Here we go again

Is it time already? To figure out what races I will run next year? I am getting emails that this or that race is 75% full or the price will increase in one week or registration will open in a couple days. I can't think that far ahead.

But I will be trying for the Quad again this year. And I signed up for Bighorn again. Other than that? Who knows?

My best running buddy, Sadie, is doing great at 8 years of age. She's the one on the right. Scout is only 3, but she is not doing so well.

She has the heart of a trail running dog but the vertebral column of ... well, let's just say that there are some congenital abnormalities. I resigned myself to not having her to run with. I figured we could walk together or maybe even trot around for a few miles. But over the past couple of months, she has had more and more pain. We finally took her to the neurologist. She had a pretty extensive surgery to try to stabilize the lumbo-sacral region. While it would be absolutely wonderful if she could run again, it will be fantastic if she can walk.

End of the 2015 Racing Season

I finished off 2015 with a bang. Three big runs over three weeks. Whew!!

First was Mt. Taylor. This was my third time running it and definitely my slowest (and hardest). That mountain just chewed me up and spit me out. Not sure why. No big deal. I finished.

Here's a comparison of my new shirt with the shirt I wore to the race:

                        

Not much time to recover from that before it was time to load up our little trailer and head to the Grand Canyon. What a trip! Met up with Jen Goyette and stayed on the North Rim for a few days. We had challenged each other to do a Rim to Rim to Rim rike (rike = run + hike). We were at the North Kaibab trail head by 4:30 am. Surprised to see a table and canopy with a bunch of people with clip boards. Turns out some folks from UNM Emergency Medicine were conducting a study of Rim to Rim folks that weekend. We let them weigh us, take our pulse and pulse ox, and answered a few questions and then we were off.

We had plenty of food, plenty of water, headlights and batteries and enthusiasm. Watching the sun light up the canyon walls was amazing (Jen said lots of things were amazing).

Our biggest obstacle of the morning was at Cottonwood Campground. There are toilets there and we were more than ready for them. Alas, they were both occupied by men who seemed to be in distress. We heard lots of groaning and other disgusting noises coming from each toilet. Finally one of them opened up. The man who emerged seemed to be ok but the smell was horrible. We took turns in that one because the man in the other one still did not emerge.

Then we were off to Phantom Ranch. No intentions of stopping there, although we did check in with the researchers once again. We told them how much we drank and what we ate. They took our trash!! We stopped to say hi to the mules and were off again.

We hit the Colorado River in good spirits, ate a sandwich and headed up Bright Angel Trail. Totally beautiful. It wasn't hot, thank heavens!

We had a bit of rain at the top and then figured out how to take the shuttle buses over to South Kaibab Trail head. We also bought wonderful sandwiches. Mine had a little container of hummus, which I cleaned out with my very dirty fingers.

About two miles down South Kaibab trail, we came across a trio who were backpacking. Now, South Kaibab is a steep trail. It is about 7 miles long and ends at the river and Phantom Ranch. There is no water on the trail. The older man of this trio had dropped his pack and was sitting on a rock, covered in sweat. He asked us, "When does this trail level off?" OMG! He was in way over his head. I just pointed to where the trail got really steep and indicated that the river was "down there." Dude, it's the GRAND CANYON, not the grand plateau.

On down we went, still having fun but also realizing that we had miles to go before we would sleep. Jen kept me entertained pointing out different kinds of rocks.

I was more interested in what they looked like, than what they were. 

And of course, I was looking out for animals.

At Phantom Ranch, Jen pointed and said, "there's my shitter." I looked up to see the man who had been in the toilet at Cottonwood Campground. He hadn't made it far, but he looked much better than when we saw him in the morning.

We ran out of daylight when we were just starting back up North Kaibab. We pulled out the headlights again. The big excitement was having bats fly right up to my face. I could see them clearly in my light, but they never touched me.

We stopped to look at the stars and the Milky Way. Truly beautiful. We also saw that there was lightning in the distance, even though there were no clouds overhead. Time to move our butts up the trail. We did get wet and cold but made it back to the car before midnight.

Does it get any better?

Recovering from Devil Mountain with the Grandkids!!

Wow!! Devil Mountain 50 miler was mean! I couldn't decide whether I should do the 50K or the 50 miles so I figured I would wait until mile 23, aid station 4. Gecko, organizations of the race, are really  nice about it. If you signed up for the 50 miler and want to drop to the 50K at aid station 4, that is totally fine. You are eligible for awards and a finisher medal.

So, I made it to the aid station and still felt really good. I had been running back and forth with a woman in my age group for a while. She was going on; of course I would go on. Little did I know what would befall me at this same point on the way back (ominous music in the background).

