tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60614766724271959882024-03-05T04:49:50.849-05:00Run Like Ya Stole Sumthin'A Blog About Runnin' and Racin' and Livin'Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.comBlogger209125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-4204745148951829232016-12-02T10:11:00.002-05:002016-12-02T10:18:43.571-05:00I AM Without LimitsI am so baaaaack, running folks.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhawkGm1dpzOKLk-YDqpZBlaxln045vkCDDTY3iR5CFmHkt0w3dSCz8WnDt-6mL-T_6PuaiRFgbnpEx8YB-Y6AtIY-liZ4y-jAoDv1KpjIrmWTReEbd1Z5ePwmUUXzgNmSz-w7sBxsjYck/s1600/WOL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhawkGm1dpzOKLk-YDqpZBlaxln045vkCDDTY3iR5CFmHkt0w3dSCz8WnDt-6mL-T_6PuaiRFgbnpEx8YB-Y6AtIY-liZ4y-jAoDv1KpjIrmWTReEbd1Z5ePwmUUXzgNmSz-w7sBxsjYck/s320/WOL.jpg" width="320" /></a>My first in-person practice with <a href="https://www.iamwithoutlimits.com/greenville/">Without Limits (Greenville) </a>was last night. I was a little nervous and a little overly aware of being out of shape, but this group is nothing if not friendly and accepting of all levels.<br />
<br />
The workout included 12 x 100 @ 90% effort.<br />
<br />
I think I know what 90% effort is, so I went out at just under a full sprint. It felt FAST. It felt like I was blasting it. It felt like I must be doing this wrong, because I'm going faster than other people.<br />
<br />
So, instead of being like, woo hoo, this feels great, I had a totally misaligned thought about everybody else not doing them correctly.<br />
<br />
After about 3 or 4 reps, I went back to Matt to make sure I was supposed to do them at 90%, even if I thought I couldn't finish them all. Just checking.<br />
<br />
At some point, Matt mentioned something to the effect of me being fast. Boom.<br />
<br />
Apparently, I’ve been looking for a permission slip to be fast, and didn’t know it. Once he was like, huh, you’re fast, I was finally like, hey, maybe I<i> am</i> fast. Oh, I should definitely explore this! <i>Yessss…</i>.<br />
<br />
And I got really, really excited.<br />
<br />
On the drive home it dawned on me that I had run a whole lot of ultra’s because I believed I was old and slow and therfore relegated to the arena of ultramarathoning. Don’t get me wrong, I have big love for ultra’s, I will still do ultra's (albeit faster!), and I wouldn’t give up my VolState memories for anything in the world.<br />
<br />
But loving ultra’s and feeling like that’s all you can do are two different things. I’m now excited about running <i>fast</i>. Really fast. So fast it will blow my mind and everyone else’s, too.<br />
<br />
I wanna be the poster girl for <a href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/oldfolksgettingitdone?source=feed_text&story_id=1254006581382469">#oldfolksgettingitdone</a>.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc_VE1vm5f2Al4rambpcqn8cJeHUVClBvw_mQZyQq3mEpmvz5PnVd3T8bRFR7lQfkKaPcKuZ8uXqC3BbAQcq2b6O8F9GLo0yZ8UOD6oCWvXPlEFhxEOkVY-TGsVz_Q4TJiRar4apU11bA/s1600/ducks1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc_VE1vm5f2Al4rambpcqn8cJeHUVClBvw_mQZyQq3mEpmvz5PnVd3T8bRFR7lQfkKaPcKuZ8uXqC3BbAQcq2b6O8F9GLo0yZ8UOD6oCWvXPlEFhxEOkVY-TGsVz_Q4TJiRar4apU11bA/s400/ducks1.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<b>I am now fired up and serious about training. It feels awesome. </b><br />
<br />
And I know I’m on track (pun intended) because I have this feeling in my stomach like I’m one of the little ducklings in my facebook cover photo- like I just jumped out of my metaphorical running nest.<br />
<br />
Holy Shit- I jumped!! <i>AAaaaaaaagh!!! </i><br />
<br />
Fear….!! Excitement….!! Exhilaration….!!<br />
<br />
LIFE!!!<br />
<br />
OMG, what if I fail? What if I DON’T fail? Aaaaaaagh! <i>It’s so gooooood!!!</i><br />
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<br /></div>
Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-8243899864808911992012-09-18T01:01:00.000-04:002012-09-20T23:45:52.570-04:00LAVS 500K: Tales From the Road [ Part 2 ]<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAzpGAMwl95GxM_cy8onyyBFLd_5ng3e0-s6_3ELYPhyKSmN8gmneZl20ODdPS9laHbX4yAO782Pykv7m_Qvew1tfLupCG8WbthMYz3cmn2ATAg_FcXdcjykiaq1UXAiJYRUmF0FUS_jg/s1600/talesfromtheroad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAzpGAMwl95GxM_cy8onyyBFLd_5ng3e0-s6_3ELYPhyKSmN8gmneZl20ODdPS9laHbX4yAO782Pykv7m_Qvew1tfLupCG8WbthMYz3cmn2ATAg_FcXdcjykiaq1UXAiJYRUmF0FUS_jg/s320/talesfromtheroad.jpg" width="320" /></a><strong><span style="color: cyan;">Day 2: McKenzie to Parsons.</span></strong> <br />
Wherein I manage to...<em>Run all 58 out of 50 miles; eat lunch in a nice restaurant; receive homemade granola from total strangers (and inspiration from Carl); get questioned by the police (for the first time); purchase a soda from a space machine; meet Richard Westbrook along the never-ending road of construction;</em><br />
<br />
Days two and three were probably the two most memorable days of the entire run (Gee...even as I write that I wonder if it's a lie). I know I was still flying high from the overwhelming sense of adventure of just being at Vol State. I still could barely believe I was even <em>there</em>, amidst the company I was in. It's hard to describe the sense of absolute freedom this race gives you. It's intoxicating and empowering. I felt invincible!<br />
<br />
I woke up Friday morning and tried to get out of the room as early as I could. What should have been a 5:00 a.m. start became a 6:00 a.m. start. I was two blocks off-course, and had to go back to the 4-way intersection to start my day. I stopped at a donut store and ordered 2 apple fritters and coffee, and marvelled at the luxury of being able to eat like this. It's practically reason enough in itself to run Vol State.<br />
<br />
I then do an incredibly stupid thing. I arrive at the 4-way intersection where I (purposefully) went off course the night before in order to get to the motel, and I proceed to cross the street and start running. What in god's name made me think I was going the right direction is beyond me. But I felt <em>goood</em>, dammit! Fueled by fritters and hitting my stride at 4 mph, I had my directions in hand, and I was lost in my own world- reliving the memories from the previous day. To my credit, I looked at my directions occassionally. But each time that I did, I found no obvious landmarks with which to verify I was on course. <em>Imagine that.</em><br />
<br />
After a while (as in an HOUR) I came to a bridge with a fairly large creek running under it. I thought that <em>had</em> to be on my map. I started looking for blue on my map, anything that might show me what creek this was. Then it hit me. Oh... my.... god. What if I had gone the wrong way? Omg, omg, please say no, no, no...no...<em>Noooooo!</em> <br />
<br />
Shit. I totally went the wrong way. <br />
<br />
My thought process then went something like this:<br />
<br />
OK. <br />
Regroup. <br />
Be cool. <br />
Don't even think about it.<br />
Just head back and think of nothing. <br />
Don't even call in to Carl until you're back on course. <br />
Consider not even telling anyone about this. <br />
<br />
As soon as I turn back and start running, the first billboard ad I came to mocked me: "Brandon Heating & Air Conditioning in McKenzie...Just 4 Miles!!" Ha ha. Very funny. I'm sure someday this will make a great story. But for now, I am a little upset at how good I am running and how it is for absolutely nothing.<br />
<br />
I checked my watch more frequesntly as the 7:30 a.m. call in time approached. There was no way in HELL I was calling in and saying, "I've been off course since 6:00 a.m. but hey! I should be back at my STARTING POINT any time now." That was not going to happen. So I sped up even as I vowed not to call Carl until I could say I was on course and say something vague like "leaving McKenzie".<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEYkkFUb8fBknmE4eWaAvAdlYxD1GClsI-eg6pOOFWLTr9To6M3m_xnc41zeFIhRPXLam-KPT_BzDQiyaz_NA9EOhrtZJ06x109zQnOfmMBB_qjal-eEnIpl_1avdjDs2Ld9clsy83r40/s1600/PW+went+4+miles+off+course+still+caught+John+Price.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEYkkFUb8fBknmE4eWaAvAdlYxD1GClsI-eg6pOOFWLTr9To6M3m_xnc41zeFIhRPXLam-KPT_BzDQiyaz_NA9EOhrtZJ06x109zQnOfmMBB_qjal-eEnIpl_1avdjDs2Ld9clsy83r40/s320/PW+went+4+miles+off+course+still+caught+John+Price.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picture courtesy of Carl Laniak, who got a kick out of the <br />
fact I strayed off course for 4 miles and still caught John Price</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Finally, back at the 4-way intersection at 8:00 a.m. and I text Carl. I go in to the gas station and verify which way I should be running. I should have taken a left originally. Fucking-A.<br />
<br />
But here's another funny thing...I'm back on course for only about a mile, and I swear I see what has to be a Vol Stater up in the distance. Yes! The closer I get, the more I am SURE it's a fellow runner. Finally, I come upon John Price! <br />
