Here's to the little things ~

morning hike w dogs on Roxie's Trail

Artie in the pink maples

Wow, I put in some great miles this weekend for my birthday.  What an awesome weekend it has been!  It started out kind of cold and rainy on Friday and I have to admit, I was super-psyched to see the rain and have the cooler weather.  This type of weather always reminds me of my birthdays growing up as a kid in Michigan ~ it always seemed to rain on my birthday, but it made staying inside with the fire crackling in the fireplace and the smell of birthday cake baking in the oven that much more special.  I used to look out the kitchen window at the beautiful red maple leaves and watch the birds and squirrels in the bird feeders.  One year I had friends over and after playing games inside, we all carved our own personal pumpkins on the front porch.  Good times!

me and my buddy, Frank

Artie & Frank posing at Roxie's rest spot

This year for my birthday, I first slept in and enjoyed coffee on the couch with my favorite two pups.  I heard the UPS truck outside make a stop about mid-morning, just as I was trying to motivate to change my clothes and take the dogs out for a hike.  I wasn't expecting a package... yet there was one left on my front step!  I called, "Thank you" after the UPS man as he jogged back to his truck, and took the surprise package inside to see what it was all about.  Inside was my favorite thing ever ~ COOKIES!  It took me a while to find the message to figure out who they were from, but as it turns out they were from my sister-in-law and brother in Idaho.  Happy day!

beautiful Fall colors

I took the dogs for one of our favorite hikes up at Red Butte.  It's a 4-mile loop that I like to call "Roxie's Loop" as it is named after my old yellow lab who did the loop countless times with me over the years.  I swear, Roxie was deaf and half-blind towards the end, but she never missed a turn on that loop through the maples and over the ridges.  Franklin, Artemis, and I took a few minutes to sit at Roxie's and my favorite sitting-spot and enjoy the views before cruising down to the creek for a splash and a drink (the dogs, not me).

Vernon on the afternoon mountain bike ride

I went home for a quick bite to eat, and then was met by G who loaded up the bikes into the truck and we went for a mountain bike ride up near Park City.  It was kind of cold and dreary, but the ride up the hill warmed us up quickly and when we got near the top, the colors and views were absolutely spectacular.  The ride down was a bit technical, but I'm proud to say that I made it around 90% of the switchbacks without putting my feet down to touch the ground and felt pretty good about my skills despite only riding a couple of times per year.

Leaves of Gold ~ mtn biking in PC

After getting cleaned up at home, my friend Mark picked me up a short while later and we went to dinner with a small group of friends at my favorite sushi restaurant.  Yum!  I am a bottomless pit when it comes to eating sushi.  I got flowers and chocolates, and Mark even let me drive his rental car ~ one of the sweet, cute new little Fiats.  We all told stories and laughed lots and I felt so fortunate to have such a great group of friends who were all from different backgrounds, yet hit it off so smashingly!  Yeah, baby!

Now it's the day after my birthday and the fun never stops.  My friend Ann and I went up to the Living Room (a group of rocks that are arranged in "chair" and "couch" formations) and Mt Wire (a peak above Salt Lake with some big radio reflector panels on it) with the dogs of course, and the weather and views were gorgeous!  (Ann is my friend who a few weeks ago spent the night pacing me through the longest, coldest section of the Bear 100.)

stormy skies over Snyderville

I got home and it kind of hit me that a couple of years ago, I went up Mt Wire on my birthday and missed a call from my dad, who was in the hospital in Germany.  It was pretty significant that he had called, because he never really remembered my birthday through the years and always had to be reminded (by myself, my mom, or my brother) that it was my birthday.  I called him back that day and was able to have a short conversation with him.  He died about a week and a half later, and my brother, sister-in-law and I all went over to Germany to deal with the funeral and stuff.  I reflect on it now and think how important those seemingly little things are in life.  How important a phone call can be, or just hearing someone's voice for a few minutes.

Vernon, trail-bud

Lots of great little things this weekend added up to a super-fantastic series of events.  I can honestly say that it has been one of my best birthdays ever.  Here's to happy trails, great friends, and loyal dogs.  Here's to 41 years!  Cheers!

What a Bear

Last Friday and Saturday, I ran the Bear 100.  When I signed up for it a month ago, I was coming off of my great TransRockies race results and was feeling very strong.  As the days got closer to the Bear 100, however, I began to feel tighter and tighter, achier, and generally tired.  I have had a long summer of running, and was starting to wonder what I had gotten myself into.

I knew that I had one thing going for me ~ a great crew and strong pacers.  I tried to put the pain (back and hamstrings) out of my mind and focus on the facts that I had trained well all summer, thus having a really strong base of mileage, and that I had really strong, positive people supporting me.  I also have a great massage therapist, whom I visited 4 times in the two weeks leading up to the race.

Ready for the start!

I drove up to Logan, where the race starts, the night before the race with my friend Sue who was my partner at TransRockies and would be driving my Subaru throughout the race.  She got me up in the morning, and got me to the race start.  We took Jill and Roger to the race start as well (they were staying in the same hotel).  She is truly a calming influence on me, and was nothing but positive the night before and the morning of the race.  I could feel that she had complete confidence in me that I would finish my race.

I said hello to a few people at the start and then went off on my own to walk around and try to loosen up my legs a bit.  It's always nice to see my running friends at these types of events, but it can make me a bit more nervous too.  Before I knew it, I was re-lacing my shoes a bit tighter and getting ready to start running for the next day and a half.

Sue in "hurry up and wait" mode.

A couple of miles up the first climb, I could feel hot spots starting on my heels.  Not a good sign.  The first climb is about 3,400 feet in 5 miles, and after a short descent of a couple hundred feet over a mile or two, it climbs again for another 3 miles and 1,200 feet.  I stopped a couple of times to assess my heels and pop the small blisters that had started.  I turned my socks inside out to prevent further rubbing, and cursed myself for not having any tape with me.  My heels never blister, and so I didn't even think to take any tape with me.  I tried to put the thought of my feet and what the future would hold for them out of my mind.  12 miles in, and my feet were already a problem.

