fix you up right with the perfect cup of coffee. It was 11:30 on a Wednesday morning and I had a few hours to kill before my next job, so I do what I always do on Wednesday after cycle class: I walked to Handlebar. Now, let's get a couple of things straight: 1. I am single and I cannot find a good man in my town to date. 2. Handlebar is not that close to my work and I was carrying my laptop with me. 3. French Press just opened up a shop next to my work where all the attractive men in my town like to hang out. Okay, now that we have that all covered, I'll continue my story.

Please notice that the lovely Kim and Aaron are both wearing flannel, which plays into my second favorite thing!
Photo courtesy of google.com.

After teaching an intense cycle class, I changed into my cute jeans, my adorable yellow New Balance flats and a t-shirt. To make my point clear: I looked adorable. My hair was even braided on the side. I walked down the street and glanced over to The French Press as I passed. Never have I seen that many attractive men in one place at the same time. Well, I could just go there today. I wouldn't have to walk in the heat any further... No! I won't do it! My heart lies at Handlebar. So I continued my walk and set up shop at Handlebar. I only had two dollars in my purse, but I was longing for a cappuccino. Dag nabbit.

"Hey, Ashlee. How's it going today," Aaron greeted me as usual.

"It's going well. You cut your hair! It looks good," I complimented him.

"Oh, thanks. Do you want your usual today," he asked.

"Actually, I only have two dollars, so..."

"You can get anything you want. Don't worry about the money," he reassured me.

I didn't want to take advantage of his kindness though.

"Coffee is $2, right? I'll just get a drip."

"Are you sure," he asked. "You want room for soy though, right?"

Kim called over from the espresso machine, "How's your training going?"

Kim and Aaron make a point of knowing their customers. Not only do they know their drink orders, they also know about their history, their passions, what gets them out of bed every morning... I love that! They do an excellent job of becoming a part of people's lives.

I set up my stationary, ready to write Nani, Sophie and Kaylee letters. Looking at my cup of plain drip coffee, I couldn't help but wish it was a cappuccino. I sighed and took the mug to my lips... only to be greeted by the most amazingly heavenly smooth cup of joe I have ever tried. Oh, Kim and Aaron... you can do no wrong, can you?

Photo courtesy of www.foodgps.com

2. Fall weather and a cozy flannel

My town isn't known for its cold weather. In fact, very rarely does the temperature drop below 60 degrees. However, since Tuesday, it's been fairly chilly. Why is this chick talking about the weather? Because I am super stoked that it has been chilly! I hate COLD weather, but there is nothing I love more than the autumn chill in the air. It gives me an excuse to wear all those flannel shirts I own and scarves and boots and sweaters. I want to get married in the fall. I want fresh, colorful leaves trailing behind my white dress. I want a red flannel over my shoulders while I'm waiting to walk down the isle to my Mr. Wonderful. There is just something about the fall that makes me cheerful from my fingers to my toes. It must be all the pumpkin pie and chai tea (neither of which I have had this year... that's bizarre).

Okay, so the idea was not mine originally, but I adore it!
Photo courtesy of Ciara Richardson Photography

The colder weather is also better for running. Brisk air fills my lungs and somehow it feels fresher and lighter than the heat of a 90 degree day on the trails. I can wear a long-sleeve dry-wicking shirt with my running tights and I am perfectly content. Also, I don't feel like I need to find shade as often because the heat is not overwhelming. I could adventure all day long. Last Tuesday, I totally did that. I started my run at the base of Cold Springs, but decided to cut over to Tangerine Falls. The water was all dried up and I noticed a path I had never seen before. It cut down across the water bed and up through the hills. I followed it for 5 miles or more before the trail became overgrown and abandoned. I followed it some more. Up rocks, across the dried-up creek bed, under and over branches... it was so serene and peaceful. I didn't want to leave. I love the fall.

By the way, in case you didn't know, today is flannel day. "Every day is flannel day," was the response I got from two of my dearest friends, Nani and Tucker. Yeah, I know this, guys, but today is the day of flannel. Last Saturday, Josh and I were catching up and talking about my weird observations of absurd, made-up holidays when he reminded me of Thursdays and flannel days. It went something like this:

Ashlee: who do you think i am?

Josh: ashlee (last name omitted just in case of weirdos) inventor of odd holidays
in example flannel thursday

Ashlee:omg!!!! i totally forgot about flannel thursday!!!!
how did i forget about flannel thursday!?!??!????


Josh:dork


That was the best day ever. It was college, junior year. Rebecca and I were living in Brazil. No, not the real Brazil. Brazil in South America. No, not the real South America... oh, nevermind. Being Oregon girls, Rebecca and I decided to combine our love for being happy and wearing flannel and we created flannel day! If you were lucky enough to know me back then, you got to listen to my text tone with Rebecca saying "Flannel Day" in a really horribly nerdy voice. Loooove.


Okay, well, I will only bore you with two things because I know all y'all are busy. But there you go. Those are my favorite things today.