<br />
We hang out for a bit and I do tell him of my misadventure, and I'm laughing about it, so, when a few minutes later Laz and Carl appear, I go ahead and tell them I went off course for 4 miles before I called in earlier. They seemed to enjoy hearing the stories of the runners, and I was happy to oblige. <br />
<br />
John and I ran for a while together. Ran, walked, mostly walked, and right around 11:00 am we headed into Huntingdon. He knew of a really good restaurant that most people overlooked. As we approached it, we saw it was closed but we decided to wait 15 minutes for them to open. It was so worth it! <br />
<br />
The next 7 hours or so were fairly uneventful. I can't remember if I had blisters already or not. I think I did, and I think it was this day where I spent a fair amount of time trying to find some bandaid combo to fix them up. But in the end, I gave up and when my feel let me, I would get some good running in, and when they hurt I would walk. <br />
<br />
I remember I was near Lexington, mile 92, as I was coming up to the 7:30 p.m. call in time. I had already decided I would push on to Parsons that night. When I texted in to Carl where I was and that I planned to keep moving, his response was awesome! He told me I was in 7th place!! He said I had covered more miles so far than he did on his first Vol State!! Holy crap!! He was cheering me on! I really felt great and I was so excited about moving on through the night. <br />
<br />
Around 8PM I was walking through a neighborhood and this guy came out from his house and he knew I was one of the Vol State runners somehow. It was amazing! He was offering me Gatorade, or food or anything I needed. He was so polite, too! He said his wife was there so if I wanted to come in and use the bathroom or get water, it would be OK. Then his wife came outside, carrying a bag of homemade granola and another bag of dried fruit. She gave them to me, and wished me luck in the race. It was so cool. <br />
<br />
I stopped at a gas station next, to load up on water and food for the next stretch. This time, I looked for beer ahead of time, thinking I would really want one when I was ready to stop and there may not be a convenience store open in Parsons near the motel. So I bought a 22 oz. Heineken (not much to choose from) and it fairly took up all the room in my pack*. I didn't have a lot of other fluids as I set out. <br />
<br />
As I left the gas station, I knew I was passing the 100-mile mark. I ran for a little while, but the sidewalk was awful to run on, and the road was full of traffic. It got frustrating. I decided to take a break and give Charles a call to update him on the adventures of the day. It was dark now, and I sat on the curb on the side of the road to call. Just as I was talking to Charles, a cop car rolls up to me. I instinctively knew the cop thought I was homeless, or possibly waiting for my dealer. I told Charles what was happening, and that I would leave him on the phone to listen in. <br />
<br />
Sure enough, this lady cop gets out of the car, and she has this look, like OK, let's move it along here bum lady. She's pretty aggressive and tells me to stand up and keep my hands where she can see them. She asks me if I have ID. I tell her yes, and that I'm in a 300-mile race across the state of TN. I ask her if she's seen any of the other runners come through. I show her the flag on my pack and tell her she can identify us by our U.S. flags. As I tell her more, including how I'm in 7th place overall, she totally changes her attitude, and seems all happy for me. She tells me I'm amazing and she wishes me luck.<br />
<br />
I move on, happily, through the night. <br />
<br />
<span style="color: #fff2cc;"><strong><u>VOL STATE 36-HOUR UPDATE</u></strong></span><br />
<br />
<div class="yiv2051508523MsoNormal">
<b><span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">From:</span></b><span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> Carl Laniak [mailto:carl.laniak@gmail.com]<br /><b>Sent:</b> Friday, July 13, 2012 9:31 PM<br /><b>To:</b> Volstate List; ultra List<br /><b>Subject:</b> vol state (36 hour) runner status</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Through an intricate and unpredictable series of choreographed footsteps, </span></div>
</div>
<div>
<div class="yiv2051508523MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">each of the runners has arrived at the exact spot where they should be at this point in space and time. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">This 36 hour update shows a list of beauty, to those who know of these things....</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">NO ONE has quit yet.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Unless you count the handful of times that each of the runners has vowed, internally, that they are *definitely* quitting!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;"></span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">But none of them has followed through on that promise to themselves.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;"></span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">They are all (from the first to the last) pushing beyond the point of discomfort now.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Searching, and finding, *something* out on the roads as they head into the dark of the second night.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">1) Paul Lefelhocz 107 down to sleep</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">2) Joshua Holmes 104 moving</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">3) Dan Fox 103 moving</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">4) Jay Dobrochewski 103 moving</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">5) Juli Aistars 100 moving</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">6) Thomas Mikkelson 96 moving</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">7) Psyche Wimberly 94 moving</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">8) Richard Westbrook 93 moving</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">9) Sal Coll 92 stopped</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">10) Jan Silverman 92 stopped</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">11) Sulaiman Seriki 92 stopped</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">12) Charlie Taylor 92 stopped</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">13) Abi Meadows 92 stopped</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">14) John Price 88 moving</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">15) Sherry Meador 86 moving</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">16) Rita Barnes 84 stopped</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">17) Dusty Hardman 84 stopped</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">18) Shannon Burke 84 stopped</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">19) Erika/Adam (now a relay) 83 moving</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">20) Fred Davis 80 moving thru clarksburg</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">21) Mike Melton 68 stopped</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">22) Diane Taylor 63 moving</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">23) Marvin Skagerberg 54 moving</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">24) Oprah 53 moving well</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">carl</span></div>
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<br />
Around midnight, I run out of food. Then water. Then energy. I am bonking big time. I am on a road that has all this construction and I kind of remember it from the van ride down- but the construction seems like it is going on for freaking <em>ever</em>. It's disorienting, and time just crawls by. I try to run, but walk far more than anything else. <br />
<br />
Up ahead I see something like a building and hope/ pray for a soda machine or some sort of vending machine. It seems many of the building along the road have them. It's not too far fetched to hope for one. <br />
<br />
I get closer, and I see that it IS a vending machine!! I cross the street and walk over to it. It's surreal how bright and shiny it is, here in the middle of nowhere. It's like it doesn't belong here. I fumble around for money and I finally- in what seems like hours later- get a dollar bill out and insert it in to the machine. But then I can't figure out what thing you do to order a drink. It's as if I'm looking at the machine but there's a delay in what's translated to my brain. I begin to wonder why this machine looks so new and shiny, like maybe technology's been updated since I last used a machine like this, and now I don't know how they work. Maybe it's super simple, I think, like advanced technology sometimes is. Yeah, you probably just push the giant picture of the soda you want. OMG! What if I do that and my hand goes right through the machine???? How cool would that be??? I bet I stared at the luscious pictures of Coke, Diet Coke, Aquafina, and Dr. Pepper for a very long time indeed as I contemplated just how to communicate to a Coke machine of the future.<br />