Then as I was trying to put my feet out of my mind, my lower back flared up.  My SI joints had been a problem in the week leading up to the race, and today was turning out to be no different.  Thankfully, I had brought an SI belt (a velcro belt-device that you wear low on your hips to put some compression on the SI joints and prevent the inflammation created by instability) and my back felt better.

My car had a really good time.

Despite my physical concerns, I was flying.  I had predicted doing the first 45 miles in 4 mile per hour pace, and as I looked at my Garmin GPS watch, I was right-on.  I came into the 20 mile aid (Leatham Hollow) and was greeted by Sue and Eve Davies, and ate really well ~ tons of food.  I would see them again at about mile 30.  Despite what the website splits say, I was only at Leatham for about 20 minutes (the website said an hour and twenty, but someone entered it into the computer wrong).  This was a little longer than I wanted to take at this point, but I took the time to take my shoes and socks off, clean my feet, tape my heels, and changed out to my older, larger, more supple shoes.

Cute Jamie and Ann at mile 45 aid station.

I ran up the road for a while with a nice young woman named Naomi, and she and I would have meetings again throughout the race.  She was from Kimberly, BC, and I commented to her how much I liked Canadians, especially after meeting so many friendly northerly neighbors at the TransRockies event that I had just done a month ago.  I remember seeing some scenes from the ski area at Kimberly in a Powderwhores movie a couple of years ago, and I still have it on my list of things to do to ski there someday soon.

I met Sue again at mile 30, Cawley Canyon, and ate well again.  I saw some of my running friends, who were there to crew, aid, and cheer on friends ~ Candy Lavicky and Colleen Ford.  As I exited the aid station, Eve Davies waved to me from her parked vehicle.  It was really great to see so many smiling faces out there.

Beaver Mountain color.

I cruised in and out of Right Hand Fork aid station at mile 36.9 and honestly don't remember a lot about it, other than it was an out and back aid station and it was a little congested on the trail with two way traffic for about a half a mile.  I ate well again here, and as I recall, I was out quickly.  From what I remember, the next section had a long descent on dirt road and Davy Crocket and I played leapfrog for a little while on this section.

I made it into Temple Fork at mile 45, and was happy to see my pacer, Ann, who would join me for the night section.  I had told Ann that it would be okay if she met me at mile 51, but honestly, I was ready for some company on the trail.  Her boyfriend Jamie was there as well, as was Jasper Mueller, to whom I believe I am Eskimo-married to now, as he bathed my feet with water, wiped them down with a towel, and applied tape to my heels.  Apparently because of this ceremony, he informed me that we are betrothed (!)

Me and Andrea negotiating the rocks near mile 85.

Indeed, my heels, despite their rawness, were holding up well.  The sun was starting to go down, and Ann and I had the second-longest climb in front of us now (3,000 feet over 8 miles), with the temperatures starting to dip.  I was glad I grabbed a couple of extra layers and changed into my knee-length tights and a jacket as Jill had advised me to do.

The climb seemed to go on forever.  We saw Naomi from Canada again in this section, and exchanged some words of encouragement.  We did have a really nice descent down to Franklin Trailhead at mile 61 after reaching White Pine ridge, which I think may have been in the dark by this point, because I really don't remember it at all.  I remember the fall colors throughout the day, and from this point on, I would remember winding aimlessly through thick pine forests in the dark.  At times, it seemed as if we were just running around in circles.  I was so glad that I had Ann with me to reassure me, because I could have sworn a couple of times that we would end up right back at the same aid station we had just come from.

Bear Lake is in sight!

After seeing Sue at mile 61 (and Marit, a friend of mine who was at TransRockies, and  who was there crewing another friend of hers, Jen, and would take up pacing duties with Jen through the night), I really began to have some issues.  I had had a great 45-50 mile race so far, coming in ahead of all of my predicted times, and ending up at this point about 45 minutes ahead of schedule.  I told Ann, "It might end here ~ I think I'm going to slow down from this point forward."  And wow, was that an understatement.  I struggled with my stomach for the next 20 hours.  Every time I took in food, my stomach would ache terribly.  But if I didn't take in food, my stomach hurt anyway, and because of the lack of calories, I started to fall asleep.  The night section took me about 2 hours longer than I had anticipated.  That's a 15 mile section, that I had hoped to do in about 5 hours, and it took me a little over 7 hours to complete.

Continuously, I found my eyes crossing and my vision blurring and I was stumbling over rocks, falling asleep as I was walking.  A couple of times I just laid down without warning and slept for 5 minutes.  I can't tell you how grateful I was for those few minutes of sleep.  They were glorious.  I tried eating caffeinated jelly-beans to wake myself up, and ended up vomiting them up because the combination of caffeine and sugar was just too hard on my stomach.  I actually woke up and ran pretty quickly, singing a Katy Perry song, for about 20 minutes.  I reveled in those few minutes and took advantage of my short-lived energy.

Above Bear Lake with 5 miles to go.

Just before reaching the Logan River aid station at mile 70, we saw a Toyota truck coming up the rough double track dirt road.  What the f*** was the only thing Ann and I could utter.  Who would drive their truck up to go camping at 2am on this type of road?  And then we realized ~ it was Naomi, the girl from Canada.  She had been having some knee pain and had to drop out of the race.  My heart went out to her, and I almost wanted to cry for her.  She was such a strong woman, and I knew that if it hadn't been for her knee, she would have kept going and had a great finish.  I thought back to my Wasatch 100 in 2010 when the same thing happened to me.  All systems go, except for the knee that took me out (it was an IT band injury).  Such a major disappointment for me that year and for her this year.  I was sad that I would not see her at the finish line.  (Side note~ I did come back and redeem myself with a finish at Wasatch 100 in 2011.)