RICE, Saltines and a Hot Date

The lights from my headlamp and knuckle lights created odd silhouettes on the pavement as I ran down the dark street. I had been jogging for almost 3 hours. I say jogging because I didn't feel like I was pushing. My stride was strong as determination and drive seared through my Brooks Pure Cadence shoes. I had planned to start right after work at 7:15, but Amanda needed a ride home. Thirty minutes after my original goal starting time, I finally laced up my shoes, took in a Hammer Gel and pounded the cement.

Immediately, I began trying map my route in my mind. If I go through town, I'll run into homeless people. Tyler and I did that last week, but he was with me, so I felt safe... I could run out to Cosy's to go see Renee, but then I have to run through the sketchy part of town. I have my pepper spray, but I don't want to risk it... I could go north, but it is so poorly lit and a man was killed out there two years ago... Gosh... I guess I will just do my regular route... In Wyoming, we worry about bears and cougars. Here, we worry about homeless people and drunk college students. I had two cars full of college kids yell and swerve to try to scare me. Yeah, that's a good way to end up in jail, boys. I found myself wishing Grylls was still in town to keep me company.

My route involved a number of climbs. The hills feel easy now that I've been spending more time on the trails. And rock climbing has helped make me more aware of my surroundings. I definitely felt on edge in the darkness though. Every rustle in the nearby brush made me tense up and prepare for flight or fight. On my third climb of the evening, three hours into my run, I could feel a tender spot start to rise up in the back of my left leg. I slowed my pace, hoping that would ease the pain; unfortunately, less than 5 minutes later, I found myself walking the pain out. When I texted Mavel and my family to let them know my location, the throbbing got worse. It spread from my hamstring to my IT Band. Grrrrrr....

9:57 PM. I had 3 minutes to get to the gym before it closed. I was still over a mile and a half away. It wasn't going to happen. My water supply was out though and I was thirsty. Once again, I pulled out my phone, but this time I text Doug to ask if I could stop by and grab some water. When I arrived, he was full of life.

"Let's go," he said after chugging his protein shake.

"Let's go where," I asked.

"Running! I need to get my cardio in!" He hop stepped side-to-side as if he was about to take a kick-boxing class.

"You're going to run with me?" I was a bit surprised.

"Yeah, let's go!"

So we ran back to my house and finished my 19 miles. We talked politics. We talked friends. We talked about girls (his girls, of course). Doug is such a wonderful friend; he is always brimming over with energy. It was great to have someone there taking my mind off my pain (though, I could still feel the twinge throughout the run.

That night, I put my $200,000 education to use and rested, iced, compressed and elevated my leg while watching Hart of Dixie on my cell phone til one AM. The next morning, I taught cycle at 5:30AM, but I took it eas(ier) so I wouldn't aggravate the injury. I had woken up feeling ill- stuffy nose and no energy- so after cycle, I came home, cancelled my other classes for the day and slept until I had to go into the running store. I figured I would teach Pure Awesomeness after work, but when I walked into my house to grab dinner, my body was wasted. Lauren (bless her heart) agreed to sub, so I ate a package of Saltines, my wonderfully amazing housemate made me tea and I slept hard.

This morning, I woke up totally energized and ready to go! I taught cycle at 5:30AM and followed it with an easy trail run to test the leg (=my hot date with Running). There were a few hills that bugged it, but overall, I think I'm recovering nicely! This is the first time I've been willing to cancel classes due to illness (other than the time I had the stomach virus) and it totally paid off! Running and I had a wonderful date to make up for our "fight" on Tuesday night. Ahh... Running. He beats me up and I always come back. It's sad, really. But I know he loves me and I will never regret my time spent with him, even if it leaves me limping.

Big Butts and Big Setbacks

Warm sun shines into the brick room. Clean white walls, a freshly-cleaned gray floor, new blue mats lining the floors... it's time for Pilates. Seven women and one man have come to my Killer Pilates class this morning. We start with two minutes of burpees.

"Alright, spread your legs wider than hip-width, toes pointing forward and come into a wide squat. Nice and low. There you go," I instruct. "Keeping the knees behind the toes, let's pulse up and down for three minutes."

Not even halfway into the three minutes, I hear a familiar voice call out, "I'd recognize that butt anywhere. Hi Ashlee!" Wow... thanks, Vida. I laughed so hard that my quads started hurting way too early. I had to come out of the squat. So much for being a good Pilates model.

For my twenty-fifth (yes, the big two-five) birthday, Grylls came out to visit. He got here the Thursday before my birthday. It was so great to see my Grylls again! The next morning, I walked into cycle class to find a balloon and a card from Lauren wishing me a wonderful birthday. The day went really well. Sean took me out for lunch, Tyler and I walked on the beach because no one showed up for cycle at the Buddha, my Pilates class told me how much they hated/loved how hard my class is and Lynn came into one of my evening classes, which always cheers me up.