<br />
Wait, I thought. How do you communicate to Coke machines of the past? There's probably a clue there. Aren't you supposed to push a button or something and a coke drops down to the bottom of the machine? Oh, god, I hope <em>math</em> isn't involved- what if I have to match up the drink labeled D2 with a button labeled D2 in order to get Dr. Pepper? Shit. I'm not sure I'm up to that. <br />
<br />
I start laughing maniacly because on one level I'm aware I'm totally tripping on this machine, but I also know I can't do anything else but stay with it until I figure out how to get the Dr. Pepper out of the machine. I'm fairly desperate by now, so I start <em>feeling</em> the machine with my hands, hoping my fingers will run in to some clue. Just in case, I press down with my hands over the picture of Dr. Pepper. I half expect it to work. I marvel at how the plastic bends inward...but, alas, no drink is forthcoming. I wonder if this is how stupid people feel. I hope not. I hope they are blissfully unaware of their shortcomings. <br />
<br />
I no longer remember how I figured out how to get the drink out of the machine, but I finally did get a drink. I was so thirsty! It's funny that I never once thought to get more than one drink. I just sat there, enjoying the hell out of the one drink I managed to score. <br />
<br />
As if this weren't weird enough, suddenly I see someone walking across the street towards me! At first I was scared. Then I realized it has to be a Vol State runner! For a brief moment, I feel embarrassed and wonder if perhaps he's been watching me as I took the better part of the evening to purchase a soda. He gets closer, and suddenly I recognize Richard Westbrook! <br />
<br />
I'm so out of it, I don't really know how to handle this new social situation, so I kind of wander off, leaving him to figure the machine of the future out for himself. I do chuckle to myself just a little bit at how long it seems to take him. <br />
<br />
As we head down the road, we make small talk and this small stretch of road surprisingly contains one of the strongest memories I have from Vol State- The road we're on has a net elevation loss, and the stars are so bright against the night sky. I'm blown away by the beauty and simple pleasure of just walking down the road into the stars, with a soda and the night breeze to cool me off. I find out Richard is from Georgia, and I mention that Charles is from Georgia, too. Then I ask if he's with GUTS. I think I say something like, "It seems like most ultrarunners from there join GUTS." And he says, "I'm not much of a joiner." Now, it was just the <em>way</em> he said it. I thought it was the coolest answer ever. In that moment, I thought I knew all I ever needed to know about Richard Westbrook**.<br />
<br />
<em>To be continued.....</em><br />
<em></em><br />
Next up- I am bested by Sonic, then it rains and my feet are destroyed. Naresh saves my race.<br />
<br />
<br />
* <span style="font-size: x-small;">For those of you wondering why I didn't just drink that 22 oz. Heineken I was carrying around, well, I tried. It was just too disgusting to drink warm Heine in the state I was in. </span> <br />
<br />
** <span style="font-size: x-small;">Only later did I learn what a legend Richard is. He's so legendary, he's Schick-like:))</span>Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-88259790826024412762012-09-13T21:57:00.001-04:002012-09-13T21:57:42.998-04:00LAVS 500K: Tales From the Road [ Part I ]<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4SZsJD7NaDElZJI1FsLJmVMtveD93Ml6oY0BTifdS5iOPyuUojCQi5urNze0OPf5LBlKTc48feinggwWjmOFu16_3Lj9c8Ti1Dm6DBNRoNqEfgOxfcG6zUFve9i0VHTK8YGkZHws3bzU/s1600/talesfromtheroad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4SZsJD7NaDElZJI1FsLJmVMtveD93Ml6oY0BTifdS5iOPyuUojCQi5urNze0OPf5LBlKTc48feinggwWjmOFu16_3Lj9c8Ti1Dm6DBNRoNqEfgOxfcG6zUFve9i0VHTK8YGkZHws3bzU/s320/talesfromtheroad.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The following events take place between<br />
July 11 and July 21, 2012.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
First, a word about the "tales" you are about to read. You have to understand that <strike>I am totally sand bagging how good these stories are going to be</strike> a lot of stories from this race won't be funny to you, because the humor can only be appreciated from the perspective of one who is being pushed to the sheer edge by pain and fatigue. But to me, these stories will always be hilarious (or heartbreaking, or some other equally intense adjective), and in the re-telling, I know a few others will be out there chuckling to themselves and "getting it". That's enough for me. My goal in writing this is simply to be able to look back at these words one day, when the experience of Vol State 2012 is almost faded from my memory, and be reminded of what an incredible adventure and achievement it was to run 314 miles for the first time.<br />
<br />
So now that the bar is set appropriately low, let's set it a little lower.<br />
<br />
I'm not even going to try to capture events in the correct order. I'm not even going to try all <em>that</em> hard to get the facts right. Instead, what follows is my account of many of the most intense moments (both good and bad) that I experienced over 9 days on the road. <br />
<br />
Of course, the first memories were made days before the start of the race. The lead up to something this epic is epic in itself. <br />
<br />
Also, and worth noting - there is something strange going on between Charles and I and Laz's races. Take Barkley for example- Charles ran it last year and I ran it this year. We had this shared freakish mirror image experience- a year apart! You can't make this stuff up: We were both #1 on the weight list the day before the race. We both got in at the very last minute- and we got in because someone died (yeah, I know - <em> someone had to die for us to get in</em>). I was alone for the first 4 books this year, and finished a loop with Naresh and Matt Mahoney. Last year, Charles was with people for the first 4 books and finished alone. <br />
<br />
Coincidence? Maybe.... But on the eve of Vol State, I had to wonder if this strange link we have wasn't continuing with this race. It's as if the intensely surreal quality of preparing to board the ferry had somehow spilled over into Charles' life. I wish I could tell you the details of what happened to him on the eve of Vol State, but this one is not my story to tell- although it's a really good one! At the very least, it deserves a shout out to Julie for adding a heaping dose of <strike> drunken crazy</strike> surreal to an already over the top experience. Good lord! Someone check- was it a full moon on July 11?<br />
<br />
OK, more ramblings...about the genius RD's. From the very start, I marveled at how Laz is an absolute <em>master</em> at designing life-changing, consciousness-altering experiences...that just <em>happen</em> to be running related. What makes me say this, you ask? Well, it is simply pure genius to set up a 300-mile race and drive the runners from the finish to the start. Think about it: it takes <em>all day</em> to get there. As the hours roll on, no one can escape the fact that we'll all be on foot the next time we see the locales being discussed by vets as virgins try to take it all in.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioLY6kC_-NlbwCEqGes_147WpPECjLjSCozX449F9gNoqDdlBuCd5pb6e45dxbkjy0L7-tgBuA5_prGfsMRAm6BKQAa9bwPjGJyN7AfVt009Qlz9QEssobGrlWiaeyfETDbJMeqm7dN5U/s1600/313939_10151102137313708_1436963634_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioLY6kC_-NlbwCEqGes_147WpPECjLjSCozX449F9gNoqDdlBuCd5pb6e45dxbkjy0L7-tgBuA5_prGfsMRAm6BKQAa9bwPjGJyN7AfVt009Qlz9QEssobGrlWiaeyfETDbJMeqm7dN5U/s320/313939_10151102137313708_1436963634_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't let them fool you- this is what RD genius looks like</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
More genius RD strategy- you see Laz and Carl at least once a day for the first 3-4 days. You would not believe how good it is to see them! After about day three, you become completely aware that on some level you are <em>living</em> to see their faces again. On Day 5 I told them I now know what it feels like to be a dog: All of a sudden, they're HERE! They came back! They came back! They came back! Great rush of happiness, excitement and love! Oh, now they're gone again.<br />
<br />