Me and Gerald in the final quarter mile.

Logan River aid station was butt-a** cold.  Thankfully, they had real food ~ chicken noodle soup and grilled cheese sandwiches which sat really well on my painful stomach.  I ate a cup of fruit here too, and kept everything down really well, despite the weird guy that kept getting up from the fire pit to hurl and announce it to everyone with exuberance.  What a jerk.  I wanted to punch him in the gut and tell him to shut up, but I didn't have the energy to do so.

We left Logan River and I thought to myself, "Just 6 more miles and you get to sit down in the ski lodge (at Beaver Mountain).  Just 6 more miles and it will be light again.  When it is light again, your stomach will feel better and you will move into the final stage to get this thing done."  What a long way 6 miles can be when you are traveling at 2 miles per hour, in the middle of the cold night and have been going for over 20 hours already.  What a long way indeed.  It was so cold, there was frost on the ground.  There were a couple of stream crossings with precarious rocks and logs, some of which I was able to cross on all fours as to not fall in and some that I just walked through the ice cold water because I knew that if I tried to stay on those rocks that I would fall.  2 miles per hour.  Slower than my slowest estimate.  It was a long, cold night, but it would soon be over.

Giving my friends at the finish line a smile.

Ann and I reached the Beaver Mountain road and followed the arrows to the ski lodge.  On the way to the lodge, my friends Andrea and Mark cheered for me in the parking lot.  I mustered a slight smile.  My friend Cathy (Marit's partner from TransRockies) put her arm around me and told me how proud she was of me.  I may or may not have thanked her.  I wanted to cry because I was so grateful for having such wonderful friends.  I wanted to lie down.  I wanted to sleep.

Mark got my sleeping bag and set it up in the corner of the lodge for me.  "Fifteen minutes, that's all I want.  Please... "  and Ann advocated, "I would totally approve for her to have just a few minutes of sleep."  And they did, they let me sleep.  And it was glorious.

Across the grass to the finish line.

When I was woken up 13 minutes later (they gipped me out of two minutes of sleep!), I was able to eat some bananas and something else, I don't remember what.  My stomach was way past trying to eat gels or chews.  I asked for a cup of coffee and Sue made me the most disgusting cup of instant coffee I've ever had in my life (but she tried!).  Mark ended up splitting it and watering it down and we shared the second cup with another racer.  I was able to poop in the ski lodge bathroom (success!) after drinking about 3 sips of coffee.  As I changed my socks and re-taped my feet, my friend Brian crouched next to me and smiled in my face.  He helped solidify the belief I already had in myself that I would finish.  I had had a rough night as far as my stomach and fatigue was concerned, but my legs felt good and I had no good excuse to quit ~ I was out the door.  15 minutes of sleep time and 30 minutes of aid station time.  I was proud to be out in under an hour.

I felt like I was freezing as Andrea and I walked away from the shelter and warmth of the ski lodge.  I shivered, walking away from running friends who were crewing others and must have appeared as though I was looking right through them in my daze of fatigue.  I was so cold, so cold... I had on my down jacket and my down vest I was so cold.  I knew I was over-dressed but didn't have the calories in me to keep myself warm.  I just had to keep moving.  The sun was up at this point (it was just after 7am) and it would begin to be warm.  My friend Ken Jensen was at the next aid station, Gibson Jack, and I was looking forward to seeing him.

Sue congratulating me at the finish.

We climbed up the old dirt road to Gibson Jack at mile 81, and there was Ken, smiling away.  He had camped there all night with a group of volunteers, aiding runners all night long.  I had a bite of scrambled eggs that were completely disgusting (sorry, Ken!) and after sitting with Marit and Jen for a few minutes, we got up to continue on.  I was amazed that after 5 minutes of hobbling along on the dirt road out of Gibson Jack that Jen was able to overtake me and start running.  Running!  My legs wouldn't do it.  They refused.  I started doing the math with Andrea, and basically I had 11 hours to do the last 24 miles.  That's a little more than 2 miles per hour.  I would finish.  There was no doubt in my mind!

Andrea and I averaged about 3 miles per hour until the end.  We were in and out of mile 85 aid station, Beaver Creek campground and Mark took some photos of me negotiating the rocky section just before the aid station.  He high-fived me as I said, "607, in and out!"  and the aid station volunteer gave me a courteous smile and nod.  Andrea got me another banana and a 7-up, which both settled on my poor stomach really well, and about every 20 minutes I would take 3 bites of banana and about 3 sips of 7-up.  We walked up the hill with a couple from Canada (I think) and I was actually able to think of something else besides how tired I was and how much my stomach hurt.

Me and Sue ~ so happy to be done.

Andrea was great in telling stories the entire way.  We got to the last aid station, Ranger Dip, at mile 92 after just cresting a beautiful divide with scenic views.  I looked around and asked, "Where is the lake  (Bear Lake)?  Shouldn't we be able to see it by now?"  and Andrea replied, "I think we have one more hill, honey."  One more hill.  Brian had told me about that hill.  And I must say, he downplayed its significance.  It is about one mile long, and approximately 800 feet in elevation.  Aptly named at the top of the climb is the ridge called, "the Gates of Paradise" because after that hill, it's really all downhill until the end.

Six miles downhill.  Very steep downhill.  So steep that you almost can't look up to realize that Bear Lake lies just a few miles below you.  Turquoise blue and inviting.  Waiting for you.  So steep at times that you think your legs will just give out on you and you will topple, head over heels, rolling and tumbling and not be able to stop...  but my legs held, and I made it to the bottom of that hill that seemed as though it would never end.

Enjoying some finish line refreshment!

When Andrea and I got to the bottom of the hill, there was one more small hill up and over to a water-tank reservoir, and then it really was all downhill until the bottom.  We ran through a dream-scape of pink maple leaves, crossing the creek on a wooden bridge.  I was so tired and delirious at this point, I couldn't believe how beautiful it was.