The two of us continued for many miles together. Made it to the turn around and took a page from the book, to prove we had been there. Headed back, still talking and laughing. Continued to aid station 6 and knew we had a tough 8 mile stretch to our next stop, which had my drop bag with food, warm clothes, and lights. Eight miles but it was only 5 pm. Plenty of time to get there before dark. Plenty of time....

Where did all that time go? Seriously, how could it take that long to get to the aid station? It was getting dark, I was out of food, I was wet, and the aid station was missing. The woman running with me had a small flash light so she took off. No way could I stay with her, since I couldn't see the trail. Where is that aid station? I was finally convinced that we had by-passed it (later found out that we did indeed by-pass it....the trail to the aid station was like an exit ramp and we stayed on the freeway, missing the ramp).

Not funny anymore. Hungry. Cold. Tired. DARK!!! Seriously dark. I could see just well enough to follow the trail from one glow stick to the next. And then I couldn't. Each time I headed out from the last glow stick, I tripped over something and fell on my face. Went back to the glow stick, put on my emergency rain poncho and hunkered down to wait for the next runner. The next runner never came. I WAS the next runner; I was DFL at this point. OK, time to try out my emergency whistle. Turns out I was very close to the road, but I couldn't know that. One of the race directors came out to retrieve me and we walked a mile or so together. Got a ride back to the finish. The good news: I had a bunch of friends waiting at the end. So nice to have friends.

Next morning, got up and went to the pancake breakfast and then drove home. The kids (all four grandkids and Jonas and Alexis) flew in that evening. I was exhausted but determined to keep up with the young'uns. Not an easy task. Did a short run with 9 year old Avery on Monday and again on Wednesday. He has a really nice, easy stride.

All the kids left today. The house is quiet. Too quiet. Way too quiet. Sigh.

Going public

Why do I announce, to anyone who reads the blog or listens to me rant, my intentions to run a particular race? It is easier to just keep quiet, go to the race and then if all goes well, I can post/talk/brag about it afterwards. And if I "fail," no one will know that I tried and I will feel no shame.

Going public is a deliberate tactic. It provides that extra motivation. I can't quit; everyone knows I am out here trying.

Blah!!! I wrestled with this before Never Summer 100K. I decided to put myself out there. I did not succeed. Perhaps I failed. Perhaps I just quit. Whatever....doesn't matter. Let me tell you about this race.

Beautiful day for a run. Got to spend some time with new friends and old friends. Sauntered for a while. Went up a mountain, down a mountain, up a mountain, down a mountain. The Diamond!!! What the heck was that about? I swear, that sucker was so steep that, if I leaned forwards just a bit, my knuckles dragged the ground in front of me. I took a couple of breaks. Once I stopped and looked up to try to see the top. I almost fell over backwards, I kid you not!! It was that steep! Seriously!! As I was trudging along, one foot at a time, I could hear a snare drum, beating out a nice, slow cadence. Nothing to fast, just a steady rhythm. The most interesting part of this section of the course was that we kept crossing a trail that had switchbacks. How I longed to take that trail....switchbacks, a real luxury. Found out later that the switchback trail is "not on the maps" so we weren't allowed on it. Instead, we went straight up the damn mountainside where there was no trail.

All was good until about mile 35. I started getting a little goofy. Decided I didn't want to eat the peanut butter and jelly roll ups at the aid station. Didn't want the drink they had. Didn't want any of the foods I was carrying. Mile 44 aid station: Decided I didn't want to continue. Seriously, I was out of gas. But, the aid station volunteers told me I could only quit if the medics said I was too sick to go on. They didn't want to deal with a whining quitter. So I sucked down some broth and noodles and headed back out on the trail. Figured I could quit at the next aid station.

The trek from mile 44 to 50 was excruciatingly slow. It was dark. I was alone. In fact, I was DFL...no one was behind me. I started getting cold. I tried to force fluids down but they came back up. I barfed out the broth and noodles I had at mile 44. When I got to the aid station at mile 50, I fell into a chair, grabbed a blanket and put it over my head. I said I was quitting. I refused to take the blanket off my head. "Are you ok?" they asked. "Sure, I am fine," I said from under the blanket. "Do you want something to eat." "No."

I got a ride back to the start/finish. Only then did I emerge from the blanket (don't  know whose blanket it was but I took it with me, even through a change of vehicles). I brushed my teeth, discarded my muddy clothes, and crawled into my sleeping bag. Blah!!!

I am not going to tell anyone what I am doing this Saturday (in Pagosa Springs, at Devil Mountain). Nope....not going to announce it.