Another great impression of genius I was left with about those two- They are out there in the very early miles recording race splits like it's the Kinney National Cross Country Championship or something. Seriously, the last time I had what could even be considered a near-race experience was back in 2009 when I tried to run down the only other over-40 female for an age group award. At my ability level, ultra's are extreme efforts, but are not races. At least before now. Yet, here I was, just a few miles in, feeling the distinct rumblings of competitiveness. I left Hickman, KY in 16th place (<em>16th? Damn! There's only like 23 people out here!! I better get moving!) </em><br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
And finally, on the drive to the start, I remember Laz saying Vol State is nothing like Barkley- that anyone with enough determination can finish it. I remember how relieved and encouraged I felt at hearing those words. Barkley is for strength-oriented runners who thrive on tons of climbing and rise to the challenge of orienteering. <em>Nothing in that last sentence remotely describes me.</em> Vol State, on the other hand, plays to totally different strengths. </div>
<br />
First, you don't have to be fast to succeed at LAVS (check). <br />
You have to be able to exist on very little sleep (check).<br />
You have to be able to sleep at the drop of a hat (check). <br />
You have to be extremely, extremely determined (check). <br />
<br />
In hindsight, and in my humble opinion, Vol State trumps Barkley as far as life-changing experiences go. But what's really cool is that they are completely different experiences- and chances are, if LAVS is your thing, Barkley probably isn't. <br />
<br />
If nothing else, I owe these two a debt of gratitude for bringing the race experience back to me as a reality. True or not, I am convinced I have what it takes to be a future King of the Road. Given enough things going right, and very few things going horribly wrong, I really believe I have a chance of being in the hunt for the win one day. As Dan Fox mentioned, with this beast, the race isn't even ON until mile 250.<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: cyan;">Day One: The First 400 Years</span></strong><br />
<em>I officially get on the ride. I discover LAVS as my calling in running. I adopt a hybrid strategy based on John Price's advice and my own stupidity. I get attacked by dogs. I get befriended by Tennesseeans. I cover 57 miles on day one and, yes, there is beer. </em><br />
<br />
As we set off to our first destination 18 miles away (Subway), the female unfriendly nature of this race in terms of bathroom opportunities becomes immediately evident. Nothing out here but wide open spaces and cars. You can be sure that before it was over, I found some pretty interesting ways to pee in public. Some successful, others not so much. All were pretty funny, though.<br />
<br />
Day One really didn't get interesting until night time. However, as I mentioned before, I was desperate to call Charles and find out how the drama of the night before had finally resolved. At this point, I was convinced Charles needed to be running 300 miles far more than I did. As we arrived at Subway for lunch, I called to check in with him and was hardly surprised at all when Daniel Tosh answered. <br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUvAqiKpymCs48Q159Szmu-zEwMVYmHSyjhOT7q0QqgKvsfYP5n8miQYDPXSwNUXaonAk-OXwwB2GKMNuGLAyDViZEuzAwHIrP8ANxmSsjBfSJlzjA7YA6cT3dxnE1T4PzqfIxTuFW-qw/s1600/311686_3948121093860_1551360915_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUvAqiKpymCs48Q159Szmu-zEwMVYmHSyjhOT7q0QqgKvsfYP5n8miQYDPXSwNUXaonAk-OXwwB2GKMNuGLAyDViZEuzAwHIrP8ANxmSsjBfSJlzjA7YA6cT3dxnE1T4PzqfIxTuFW-qw/s320/311686_3948121093860_1551360915_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daniel Tosh has begun narrating Charles' life. This is not good.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4KoWnNEhVBOn_zSbOnf2_7nAavAqHkYigqQLw3XEb_u-f8cIW_k25LZFNwKuB0Y8eGXHb_B4aCIQ_P7VxS9mdTGJ8jc4sd5-cTAZ8m9Z1cmfQQ1vU-gHfarYfS-QVhyAm6GC1iTRDPRs/s1600/283631_3948121373867_1676110199_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4KoWnNEhVBOn_zSbOnf2_7nAavAqHkYigqQLw3XEb_u-f8cIW_k25LZFNwKuB0Y8eGXHb_B4aCIQ_P7VxS9mdTGJ8jc4sd5-cTAZ8m9Z1cmfQQ1vU-gHfarYfS-QVhyAm6GC1iTRDPRs/s320/283631_3948121373867_1676110199_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
</td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mike Melton, Paul Lefelhocz at Subway</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Just 2 miles down the road, everyone checked in with the RD's at the 20-mile checkpoint.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq_WZoo40D6wRPTIejWGwIlXgcmFAGGinXE4kAU_ftvJWj3FsxoqPOYWiKAPgCIK_Dzlv0D88mssV2wmrGtLbTm_h2gR_HfTszCC3j3Oh8u2V0fgofcR-gBE_AhmDoXz5HNVi-R2oF6eM/s1600/paul+at+marathon+mark+right+before+us.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq_WZoo40D6wRPTIejWGwIlXgcmFAGGinXE4kAU_ftvJWj3FsxoqPOYWiKAPgCIK_Dzlv0D88mssV2wmrGtLbTm_h2gR_HfTszCC3j3Oh8u2V0fgofcR-gBE_AhmDoXz5HNVi-R2oF6eM/s320/paul+at+marathon+mark+right+before+us.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paul Lefelhocz in disguise at Mile 20</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7JWlLkg9hf0Tqs1nOqgp2TZGfVo9xlifXbcoXgv5PYZskSetdCsBrR2O7DwLCoyW77IcGx-370cz_7w2KuPUFsb_YtwksvhI-5MXY15ShBbSRw99CEgY_y6PsmqEyMdgBRb0atpV7gAY/s1600/marathon+mark+with+john+price.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7JWlLkg9hf0Tqs1nOqgp2TZGfVo9xlifXbcoXgv5PYZskSetdCsBrR2O7DwLCoyW77IcGx-370cz_7w2KuPUFsb_YtwksvhI-5MXY15ShBbSRw99CEgY_y6PsmqEyMdgBRb0atpV7gAY/s320/marathon+mark+with+john+price.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Psyche and John Price- disguised as each other at Mile 20<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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Around 4:00, I stopped at a Burger King in Martin and enjoyed the air conditioning, a chocolate shake, and the company of John Price, Dan Fox, and Sherry Meador. Pretty heady stuff for a newbie.<br />
<br />
Heading into Dresden that night, I was about 40 miles in to the race and it finally felt like the adventure had begun. I came upon this sign painted on the road and enjoyed following the arrows for a while. I was really enjoying running at this point. I love this time of day, and was moving well and feeling good. </div>
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<br />
I caught up to Sherry Meador and realized I had missed the pizza place described in my directions. Last chance for water for a good while. So, as we walked through a neighborhood I only half listened to Sherry as I searched the houses for a hose I could drink from. I finally found one, but the water tasted like 3 parts plastic hose and one part water. Really nasty stuff
. <br />
<br />
As I was drinking said nasty hose water, I noticed a guy in a truck had pulled over and was talking to Sherry. It turned out he was from the local radio station and he wanted us to call in to the station to talk about the race the next morning. He gave us his card and we would see him a few more times over the next few miles. <br />
<br />
On the way to Gleason, a mom in a minivan stopped and gave us ice cold water and oranges. This was my first experience with the kindness of strangers. It was fantastic! This family made us feel like rock stars!! I would show you their pictures, but alas, I lost my camera somewhere around the 200 mile mark. (Yeah, I just wanted to say, "200 mile mark". It makes me feel like a badass).</div>
<div align="left">
<br />
At about 8:00 p.m., I had to decide if I was up for another 15 miles or if I would stay put. That's where my "strategy" came in. I had asked John Price all kinds of questions about this on the drive to the start and he was wonderful about sharing viewpoints about how people do the race. He had some really good advice. One thing I was going to follow was to try to get 4-5 hours of sleep a night. <br />
<br />
Everyone approaches the sleep issue differently, but I tend to think you only hurt yourself by being too sleep deprived. I can function really well on 4-5 hours a night. It get tricky, though, because you need to decide every night if you can make it to the next stopping point in time to get 4-5 hours of sleep. If you think you'll roll into town at 2-4:00 a.m., it might be better to stay where you are that night. I just felt good in having some way to approach each day.<br />
</div>
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Since it was just 8PM, I thought I could easily push the extra 15-17 miles into McKenzie. I would arrive around midnight and check in to a motel for 4-5 hours of sleep. I set off to McKenzie with Sherrie Meador. Sherrie was having stomach issues as she will tell you she's prone to do. I didn't want to hurt Sherry's feelings but I was really just in the mood to run alone and try to get into a groove. I actually felt pretty good, and I just told her it was nothing personal. </div>
<br />