We hit the paved road.  How far?  A mile or so...  that's all... it's almost over.  My friend Gerald was walking up the road to meet me.  I didn't recognize him.  I was so focused on the finish, and where was it anyway?  Was it soon?  Was it just around the corner?  Andrea and Gerald walked as fast as I ran.  I actually ran the last mile down the road.  I hit Main Street in Fish Haven and looked for the park where the finish line was.  It was there.  I was crossing the grass.  I was under the finish banner.  I was done.

34 hours 9 minutes.  100 miles.

It was a beautiful day of Fall colors and vistas.  It was a gorgeous day with friends.  It was a long, cold, painful night.  It was a redeeming morning.  One thing is certain, I love my friends.  I think I may have turned into a little popsicle laying on the side of the trail in the middle of the night if it hadn't been for Ann.  My friends fed me, taped my feet, changed my nasty, gross, dirty socks, and kept me from melting down.  They reinforced the confidence that I had in myself to get the job done.  100 miles in the mountains between Logan and Bear Lake and I am not sure I will ever do it again.  Time will tell.  I said the same thing after Wasatch 100 last year.

Talisman

A couple of years ago, when I was over in Germany traveling with my brother, Stefan, and sister-in-law, Abigail, my brother gave me a very special gift ~ a talisman!  A special little "good luck charm" that I carry with me often.  We were at a little souvenir shop in a little town, and while Abigail and I were inside looking at postcards, my brother was dumping all of his small change on the lady at the small shop and gathering up little gifts to give out to folks back home.  Little did I know, he was getting me a little something too!

My good luck charm is hooked to my key chain and I often take it with me when I am running as well as when I'm in the car.  I actually carried it with me through Colorado on the TransRockies course!  It was hooked inside a pocket in my pack.  Indeed, on Stage 5 when I got my asthma inhaler out for a friend who was having trouble breathing because of all of the dust, I ran the last mile with that pocket unzipped and open, and did not lose it (whew).

The significance of the talisman is this:  it features St. Christopher, who is the patron saint of travelers and children.  Well, I'm not a child, but I fell like a kid at heart.  And I travel often, and on foot, so a little looking after by good St. Christopher is much appreciated by myself.  On the back of the medallion, it says, "God protects you" in German. You can read more about the saint here.


If you are traveling in Europe, and especially in southern Germany, you will notice that the taxi drivers and even some of the buses, and many of the private citizens have St. Christopher medallions mounted on the dashboard of their vehicles or carry a St. Christopher key chain.  Someone asked me if this was strange, because he thought Germany was more of a Protestant country, when in fact southern Germany is predominantly Catholic.

My talisman has worked its way loose a couple of times and fallen off of my keychain, but it's always happened in an area where I see it and have been able to pick it up again, which I find curious and am wondering if it is the saint hinting to me to just pay a little more attention to things around me.  I think it's a very good sign that it has fallen off and I have immediately found it has come loose ~ does it mean that St. Christopher is really watching?  I hope so...  and I will continue to carry my talisman!

Keeping Things In Perspective

After I finished TransRockies almost a month ago, which is hard to believe, I felt like a million bucks.  I felt strong and practically invincible on the trail.  I felt fast and everything felt easy.  I had this little voice in the back of my head telling me to be careful ~ it would be too easy to suddenly feel overtrained and tired.

And guess what?  That's exactly what happened.  After a couple of weeks of strong, nearly-effortless running, my body told me to stop.  I kept running last week, but didn't feel right.  Little things were suddenly hurting a lot.  I went and got a massage and felt a little better, but still things were not quite right.  I think I've narrowed it down~ my quads got so strong that they have pulled my pelvis out of alignment, tipping it forward, which puts strain on my hips, lower back, and upper hamstrings attachment.

So I decided to take a bit of my own advice.  Which is tough, because I've committed to running the Bear 100 on September 28th, just two weeks away.  What would I tell one of my patients, if they came to me with the same complaints?  I would tell them to back off, literally.

So now I find myself doing easy dog walks both in the city and in the foothills.  Mostly flat terrain, and mostly at three miles per hour.  I'm using the foam roller daily, taking ibuprofen three times per day, and stretching.  I have two more massages booked before the race.  The one thing I could improve upon is drinking more water ~ I need to drink at least 3 liters per day and I'm probably drinking one and a half.

Now the little voice in the back of my head is telling me, "Don't worry.  The hay is in the barn and you have plenty of training miles banked up from a great summer of running, without injury.  Don't blow it!  Take this time to enjoy the scenery and keep things in perspective."

So that's what I'm doing.  Dog walks, no running for the last three days, and enjoying the scenery.  I'm keeping things in perspective and looking forward to my event two weeks from today.

Triple Duty at Wasatch 100

Always a welcoming sight:  Big Mountain aid station
was Olympic theme this year ~
I kind of missed the pink flamingosfrom years past.

This past weekend I did triple duty at the Wasatch 100.  In the days leading up to the race, I started getting really nervous (mostly upset stomach) thinking of the gravity of what so many of my friends would be accomplishing this weekend.  Some of them finished, and some of them did not.  But all of them had an epic adventure in the Wasatch mountains, and I was lucky enough to be there to witness it.

Kim's crew boss, Ann

I wanted to put up a post on Facebook and "tag" all of my friends who were running.  But as I scrolled through the start list of over 300 racers, I realized that I actually knew (not just acquainted with, but face-to-face knew) about 40 people who were racing.  I have some pretty amazing friends.  Unfortunately, Facebook didn't want me to tag that many folks in one status update, so it would have to suffice to post a generalized statement wishing everyone luck.