Never Summer 100K is around the corner

According to the GNAR website, the Never Summer race has lots of "charm." I guess charm, in this case, includes overgrown trails, mosquitoes, confusing paths, streams to cross and mud up to your shins (oh crap, I hate mud).

Oh well, in that case, I have nothing to worry about!

Yeah, I am gonna crush the course. I am gonna go out there and run like I own the Never Summers. I am gonna stay hydrated. I am gonna eat 200 calories every hour (EVERY hour). I am gonna tape my feet so well that the tape will NEVER come off. 

I am gonna run through the mud with a smile on my face. I am gonna whiz through every aid station, grab a cup of Coke, some taters, a PB&J, some chips. I will refill my bladder and NEVER SIT DOWN. 

I am gonna take my best headlamp and I will even learn how to turn it on! I will elude the mountain lions, run with the moose, spook the deer, and chase the bighorn sheep.

I am gonna do everything right this time. And even though Grandmas are allowed to have pacers starting at mile 30, I am gonna do this one all by myself. No pacer, no crew. Just me and the mountains.

The RD has posted lots of pictures on Facebook. Below is a sample of what I have to look forward to. Unfortunately, I may also experience mosquitoes, mud, the dark of night, perhaps a storm with thunder and lightning and hail. 

It is easy to be excited and positive now, with the race more than 2 weeks off. It is easy to remember only lessons learned from Bighorn and forget the total mental meltdown that I experienced.



















I will finish up my specific training and then enter the taper zone. I have learned that I can never predict what will actually happen and how I will respond. Keeping my fingers crossed.

Bighorn 2, Dusty Ole Gramma 0

Interesting race. Love and hate. Hot and cold. Mud and dust. Feast and famine....ok, now I am being silly.

There is no good reason for my DNF. I was ahead of schedule and then I was behind schedule. Basically, I was inflexible. I didn't want to eat. I didn't want to step in the mud. I didn't want to run in a second day of heat.

Yep, Friday was very warm. I was conservative until it cooled off. Then I became more conservative. Did I mention mud? Hit the turn around and decided to re-tape my feet. Got cold sitting there trying to make my fingers work. Got warmed up. Left the warmth to go back on the course. Got cold. Went back to the aid station. The end.

There were several highlights. Running with Al from Baltimore. He called me Grandma.

Almost stepping on a bunch of mice!! They kept running across the trail in the dark. Yes, I am sure they were there. Ranie said she saw a bunch of dead ones when she ran back down the trail.

The flowers were magnificent!! The Little Bighorn River was amazing! The canyons were stunning. Running with Ranie is always fun.

Talked with Serena Eley, a young physicist from Los Alamos labs, before the race.  She said she was a sprinter and hadn't really done any ultras. She finished 3rd woman!!!!

The biggest downer? Not getting to run with Cheryl Duran. I really, really wanted to show her the flowers and canyons and rivers.

I pledged never again. I am sticking with that decision. Never again will I attempt Bighorn 100. It is bigger than I am.

I pledged to never attempt another 100 miler. I pledged to withdraw from Never Summer 100K. I pledged to switch from the 50 mile to the 50K at Devil Mountain. In less than 24 hours, I was online looking at Javelina Jundred. I was looking at the course for Never Summer. I was perusing new shoes (magic shoes, AKA Altras, with more cushioning?), checking out different nutrition plans (Tailwind), etc, etc.

Why? WHY??? Why can't I be content with a 50 miler once a year? Why do I keep pushing? Honestly, what the hell is wrong with me? I don't want to be average, or normal, or just a 50 miler. I want to be extraordinary!

My magic shoes are dead!!i

Oh no, there are holes in the uppers and the bottoms are becoming slick. My magic shoes only  lasted about 4 months.

The Altra Superior 2.0 is my new fave. This poor pair has seen a lot of trails since January 22.

Let's see, they have done three 50 k's, a 45 miler, a 50 miler, and heaven only knows how many training miles. They gone in the snow, the dust, the mud, the sand and especially the rocks. They have earned their retirement.

I have another pair!!! Just like these only gray. I took them out for a 30 miler on Sunday. They felt like magic but they betrayed me! I stubbed my toe and lurched forward, hurting my butt muscles. Then I did it again and this time it hurt worse. And again. And for-heaven's-sake-what-is-wrong-with-me AGAIN. The final time I really hurt my butt muscles. Really. Like ouch!!! Like, oh crap I have to walk home. Seven miles of pain every time I moved my leg forward. Crapola!!

OK, these magic shoes need to be broken in a bit, I guess. They feel great right out of the box, but they must be just a little different. 

I love my magic shoes! They will be ready for Bighorn!!!

Powder River.

Let 'er buck!!