Around 10PM, I was running through a neighborhood in the dark. It was peaceful. I called to talk with Charles for a bit. I was aware of what a lovely memory I was going to have of this night, as I looked at the moon, enjoyed the breeze, and especially the company of the one I love.<br />
<br />
Not 5 minutes after hanging up, 3 dogs come <em>tearing</em> down a hill from behind a house. I immediately knew they were not protecting their territory or trying to warn me off. They were out for blood. They seemed to be medium sized terriers or something and they did not hesitate or slow as they got closer. and I was immediately completely freaked out. I started yelling and screaming and waving my arms but they just kept coming. The terror was magnified when I realized they had formed a circle around me! I swear to god, this seemed like it lasted 20 minutes- the dogs coming at me, and me fending them off and screaming like a crazy person. I have woken up in a cold sweat and screaming from bad dreams less scarey than this. <br />
<br />
Finally, I threw some water at them from my water bottle, then threw the water bottle itself and distrated them. I started running and they came after me, but didn't pursue for long. <br />
<br />
I thought I may die of adrenaline overdose, and I was shaking, and I was especially wondering how in the HELL no one heard me screaming or why came outside to see what was going on. I left that neighborhood screaming, "<em>What is freaking WRONG with you people....???"</em><br />
<br />
I probably had about 7 - 9 miles left before I could stop for a few hours in McKenzie. The adrenaline and previous 50 miles had both taken their toll, and I began the slow death march in to town. The last couple of miles were extremely long.<br />
<br />
As I exited the neighborhood which dumped me on to the street where I'd find a motel, I spotted a convenience store that was still open. It seemed about 2 blocks from the motel, so I decided to stop and see what fine craft beer they might be carrying. As I was in line paying for my barely drinkable hops, I struck up a conversation with a guy who seemed to be the buddy of the guy working behind the counter. They said another person had come in there about an hour ago and he asked me what we were doing. It was incredible to tell these guys we were in a race across Tennessee. <br />
<br />
I checked in to the motel, requested a 3:30 a.m. wake up call, and climbed the stairs to the second floor. I wasted no time at all in drinking a beer, getting a shower (cleaning my clothes by washing them while still on me) and getting right in to bed for whatever precious little sleep I could get. <br />
<br />
I was gonna need it. <br />
<br />
In just 3 hours, my future self wakes up, hits the road, and travels 8 miles in the wrong direction.<br />
<br />
<em>Stay tuned....</em>Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-79879309913609937252012-08-23T22:52:00.004-04:002012-09-13T19:52:24.074-04:00LAVS 500K - Part 3: They're Off (Way Off)<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<strong><span style="color: cyan;">This Race Is So Long It Takes 2 Days To Get To The Start</span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="color: cyan;"></span></strong> </div>
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Although the race start date is Thursday, July 12, if you plan on riding the bus to the start of the race, you need to meet up with all the other bus-riders at a private ranch in Georgia called Castle Rock on Wednesday morning. You then <strike>partake in a secret ceremony featuring Kool Aid.</strike>pile into a bus and travel as a group to the start. The traditional "last supper" is held Wednesday night, with the runners retiring to their respective hotel rooms afterward to await the ride to the Ferry the next morning. <br />
<br />
<span style="color: cyan;"><strong>A Word About Vol State Logistics</strong></span><br />
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I'm pretty sure I just made that sound easy, but let me tell you, getting your head around logistics for this one is a bitch. After two weeks of sweating out what the hell to put in my pack, I realized I hadn't thought about the fact that you don't want ANY extra baggage when you get on the ferry. I wondered, what do people wear to the "last supper"? Do they all wear what they're going to run in? They must, right?? I placed a quick call to Dusty Hardman to ask her about this aspecct of things. Given Dusty's detailed to-the-ounce <a href="https://docs.google.com/spreadsheet/ccc?key=0AkmrjKf0WfKWdFhyekZWa3JxaDVSdVlVU3BIRU5nYlE#gid=0">gear list</a>, if she didn't have the answer, no one would. However, all I remembered hearing was something about a "4 ounce dress" and "maybe go to the Goodwill..." Hmm. Note to self: must... work...on...listening...skilz. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX2C2zgxrnLJu2IZuS8aZ5OcBxm8CJtSPILwwVy-9V6qx6v4etpslGY0KL9XjW4QHT4w6L8TSxDRcUSArc4KhSMxGx6LgknXEH8j-HyhXT7taEZIvqKz0t5CKZRTxjqSl88eutyy5i9aY/s1600/union+city.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX2C2zgxrnLJu2IZuS8aZ5OcBxm8CJtSPILwwVy-9V6qx6v4etpslGY0KL9XjW4QHT4w6L8TSxDRcUSArc4KhSMxGx6LgknXEH8j-HyhXT7taEZIvqKz0t5CKZRTxjqSl88eutyy5i9aY/s320/union+city.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Psyche: "You are yankin' my chain, lady! That dress weighs at LEAST 12 ounces." </td></tr>
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Because I like you, and I think you're special, I'm going to tell you the <em>secret</em> to handling Vol State logistics. Are you ready? Are you <em>sure</em>? Because this is really important, so you should be ready, OK? OK, then. Here goes: Don't waste your time packing, planning, and preparing. <br />
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None of it will matter. </div>
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Just get yourself to the start with your ID and a credit card. And possibly your health insurance card- Nah, strike that. If you knew insurance would pay, it would be far too tempting to throw yourself into oncoming traffic just to make it stop. Better to not have a safety net.<br />
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<span style="color: cyan;"><strong>A Word About The RD's</strong></span><br />
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Seriously? It's Laz and Carl. Think about it. If Laz and Carl had a baby, it would look like this:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Vol State: Demon child of Laz and Carl</td></tr>
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<span style="color: cyan;"><strong>The Start: And They're OFF (...Way Off)</strong></span></div>
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To start the race with a simulated Ferry Ride simply added to the surreal quality of this race. Here's some pics of the photo ops and socializing that took place prior to the start.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This almost looks like the start of a "regular" race</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laz's Angels <br />
(Stop laughing! I said shut UP!!!)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sherry Meador, Me, Marvin the Awesome, and Dusty</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">23 Start...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture virtually <em>screams</em>, "I have no IDEA what I am in for."</td></tr>
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I'll end this post with a recap of the start by the RD's:</div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><u>Vol State Update 1: They Are Off (Way Off)</u></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">we got lucky.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times;">the ferry is sitting in the mud, </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times;">the crew is doing repainting and other maintenance tasks.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times;">they allowed us to board the barge to start.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times;">at 07:17:42 we started atop the riverbank in kentucky</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times;">and ran to the ferry.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times;">following a 20 minute "simulated" ferry ride,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times;">used for photos ops and socializing just like normal, </span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times;">the gates were opened,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times;">and the runners set out on their magnificent quest.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">there were 23 starters, and they passed by the mississippi river overlook in hickman in this order:</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /><span style="color: #fff2cc;">1) sal coll<br />2) richard westbrook<br />3) charley taylor<br />4) julie aistars<br />5) jan silverman<br />6) thomas mikkelson<br />7) joshua holmes<br />8) rita barnes</span><br />