Ants on a ridge top ~ Bald Mountain

First duty:  pacing my friend Kim.  I met up with crew chief Ann on race day, and after a quick trip down the canyon to get a fresh coke Slurpee for Kim, we met her at Big Mountain.  I ran with her for about 13 miles over the ridge tops, stopping briefly at Alexander Spring aid station (she wanted to sit down, but I wouldn't let her.  She squatted near the aid station while I got her a ham sandwich which I pretty much force-fed her as we walked down the trail away from the aid station).  Things got dark, fast.  Coming around the corner, about two miles outside of the Lamb's Canyon aid station, we saw the lit-up tents in the distance.  It was like a desert oasis, waiting for us... a mirage.

We laughed and told stories all along the way, and I recited tales from my TransRockies adventure and clips from Modern Family television episodes.  We had a really great time.  We got to Lamb's, and met up again with Ann, crew boss, and the night pacer, Janice.  After getting Kim changed into warmer clothes and force-fed some mashed potatoes, they went on their way towards Millcreek and Brighton, off in the night...

Looking down at Little Dell Reservoir

Then came duty #2:  volunteer at Lamb's Canyon.  It was about 10pm when I started my volunteer duties for the night, mostly hanging out with Matthew and Naomi on the soup station, but also cleaning up random trash and straightening up.  As it got closer to the midnight cut-off, I had a couple of medical consults:  one person falling asleep with very low blood sugar and another with major muscle spasms and cramping from electrolyte disturbance.  Getting them hydrated and talking them out of puking for an hour or so worked wonders for their conditions.  And although they both ended up dropping out of the race, I felt like I had served a real purpose and kept some people a bit safer.  Their families were very gracious and thankful, and it really made my night when I heard their kind words, after spending time with their loved-ones to get them feeling a bit better.

Holla!  Kim coming down Bald Mountain

After the midnight cut-off, those of us left at the aid station (I was impressed that there were about a dozen of us who had stayed until about 1am) were left with clean-up duty.  This meant cleaning up and loading everything into a UHaul moving truck:  all of the food tables, soup station, tables, chairs, water jugs, and the biggest task:  taking down Jim Skagg's big white (wedding) tents that we had borrowed from the Antelope Island races.  Wow, they came down systematically and relatively quickly.  Jim had bins labeled for each section of tent or piece of metal tubing, and hopefully we didn't mix things up too much.  It all seemed pretty organized to me, and I thought we worked really well as a team to get things taken down.  A highway patrolman stopped by about midway through the tent-disassembly process, and was surprised to find a bunch of stand-up citizens such as ourselves and not a bunch of rowdy drunks on the side of the highway.  We offered to let him help with the tents, but he declined and continued on his peacekeeping rounds.

Just a pacer ~ me on Bald Mountain

After driving down Parley's Canyon at about 2am, I got home, showered, and ate some scrambled eggs and toast and hit the hay.  I'd had a long day and needed some rest.  The dogs woke me up at 7am wanting their breakfast, and I fed them and went back to bed for a bit.  I woke at about 10:30 and after drinking a half a pot of coffee and catching up with runner positions on the Wasatch 100 website, I found the motivation to move on to duty #3:

Finish line duty.  I drove up to Midway, Utah to the Homestead, site of the race finish festivities.  Just missed a couple of friends finishing due to construction traffic in Parley's Canyon, but saw a whole bunch of other friends finish, and those whom I did not see finish I was able to hang out with and listen to their stories.  I ate one of the best cheeseburgers of my life, worth every penny of the $13 I spent on it and a bunch of fries, and drank a few PBRs as well.  So many smiles there at the Wasatch 100 finish line, and I was so thankful that I already had my own buckle (from last year) that I won't have to run that race anytime soon ~ it's a doozy.

Girls with smiles ~

Watching my friends finish and listening to them tell their stories really got me excited for the Bear 100, coming up in three weeks.  Because of the fortunate timing (sometimes these two races are only two weeks apart) many of my friends will be racing the Bear 100 up in Logan, Utah as well.  I couldn't be more amazed and proud to call them my friends.

After triple duty at Wasatch 100, I'm looking forward to running my own race at the Bear.  It will be another great dance in the mountains with friends.

Kim was bathed in golden light coming
into Alexander aid station

TransRockies Run ~ not just a vacation in the mountains

At the final finish line, Stage 6 ~ photo by Klaus Fengler.

My friend Sue Lee and I travelled to Colorado a couple of weeks ago to settle in and prepare ourselves for the ultimate "vacation" for ultrarunners ~ the Gore-Tex TransRockies Run.  Many of the folks at TransRockies call this "summer camp for adults", and we were hoping to have an enlightening experience.

After driving about 5 hours in the car, we reached Grand Junction, and decided to stop for gelato (we needed to fuel up on pre-race calories since we would be in calorie deficit for the upcoming week of racing).  After consulting the gear list and Sue sent a couple of emails, we stopped by Summit Canyon Mountaineering store to pick up a camp towel for me (no towels would be provided by the race, and "towel" was not listed on the gear checklist).  Unfortunately, Summit Canyon Grand Junction only had small towels, so they called ahead to the Glenwood store, and set aside an extra-large towel for me.  Crisis averted.

We made the quick stop in Glenwood at the store, then settled in to the Comfort Inn in Beaver Creek for the night. A rain shower had passed through in the afternoon, and the temperature was a cool 70 degrees.  Delightful.

Start of Stage 1 in Buena Vista, CO

We woke the next morning, ate breakfast at the Avon Bakery (amazing!) and proceeded up the hill to Beaver Creek to catch our shuttle to Buena Vista (the race start was in Buena Vista, and we would leave our car at the parking garage at the Beaver Creek resort so that we would have it at the finish).  Much to our despair, no one in the town of Avon or at the resort (we asked about 5 people) knew where the "Centennial Bus Station" was.  The resort garbage man was out best resource and he pointed us further up the hill to the base of the Centennial ski lift.  We unloaded our gear on the sidewalk (creating an obstacle that many of the mountain bikers were not sure how to deal with getting around) and I made a call to Marit Fischer from the Backcountry.com team to see if she knew where the meeting point was.