After work, Grylls and I drove down to Weston's house in Orange County and rested up for the Color Run. Weston could not have gotten me a more ideal gift. A can of organic pumpkin and a paid entrance fee to a fun race. It was not a timed race, so Ashley came and participated with us. By the end of the 5k, we were COVERED like a chalkboard that had been attacked by Jackson Pollock. We had to show off our colors, so we wore them to a restaurant Weston recommended for breakfast.

That evening, Ashley, Tyler and I drove to Malibu to eat fish tacos and go camping with Dale. We found a random running trail on the top of a large hill (well, we stumbled upon it after getting completely lost) and camped overnight under the stars. It was a great time. The ultra race was going to come through the next morning and they were all set up. We were worried we would get kicked out, but everything worked out for the best. We woke up early the next day, got breakfast, then got completely lost at the Malibu State Park. Sean met us for some rock climbing on the Planet of the Apes Wall, which was a kick-butt gnarly climb that none of us were able to complete. It was totally worth it though.

The entire time Tyler was here, we got to do a lot of rock climbing and hiking. I got to climb 6 times in 8 days! And he taught me how to lead climb and clean gear! It was a great time.

My workouts started taking a toll though. The last good run I remember was two weeks ago on a Tuesday night.

"I have to run tonight after work," I told Grylls.

"I'll come with you," he responded.

I gave him a skeptical glance. "You don't have to."

"I want to."

"Are you sure," I asked. It was his last chance to back out.

"Yeah, why not?"

So we ran. After 5 miles, he asked me how far we were running. I guess I never learned how to front load someone when I was in Wyoming. "Oh, we are running a half marathon."

"Oh," he said. That is one brave soul. He stayed with it though. But that was the last run he did with me.

We also went on a long hike the following Sunday. Patrick joined us. It was supposed to be four hours, but the weather was hot and Patrick hadn't brought much water, so we went back to the car after 3 hours.

That was a great hike, even though I fell and scraped my knee. Ever since the knee scraping though, I have been lacking. Usually I average 300 watts in a cycle class. Last Friday, 200 was my max. I was struggling to hold that. My heart rate would only go up to 100, but I was completely exhausted. Later that day, I decided to do some track work in the middle of the day. Again, I plodded along, feeling like I was going my max, but the old man walking with a cane seemed to be lapping me (okay, not really, but you get my point).

Halfway through my workout, Rusty came by to set up for the marathon.

"Hey, Ash," he called. I probably turned three shades of red knowing that he was watching me struggle through my sprints. Inside, I hoped he thought I was just working on a long, slow run. I passed a group of male college athletes. I overheard one of them say, "She looks like she should be fast. She has great form." Well, at least I look like I know what I'm doing. Stupid legs... move! I just felt heavy and tired and unable to perform. Thank goodness I'm not competing this weekend.

Shaking off the poor track workout, I decided to go for a 4 hour trail run last Sunday in between jobs. No one wanted to join me (I think they've all learned), so I did 14 miles alone. An hour into my run, I realized my water supply was bad. Eff. It was 90 degrees outside, I was running in the heat of the day and the only shade I could find covered my feet and nothing else. There were a few points where I thought I might pass out, but I encouraged myself with the verse about pressing on towards the prize. It worked!

My body is still tired though. I wonder if it's my big butt that's dragging me down...

So I'm just going to lay it all down on the line right now. Two weeks ago, one of my bosses sent out a survey asking the members at the gym what they thought of the trainers. My reviews were wonderful: "Great motivator!" "Awesome ab workout!" "Knows my levels and pushes me to do better every time." There were a couple of not so great ones: "Very 80's workout style- don't like the countdown from 5." Then there was the one that flashed across my brain all week long: "Ashlee does not look fit so I am not motivated to workout when I am in her class." Ouch.

Let's be honest; I cried, I ate cookies (vegan cookies, of course), I talked to my friends, I looked at myself in the mirror and wondered what I could do to get skinny. I struggled with that comment A LOT. I'm still struggling with that comment. Never in my life have I felt skinny. Even when I had a six-pack. There was always someone somewhere who would tell me I wasn't good enough. So when I told Nash and he said it wasn't true, that was a relief. But it didn't help when he decided to tease me all day and make fat jokes. It also didn't help when I told Tyler about Nash teasing me and he thought it was okay to do the same. So when I fell on our hike and he said it was because I was carrying too much weight down the trail, I was heart broken.

Now I am starting to wonder if that is why my pace has gotten slower. I find that I am always craving some sort of food. My cat meows for food all day long. No joke. It's ridiculous. She still has crumbs in her mouth and she begs for more. I call her fat and tell her to learn some self-control. Then I wonder if I should be telling myself the same thing. Shoot. What is this? Sometimes I just wonder if I will always play the fat game. Will I ever not worry about my pants being snug? Sorry, I guess I'm just ranting at the moment. My weight will always be a struggle for me, but I hope it doesn't take over my every thought like it has been the past two weeks.

It helps that I have a good following. I don't think men in their 20's and 30's would come to my Pure Awesomeness class if I wasn't in shape. I also don't think people would come to my Pilates and cycle classes if they weren't being challenged.

Everyone has a struggle, right? Just keep on keeping on.

Pictures to come...