<span style="color: #fff2cc;">9) dan fox<br />10) sherry meador<br />11) abi meadows<br />12) shannon burke<br />13) dusty hardman<br />14) mike melton<br />15) sulaiman sericki<br />16) psyche wimberly<br />17) ericka matheny<br />18) john price<br />19) fred davis<br />20) paul lefelhocz<br />21) jay dobrowalski<br />22) marvin skagerberg<br />23) diane taylor</span><br /><span style="color: #fff2cc;">in a little while we will go out to get the 20 mile splits...the last time we'll be able to sit in one place and watch all the runners go by.<br /><br />laz</span><br />
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Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-1527195311774604372012-08-22T23:42:00.000-04:002012-08-24T07:26:26.931-04:00LAVS 500K - Part 2: Getting To The Ferry<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQdHjatxXC4Jm6dYY6rVdN3t4DL6UHBBwNceg1ev6PkB7LXGTwP-DRZLZA7XLQbhg-s33ZgXimWBW2O1Fi1DJWhUbSc1g7LARxZ-CGDHQcub1x7EkHSiwlm6-pC3FYAMq21yKn-QY3Reo/s1600/581075_10150945568071771_1470799037_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQdHjatxXC4Jm6dYY6rVdN3t4DL6UHBBwNceg1ev6PkB7LXGTwP-DRZLZA7XLQbhg-s33ZgXimWBW2O1Fi1DJWhUbSc1g7LARxZ-CGDHQcub1x7EkHSiwlm6-pC3FYAMq21yKn-QY3Reo/s320/581075_10150945568071771_1470799037_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: cyan;">Figuratively and Literally - Getting to the Ferry Is Everything. </span></b> </div>
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Figuratively, my own journey to the ferry began when I started running. I say that because it was clear to me from the start that (ultimately), running is an expression of self transcendence. By its nature, running is about pushing beyond personal limits.<br />
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However, to be honest, I never really experienced the "transcendence" part of running until I began running ultramarathons. The reason for that, I believe, is that it takes something extraordinary, epic even, to truly push you to your limits. And part of that is that you can't be sure you can actually do it. <br />
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Literally, it took me about a year to get to the ferry. About this time last year, I sat reading <a href="http://runnareshrun.blogspot.com/2011/06/last-vol-state-500km-road-race-im-in.html">Naresh's Vol State race report</a>, just like you're reading mine now. In his report there is a quote from Laz, which, if you are the type of person Vol State calls to, will make running this race truly irrisistable:<br />
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">a run like this is not just a race</span></strong></div>
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">it can be (is) a life changing experience.</span></strong></div>
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">vol state is a journey thru personal hell</span></strong></div>
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">you WILL be discouraged.</span></strong></div>
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">you WILL feel self doubt.</span></strong></div>
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">you WILL want to quit.</span></strong></div>
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">but if you persevere.</span></strong></div>
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">if you dog it out, step by step.</span></strong></div>
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">you will find in yourself a strength you never knew existed.</span></strong></div>
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">the vol-state is not a time to be concerned about teaching the young or helping out friends.</span></strong></div>
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">you will need every ounce of your mental toughness just to reach the rock</span></strong></div>
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As soon as I finished Naresh's incredible account of his experiences last year, I knew I was in. I remember I texted Charles and said something like, "Sorry, honey, but I'm (we're) gonna have to take 10 days off in July." </div>
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Fast forward 11 months. </div>
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As Vol State neared, the race weighed heavily on me. The race was here, but I was in a position where I couldn't afford the expense of food and lodging for 7-10 days plus the time off. I struggled with the decision because given the circumstances, doing something of this magnitude wasn't the responsible thing to do. For a couple of weeks, I went back and forth with my decision.</div>
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Then, one day I came across an email from Jason Sullivan that had gone to spam that I had never read. It was from the Foothills List, and it was about Angela Ivory. Angela lost her battle with cancer in May after a long fight, and although I didn't know Angela on a deeply personal level, if you ever met her, or even knew of her- you could not help but be moved by <a href="http://runitfast.com/2011/11/14/the-heroes-of-our-sport-arent-usually-near-the-front/">her story</a>. In this email, Jason talked about how Angela had always wanted to run the Foothills Trail, and how he had told her he would run it with her. Now he would never share that victory with her. </div>
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Angela's desire to run the Foothills Trail is something I didn't know about her, and for some reason (even now) I am deeply moved by Jason's heart felt words. I started thinking. <em>Who knows what next year will bring. </em><em> </em>All I know is that THIS year I have an opportunity to do this race because Leopold is able to stay with his dad - who is also fighting cancer. THIS YEAR, I'm able to take the time off from work.<br />
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In that moment, I decided to refuse to look back and wish that I had done this race. That is not the life I want to live. Right or wrong, I decided to run and live with the consequences.</div>
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<em>Smartest thing I ever did, too.</em></div>
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Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-49081860257522112852012-08-21T23:16:00.000-04:002012-08-22T07:37:56.903-04:00LAVS 500K: Part I - An Adventure Of a Lifetime<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"There is no fee, no disclaimer, just 500K of open road. <br />
And the adventure of a lifetime. If you have what it takes to do it" -Laz</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;"><strong><em>It really is a selfish thing to commit a week to a race, but if you get the right thing out of it, it could be the smartest thing you ever did.</em> </strong>-Charlie Taylor</span><br />
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I've lost track of the number of times I’ve started to write this report. I’m virtually <em>desperate</em> to put this experience down on “paper” yet…I'm resigned to the fact there's simply nothing I can write that will do justice to the magnitude of this experience or convey what it took to complete this race. In fact, it's still hard for me to even believe I ran (and I use the term loosely) 314 miles (more like 330 miles if you count all the “bonus” miles). <br />
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In Linden on the morning of day 4, I was ready to QUIT. The rains that hit us on day 3 (Saturday), resulted in the worst blisters and most tender feet I've ever had. I couldn't put weight on my feet. I couldn't put a shoe on my left foot. Yet somehow, I ran 51 miles that day and I kept going...Day after day...after day...after day....I kept going. <strong>For six more days</strong>. <br />
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The daily mileage went something like this: <br />
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Day 1/ 57 miles to McKenzie<br />
Day 2/ 58 miles to Parson (50 miles to Parson +8 bonus miles)<br />
Day 3/ 21 miles culminating in a nervous breakdown in Linden <br />
Day 4/ 51 mile push to Columbia after pep talk from Naresh<br />
Day 5/ 49 miles ending with the wildest night of all in Wartrace<br />
Day 6/ 29 miles and a decision to take on crew. And by crew I mean Charles.<br />
Day 7/ 22 miles to Monteagle<br />
Day 8/ 26 miles to Kimball<br />
Day 9/ 14 miles to finish<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs-nWZN4F-cNR-YPXydgbCZfUdkWD4KiErMvwbsenPjR9lT1VJofmKXEh95mOY6JXC69EIwgbYmuGtNYdtU1Ye6PjC4lerBHhIa4NpC9dkRTv2X_aZBn1URjrfipAb5fnXrvpGFXozCk4/s1600/309330_10151113271738708_852958148_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs-nWZN4F-cNR-YPXydgbCZfUdkWD4KiErMvwbsenPjR9lT1VJofmKXEh95mOY6JXC69EIwgbYmuGtNYdtU1Ye6PjC4lerBHhIa4NpC9dkRTv2X_aZBn1URjrfipAb5fnXrvpGFXozCk4/s320/309330_10151113271738708_852958148_n.jpg" width="213" /></a><br />