Above Buena Vista, Stage 1

Marit had gotten off the freeway at Lionshead, Vail, or thereabouts, and I directed her up the hill to where we were waiting.  At least if we were in the wrong place, we could all wait together.

The shuttle did come, and the driver of the van had been a bit confused about the location as well, but we all got packed into the van:  me, Sue, Adam, Karmen, Cathy, and Marit, and our driver "Turbo" drove us not so smoothly on Highway 24 south to Buena Vista.  Marit and I had some car-sickness issues in the back of the van, as it is a really windy road...  thankfully Turbo let us all out in Leadville for a quick bathroom break and some fresh air.

Sue on the false-flat, final miles of Stage 1

After a bit of confusion about how and wear to drop us all off at our respective accommodations for the night, Sue and I got settled in to the Lakeside Motel in Buena Vista.  We hung out in Buena Vista for a couple of days and rested, took a couple of short runs in the trails east of town above the Arkansas River, were graced with a visit by our coach, Ian Torrence.

Check-in on Monday at the museum went well enough, and we picked up our gear bags and booked our massages for the upcoming week of racing.  We had dinner with the other racers at the elementary school gym on Monday night and watched slideshows and videos to get us pumped up for the race.

Race start came dark and early Tuesday morning.  We set our bags out at the motel office for the luggage van to pick up and take to our finish camp later in the afternoon.  I'm sure we were both nervous about how the day would proceed, but Sue and I had an understanding that we would both race within our limits, kind of get a feel for the whole thing, and not get too worked up about things.  After all, we were on vacation, summer camp for adults, right?

Stage 2, nearing Hope Pass

Breakfast at the school gym, and several bathroom breaks later, we were ready to start the race.  Stage 1 ~ Buena Vista to Railroad Bridge, 20.8 miles, 2,400 ft elevation gain.  It took us 4 hours and 14 minutes to run this stage.  Along the way, we met a lot of really great people.  The aid stations were totally stocked, efficient, and supportive.  Stage 1 is notoriously a "hot" one, because it is lower in elevation compared to all of the other stages, but we lucked out and I felt like it was actually quite cool out there (which was false ~ the temps had actually reached into the low 90s...  well, it was cooler than running in the heat of the day in Salt Lake City, anyway).

Sue and I were happy with our time and happy with how we felt (other than the last 3.9 miles of the course which was a false-flat on a dirt road... but I just put my head down and pretended that I was doing an interval workout in Liberty Park to get through it.  Sue said her hamstring was seizing up, and so we backed off the pace a bit for the last couple of miles.)  Wow, was I excited when we came around the corner to the finish chute by the Railroad Bridge.  Cynthia, from the Gore-Tex sponsor team greeted us into the finish with cups of cold water and electrolyte drink (GU Brew) and after chilling out at the finish with some ice packs for a few minutes, we went down for a soak in the Arkansas River.

Sue killing the downhill off Hope Pass
to Twin Lakes, Stage 2

While waiting for the shuttle van to take us to Arrowhead Camp for the night, Karmen (from the pre-race shuttle) had to move off to the side to puke (ugh, the heat had gotten to her) so we didn't ride with her and Adam.  After settling into camp and having a nice hot shower in the shower trailer (a full-sized semi trailer with a dozen showers powered by propane) we waited what seemed like an eternity for dinner to start (it started at 5pm).  TransRockies did a great job to give us lots of healthy snacks and drinks while we waited though, and if you were game, there was all of the Micholob Ultra that you could consume.

Start of Stage 4, the lake at Camp Hale

Sue heard a rumor that we had finished in second place, so I went to the results board up the hill to confirm.  Yes, indeed.  "Running within our limits" and at our own pace had earned us a second-place finish for the Womens' 80+ Division.  Not bad for two ladies on vacation.  After dinner we were called to the podium when our turn came and received our prizes ~ new Nathan vest-packs.  I was pretty psyched because I had gifted my previous Nathan pack to my pacer from Wasatch 100 last year, Ashley, so now I had a replacement.

Sue at start of Stage 4, Camp Hale to Red Cliff

To cut to the chase and as to not let this blogpost get too lengthy, I'm going to summarize the next five stages for you.  Suffice it to say, that this was one of the most amazing experiences of my life and I reached and attained running goals far beyond what I thought my limits were going into it.  The level of camaraderie was unbelievable, and people that I didn't even know were cheering me up the hill.  I have no doubt that the support of my race partner, Sue, and the support of the race volunteers, along with the incredible positive energy of the other racers, propelled me to three stage victories and second-place overall in our division.  We were visited by friends who were not racing (Billy Simpson and Ian Torrence) along the course, and their happy dispositions helped to take some of the pressure off of racing.  And each night that we reached the podium, we got sweet prizes from LaSportiva, Gore Running Wear, YurBuds, and Rudy Project to name a few.

Sue and I went into the event thinking we would just run our own race, and honestly that's what we did (except for the end of Stage 3 where we over-took the French ladies in the last 2 miles of the day's 23 mile-course.  That was a race!).  I felt like I ran at red-line several days, and we avoided major injury (we both had injuries, it's just a matter of dealing with them appropriately so as not to make them worse).  We had daily massages each afternoon which helped us immensely to recover.  We were fed delicious, nutritious food every morning and every evening.  We even had ice cream one night for desert!  Watching the slide shows and videos in the evenings was one of my favorite parts of the event. Every night, we sat by friends and would "Ooh" and "Aah" at the scenes of the day:  "There you are!" and "There I am!" each night.  It was a fabulous way to end each evening.

Finish of Stage 4, start of Stage 5, Red Cliff

Being on the winners' podium each night was an unexpected surprise.  I knew I was a strong runner, but I didn't know that I was a strong, good runner.  The winning team was a pair of ladies who were officers in the French military, Valerie and Marielle.  Each morning we would greet each other at the start line and wish each other good luck (the hugs got more numerous as the days went on).  And each evening, we would congratulate each other in camp and on the podium.  If we passed each other during the race, we would give each other thumbs-up and encouragement, telling each other "good job" and "magnifique".  It was really amazing to be battling it out with two women who were so gracious.  I would have loved to just run with them all day too.

It's not to say that I didn't have some difficulties along the way.  After our strong finishes winning Stages 2 and 3, I pulled a groin muscle on Stage 4 running down into Red Cliff.  Massage that night hurt like hell, and I was really afraid of what day 5 would bring.  I had a really tough start to the day on Stage 5, and found myself, although dressed in the overall leader's jersey, falling far off the pace.  I got really frustrated with the 8-mile climb on the dirt road.  The more frustrated I got with myself and my hurt leg, the slower I got.  Then I saw a smiling face bouncing down the road ~ it was Adam from the pre-race shuttle!  Karmen had sent him back down the route to pick me up and pace me back up to Sue (a good mile ahead of me by now... ) and that is exactly what I did.  I couldn't talk, and my breathing was so labored that I'm sure some of the other racers thought I was going to have a seizure and pass out.  They cheered me on anyway, "Go get 'em, Missy!  You can do it!"  They believed in me, and I started to believe in myself.  By the time we got to the first aid station, I had caught up to Sue, and Adam had re-joined Karmen.  I really couldn't have gotten there without the help of Adam.  Sue and I reached the top of Vail Mountain, and I found myself rejuvenated and running strong at 11,000 ft elevation.  We pounded down to the finish and found ourselves only 5 minutes behind the French ladies for the day.

Atop Vail Mountain, the Back Bowls, Stage 5

Our stages went back and forth like that with the French ladies.  Although we won three stages, we only got to wear the leaders' jerseys for one day (Stage 5).  There were days that our teams were only separated by two and a half minutes for the overall time.  By the end, we finished 19 minutes behind the French ladies for all six days and 120 miles.  The third-place team was almost three hours behind us, and the fourth place team was three and a half hours behind.  At the final dinner party at Beaver Creek, surrounded by about 300 of our newest, closest friends, we got up on the winners' podium for the last time.  The French ladies gave us their bottle of champagne from the finish line, another example of their gracious generosity, and congratulated us on giving them a good race.

Missy's got her groove back,
Stage 5 on Vail Mountain, 11,000 ft

Will I do it again, the TransRockies?  I'd like to think that I would.  But honestly, I don't think I could ever duplicate what a dream of a week this first TransRockies, my rookie stage event was.  Sue and I went into it thinking we would go on a running vacation and it turned into a real race and a battle.  The good part is, that although I was racing and winning, and feeling the pressure of being on the podium and holding our place each night, I was not overwhelmed with the pressure of competition, probably because the support of everyone around us was so immense.  I think I will bask in the glow for a while before I decide.

Finish line of Stage 5 ~ Vail Resort

On the week:
Stage 1: Buena Vista to Railroad Bridge:  20.8 miles, 4 hr 14 min, 2,400ft gain:  2nd place finish
Stage 2: Vicksburg (over Hope Pass) to Twin Lakes:  13.23mi, 3 hr 16 min, 3,110ft:  1st place finish
Stage 3: Leadville to Nova Guides, Camp Hale:  24.23mi, 4 hr 53 min, 2,550 ft gain:  1st place finish
Stage 4: Camp Hale to Red Cliff: 14.03mi, 3hrs 1 min, 2,746 ft gain: 1st place, attained leaders' jerseys
Stage 5: Red Cliff to Vail Resort: 23.9mi, 5hr 14min, 4,200ft gain: 2nd place finish, lost leaders' jerseys
Stage 6: Vail Resort to Beaver Creek Resort: 23.1mi, 5hr 22min, 5,150ft gain, 2nd place, 2nd overall

Total:  ~123 miles, 26hr 3min, ~20,500 ft vertical gain

Final podium at Beaver Creek ~ (l to r):
3rd place Cathy and Verna "MAD",
1st place Marielle and Valerie "Resilience",
2nd place Missy and Sue "Titanium"
(and Cynthia from Gore-Tex cheers us on)

Dream Loop

I had the day off from work on Thursday, and decided to take the opportunity to run a loop that has been brewing in the back of my mind for several years now.

Mile 23 ~ top of the Pinecone Trail.

A few years ago, I rode mountain bikes with a friend from the Guard Road near Brighton, Utah on the Crest Trail (well known in the Wasatch as one of the ultimate must-do trails) over to the Canyons Resort near Park City, then on the Mid-Mountain Trail, a trail that follows the 8,000 ft elevation line over to Park City, then up over the ridge back to the car.  We got waylaid in Park City Mountain Resort by a hail and lightening storm, and it turned into quite the epic adventure.  Thankfully, we both had jackets with us, but after huddling under a metal roof near the yurt half-way up the mountain in Park City, I talked my friend into continuing, for fear of being struck by lightening.

As we rode up the trail the final 5 miles or so, lightening cracked overhead and I remember my friend whimpering behind me something about, "We're gonna die out here... " and I called back over my shoulder to her, "At least we will die doing something that we love."  She was not impressed nor convinced.  I rode faster so that I would be out of earshot of her complaints.

When we finally got back to the car, we were quite frozen, and I recall fondly that we ate meatloaf, french fries and mashed potatoes with bottomless cups of coffee at the Silver Fork Lodge in Big Cottonwood Canyon.

I think that ride must have taken us the majority of the day, and honestly after running a similar route this past Thursday, I can't for the life of me figure out what took us so long, except for the fact that we must have been waiting out the thunderstorm for a good 45 minutes or so.

I ran the first 6 miles on Thursday with my friend Liz, who coached the Girls on the Run program with me this past Spring.  She also just ran the Speedgoat 50k race, a race that I helped organize this year and the previous 5 years, which is well know as a really tough trail race up at Snowbird, Utah.