I ran the last 70 miles or so without shoes- <em>without shoes!</em> THAT'S how wild <em>this</em> story is.<br />
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<span style="color: #fff2cc;"><em><strong>Those highs make you feel like you can ride them right to the rock. The lows like you will never feel better and the rock is a million miles away.</strong></em> - Fred Murolo</span> <br />
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In the weeks since Vol State, I've had time to digest the experience for the most part. Vol State is like the most intensely joyful and inspiring running experience you've ever had combined with the funniest running thing that's ever happened to you while you're running the most painful, grueling and disgustingly disappointing race you've ever run. And it goes on for a WEEK.<br />
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It's been incredible to read the other runners' accounts and race reports. They are all so good, and are such a source of inspiration. They confirm that indeed I am part of an experience that very few people will ever share. They confirm that it really was as wild as I thought it was.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPyg5opA1rUq9mORo_FQx82qkLpqJIqL-O9jPeRpWZ-ZgNwGS94evNCjpxatDsGQcTt-Qe9wJtShEFEZuLU0vJImNUW5e-oi-dOZGFR9bH2E7yADq3nYz-pSgYqn3_ziQvMU1X6zGqEK4/s1600/555085_10151113278858708_1078939562_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPyg5opA1rUq9mORo_FQx82qkLpqJIqL-O9jPeRpWZ-ZgNwGS94evNCjpxatDsGQcTt-Qe9wJtShEFEZuLU0vJImNUW5e-oi-dOZGFR9bH2E7yADq3nYz-pSgYqn3_ziQvMU1X6zGqEK4/s320/555085_10151113278858708_1078939562_n.jpg" width="213" /></a>In his race report, the winner of this year's race, Dan Fox (all Hail! King of the Road!!) likens Vol State to a Mandan Tribe ceremony called the Okipa.
He succinctly answers both "Why?" and "How?" when he talks about Vol State as a means to "being the Hero in a myth of your own making"<br />
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He perfectly describes the race when he says, "the loose organization of Vol Sate provides just the right proportion of freedom/safety to go hard. And a defined goal: get to the Rock as fast as possible - provides the context. The back roads of Tennessee make a fitting Underworld in which to do battle. Add in the searing weather elements and the stage is set for epic performances."
<em>Indeed</em>.<br />
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A more epic road race cannot be found. Nor can I imagine that a more <em>intense</em> race experience exists. <br />
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The challenge of this race report is to tell both my story and the story of the race. I find it hard to come up with a cogent format in which to relay the race and my own personal tales of the road- they are so intertwined. <br />
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So, what will follow in the next few posts is a sadly inept accounting of the race (which relies heavily on Laz and Carl's updates to the various ultrarunning lists), along with the highlights and lowlights of my own personal experience. It is a long, long, story- and by the time you are done reading it, it will seem as long as the race itself. <br />
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But it's a <em>good</em> story. <em>They</em> are good <em>stories- </em>and great experiences. Ones I will cherish for the rest of my life and always look back on with fondness, and a sense of longing. <br />
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For I now know that life will never seem quite as alive as it does at Vol State.<br />
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Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-88343491594218044942012-07-26T01:09:00.001-04:002012-07-26T01:09:08.664-04:00Not the Vol State Update You're Looking ForVol State has come and gone. If you haven't heard, I made it to "The Rock" in Castle Rock, GA in 9 days, 4 hours, 1 second in what was nothing short of an epic, and incredibly meaningful experience.<br />
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My report is on its way. In the meantime, here are the race results sans report (via Runitfast.com):<br />
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<a href="http://runitfast.com/2012/07/23/the-last-annual-vol-state-500k-results-2012/">The Last Annual Vol State 500K Results (2012)</a><br />
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All hail, King Dan! And congrats to everyone who toed the line at the ferry in Dorena Landing, Missouri. You have all inspired me and touched my life in a way I will never forget.Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-83768759664964083062012-05-17T22:09:00.000-04:002012-05-18T13:25:56.593-04:00No RegretsI was in Barnes and Nobles earlier this week with Leopold. It's been awhile since I've been in a book store and I automatically gravitated to the sports section to see if there were any new, interesting titles about running, or better yet, ultrarunning. <br />
Then I had to laugh because I realized that I am so far beyond turning to a book for something new and exciting to absorb about running that it's not even funny. Are you freaking kidding me? I was in the BARKLEY last month. I'm gearing up for VOL STATE, a 500K across Tennessee in JULY. That's right...I'm one of <em>those people</em> now. There is nothing a book can ever offer me again. How wild is that?<br />
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Although I'll never abandon the core principles of training, gone are the traditional training plans- at least for the runs I'm really excited about. Good thing, too, because where the hell would I find a training plan for a 500K? You train for that by doing it. <br />
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Which brings me to my subject matter. Look at this wild man:<br />
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On Saturday, Charles and I had the complete privilege of sharing the trail with <a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=2605904" href="https://www.facebook.com/sean.blanton.5">Sean Cien Fuegosthechisel Blanton</a> on one of the most difficult sections of the AT (Fontana Dam to Clingman's Dome) as he attempted his speed record. 33 miles of incredible trail with huge climbs and some great views on the ridge lines... What an adventure! <a href="http://www.unc.edu/~mkirk/scar.html">SCAR</a> is the real deal and we didn't even cover 1/2 of it. <br />
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We knew we were in for a special day when we first set out, and as we walked across the bridge we met this Belgian dude. He looked like a serious (sponsored by New Balance) athlete and he was doing a speed workout. We asked him if he had come from the trail (or something like that- Run Bum is just amazing with people. He can strike up a conversation with anyone). Anyway, the guy was strikingly modest and he casually says, "No..Just a training run." <br />
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"What are you training for?" Sean asks. And this is the part that I'll always remember- Without hesitation, and with incredible fire in his eyes he says, "A four minute mile." The flash subsides and I wonder if I ever saw it in the first place. He matter of factly tells us, "I ran 4:01 last year, so I will train for sub-4, hoping to run 4 minutes flat." Holy crap, I thought. I fully believe he will do it. "Damn. This is going to be a great day." <br />
And it was. <br />
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Charles "paced" our friend the entire section of trail, while I went in about 4 miles at Fontana Dam and then turned around. I took the car over to Clingman's Dome and ran in 7.5 miles to bring in food and water. It was a long day, but the fact we were helping Sean (if only by keeping him company and trying to keep his mind off his stomach and GI problems) made the day feel special. <br />
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It was an absolute nightmare to climb the hill to Clingman's Dome. It's like being smacked down by the Hulk (yes, I just saw The Avengers). <br />
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The weather had turned cold and windy and ugly, and we were all freezing and exhausted. There was no way Sean could cover the section to Newfound Gap and we all crawled in our vehicles- done for the day, cared for and tended to by Denise. Exhausted but grateful for the experience.<br />
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It's been a long time since a run took it out of me like the 23 miles I ran that day did. I was slumped over in the car asleep not 5 minutes after we left the parking lot. I felt bad because Charles had run 10 more miles than I had AND he had to drive. <br />