Obviously Liz was not tired after her race last weekend, because we chatted easily moving up the trail, and I felt as though I might be holding her back!  Ahh, to have 20-something legs again.

After the trail split above Desolation Lake, I said goodbye to Liz because she needed to get to the airport to pick up her sister who was coming into town for a visit.  I spied a couple more runners moving up the ridge in the direction that I was going, and quickly caught them.  We ran together for the next three miles or so, until they headed back down into Millcreek Canyon, and I headed down to the Canyons Resort.  It turned out that they were training for the TransAlpine stage race, a sister race to the TransRockies that I will be doing next week with my friend, Sue.

The descent down into the Canyons seemed shorter to me than it had the previous trip several years ago, and I was happy to look at my watch see that I had averaged 13 minute-miles up until this point (about 9 miles).  Things started to get a bit warm on the east-facing Mid-Mountain trail moving across the Canyons, but I kept my thoughts on the fact that I would soon be at the Red Pine Lodge to refill my water bottles with cool water.

As I was running along this section of trail, I was passed from behind by a summer Patroller, out for a ride on his mountain bike with his yellow lab.  He would pass me again about 30 minutes later, and I decided that he must be doing laps with the dog with the aid of either the gondola or the chairlift.  His dog was really cute and well-behaved, and the patroller wished me a good run as he went past.

I got to Red Pine Lodge (mile 11.2) and dodged the walkers and hikers there (it's a popular stepping-off point for folks who don't have a lot of miles planned for the day, but want to take in the scenery) and bummed not only some water from the drinking fountain in the lodge, but talked the cashier into letting me fill a couple of my bottles with ice.  Aaaah... the cool water tasted really good.

Several miles down the trail, I was passed by a forty-something father (with a distinctive "Texas" riding kit on) and his tween-aged son.  We talked the local trails (they were visiting from Texas) and the heat, which he said "compared to Houston" was not really that bad.  I told him that I was at mile 16 of my 24, so was heading into the home-stretch.

We ended up leap-frogging each other for probably about 5 or six miles on the trail, and it was at about this point that I realized that since I had ridden the trail approximately 5 years ago, a newer section of the Mid-Mountain has been built, taking out the more technical ascent of Iron Mountain from the northwest.  Bummer that I realized this change in the trail only after passing the trail junction, because the east-facing Mid-Mountain trail was really starting to heat up (around noon).

I toughed it out, and also gave the Texas-tween a little pep talk too, because he was starting to whimper a little bit on the last climb up to the Iron Mountain junction.  The only sympathy he got from his dad was that he was allowed to walk his bike up the hill if he couldn't stay on (he did).  That kid was tough!  I don't think I could have done what he was doing when I was his age.  Of course, we didn't have bikes quite that nice when I was a kid, either.

I was really bummed that this new(er) section of the Mid-Mountain Trail bypasses the nice meadow at the south Iron Mountain pass, but was happy to experience an absence of crazed sage-grouse, who in years past have attacked my ankles and made me scream like a little girl to outrun them.

I got to the junction of Armstrong Trail and the Mid-Mountain just to the north of Park City Mountain Resort, and decided that it would soon be time to make up my mind on how I was going to ascent PCMR to get back over to the Guard Road.  It was my original intention to go past the yurt (the same one I had huddled under those years ago in the thunderstorm) and then proceed up to Shadow Lake near Jupiter, but then I passed the junction to the new Pinecone Trail (dubbed "the Gem of the Wasatch") and decided to check it out.

Before proceeding up Pinecone Trail I again met up with the Texas father-son duo, and a 50-something man from Missouri, who was on vacation and on a mountain bike rental.  The fellow from Missouri was super-psyched to be out on the trail and was proud to tell me of his health and strength compared to his overweight, smoker friends back home who "couldn't walk from their cars in the parking lot into the Post Office".  I was truly impressed by his good-nature, and after explaining a couple of his trail options to him, wished him well on the day.

I soon met up with a couple more bikers, one who was late 40s or so and one 50-something (it seemed to be a trend... ) who also seemed to be content to ride in his granny gear, staring at my ass, and asking me questions as I tried to find the strength to continue running up the 6% grade of the Pinecone Trail.

After a mile or so, I sent him on his way (politely, mind you) and put my head down for the climb.  Pinecone is, indeed a gem of a trail, but I couldn't help but think how nice it would be to ride *down* it on a mountain bike, rather than hike *up* it after 18 miles of running, especially after two ladies passed me going the other direction doing just that ~ biking downhill.

The climb is approximately 4 miles in length and tops out on the Crest Trail at the top of "Puke Hill".  About a half-mile from the top, a cute 30-something mountain biker came up from behind and said hello; asked me if I was training for something.  I told him about my TransRockies race in a week or so, and he knew it and sounded genuinely excited for me.  He told me I was looking strong and that I would certainly do well at my race.  His confidence in me helped give me the strength to run the last couple-hundred yards up to the top of the hill.

At the top, I saw the two guys from the start of the Pinecone Trail (the one who had been staring at my ass) taking a break in the sunshine.  The talker wished me well on my downhill back to the car and assured me that I was almost there.  I replied, "I can't wait! [to be back at the car]".  Indeed, one mile later, I was stopping my watch for the final stats...

On the day ~ 5hr 55 min, 24 miles (exactly), 3,940 ft elevation gain.

It was the perfect distance, speed, and amount of elevation gain to prep me for the TransRockies which starts on August 14th.  I was so happy to be able to do this loop that I had been thinking about for several years, and finish it strong.  It really is a Dream Loop with some tough climbs, smooth descents, and rolling single track nearly the entire way.  I felt so fortunate to meet so many great people on the trail this day.  I will fondly look back on this day for so many reasons, and for many years to come.

GPS link to my route and stats is here.