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All I can say is that I am grateful beyond belief to have met the people I have through ultra running and to continue to be connected to a sport so pure- it truly brings out the best in people. Sean Blanton is a talented runner, but I admire his adventurous spirit- how he truly lives life fully, on the edge, with no regrets.<br />
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You'll get it next time, little brother. No worries.<br />Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-85790809259735963632012-04-26T00:06:00.003-04:002012-04-26T18:24:27.837-04:00Black Mountain Campground to Mt. Mitchell<div style="text-align: left;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Mitchell Scenic Drive</td></tr>
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Saturday's run with Charles was the perfect adventure run. Our only goals were to run "somewhere out towards Mt.Mitchell" and to "be out for about 6 hours or so."</div>
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We left the house late, around 1:00 p.m. (assuring some night running) and decided to try a new driving route to Mitchell. From Chimney Rock, we took Hwy 9 towards Black Mountain and picked up US Hwy 80 for about 15 miles. This is a beautiful drive, and later I discovered it's part of the DOT's newly designated Mt. Mitchell Scenic Byway. Cool.<br />
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The drive was an adventure in itself, being a new route. We were rewarded with surprisingly great scenery, including the discovery of Tomahawk Lake. On a beautiful day, I have to say it was just nice to be out driving. Like me, C likes to drive around aimlessly and enjoys making road "connections". </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdQDSiMPnaZgftON1LfKNV8cpaZmDlh9Lx5r1cTs1UGF_DGbYoBFoE4mwfA3Mt8bW8sdsYvuTLYnbOJPPIDoyM_QWnUAXZODSPgoi0Q7q19pTB83umYqSQD1x5pQjGCQqmtL-01z2vReY/s1600/greenknob.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdQDSiMPnaZgftON1LfKNV8cpaZmDlh9Lx5r1cTs1UGF_DGbYoBFoE4mwfA3Mt8bW8sdsYvuTLYnbOJPPIDoyM_QWnUAXZODSPgoi0Q7q19pTB83umYqSQD1x5pQjGCQqmtL-01z2vReY/s320/greenknob.jpg" width="320" /></a>Once at the BRP, we pulled off at the Green Knob Overlook at Milepost 50.4. Our plan was to hike up to the firetower, descend down to the South Toe River and the Black Mountain Campground, and then ascend more than 3600' in elevation over 5 1/2 miles to reach the Mitchell summit. This is one of the toughest climbs in the region.</div>
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The trail to the firetower is not obvious from the overlook, since there is no signage. You have to walk about 100 yards north (turn right from the overlook) and look for the signpost for the trail on the opposite side of the road. The narrow 1/2-mile trail gains 340 feet in elevation. It has a yellow blaze and can be overgrown in areas. Since it is somewhat hidden, the trail is not used by many hikers.<br />
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The panoramic views from atop the tower are certainly worth the 1/2 mile hike from the Parkway. The tower provides the best viewing point of the rugged and tall Black Mountains range, including Mt. Mitchell. The fire tower, atop the 5,080-foot Green Knob Mountain, was built by the U.S. Forest Service in 1931. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tower can be seen as you drive north on the BRP</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking westat the peaks of the Black Mountains, the highest in eastern America with <br />
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Mt. Mitchell (6,684 ft) on left, Mt. Craig (6,647 ft) and Big Tom (6,580 ft).<br />
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The Black Mountains are underrated. They are more than a <em>billion</em> years old and contain 16 peaks over 6,000 feet tall. Six of the ten highest peaks in the eastern US are found here- including Mount Mitchell, with an elevation of 6,684 feet. <em>Under...rated.</em><br />
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What a setting for an adventure run! </div>
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We descended down to the Black Mountain Campground easily enough, adding miles by taking the longer loop trail. We stopped and had a bite to eat at the bridge entering the campground.<br />
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As you go through the campground, it's a little difficult to tell where to pick up the trail to Mitchell. We saw a sign for a trail to a <em>waterfall...</em>so we had to take that excursion. Setrock Creek Falls is very cool and easy to access. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Setrock Creek Falls- Between Briar Bottom and Black Mountain Campground</td></tr>
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Eventually, we made our way to the trail indicating the Mitchell summit was 5.5 miles. This was a tough, relentless climb. It's deceiving. About midway up, I bonked. However, after some food and rest I came around pretty quickly. <br />
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We met up with the old Mitchell approach trail at the junction of Comissary Ridge and knew we only had about 900 feet to go. Midway up the trail we saw signage for the Balsam Nature Trail, and we didn't take the trail to the right...yet still ended up arriving at Mitchell via the Balsam Nature Trail. I've approached Mitchell from this same starting point, and fail to understand what turn I take that puts me on the Balsam Nature Trail...a mystery.</div>
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Finally, we summit Mt. Mitchell, and it's totally fogged in and it's gotten very cold. Then it starts raining! We were definitely taking the road back to the car.</div>
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This was the most interesting part of the run. It was so foggy and rainy as we left the park it was a little bit scarey. We had to wonder if the winds were going to stay kicked up. because we were both freezing. Then thunder and lightning got our attention...</div>
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It was like this the whole way back, although we did run most of the way which felt good. </div>
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We got back to the car almost 9 hours later, and endured fog so thick you couldn't see through it for almost all of the ride back. </div>
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This was a very tough 25 mile loop, but one I will come back and run again. It was a great reminder about how fickle the weather can be at Mt. Mitchell. </div>
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Good times!</div>
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</div>Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-76910856536555548942012-04-12T22:37:00.011-04:002012-04-13T10:34:56.069-04:00Barkley: What Was I Thinking?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfLPB75-jLu_Sc2Zr0eRMfvB2BvJ8HZ_x87SS0hnyZubwaiLqG5P-d5eNG31xrhEAUHbcaeUTbsAH3iaYfZAlXTPJrnKltNH8GgAs5zFSXyjrpef6d8kA1pPA7S0KDYzxlxJ0VyOocIXc/s1600/Psyche+Wimberly.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 256px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730178009847062562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfLPB75-jLu_Sc2Zr0eRMfvB2BvJ8HZ_x87SS0hnyZubwaiLqG5P-d5eNG31xrhEAUHbcaeUTbsAH3iaYfZAlXTPJrnKltNH8GgAs5zFSXyjrpef6d8kA1pPA7S0KDYzxlxJ0VyOocIXc/s320/Psyche+Wimberly.jpg" /></a>I realize now it was probably a mistake to go in to work the day after getting home from Barkley. I mean, how do I reconcile the fact I broke IN to a prison in the dead of night with this stack of papers on my desk?<br /><br />It’s like Barkley switched on my prehistoric brain and I'm having trouble switching it back. I can readily deal with the possibility of falling off a cliff while being lost “out there”, but answering a phone? What planet does THAT happen on? I’m staring at this box of highlighters on my desk like they're moon rocks. What ARE these things? And when will I remember why I find them necessary?<br /><br />Like so many others, it will take me a while to “normalize” and absorb everything that happened before, during, and after Barkley. Barkley changes you, and it’s hard to force yourself to put everything in to words when you’re still trying to understand it. But you have to weigh that against the fading memories that will be gone forever if you don’t act.<br /><br />Now, more than ever, I know this is an event you have to experience to appreciate. To attempt one loop is to know not how difficult, but how IMPOSSIBLE this event truly is. And I say this even after watching not one but THREE people finish this year, and six people complete the “Fun Run”.<br /><br />As for my 1-loop experience, I found myself scraped, alone, lost, found, befriended, and continually tortured in seemingly endless ways. I climbed almost 11,000 feet, descended the same amount of treacherous downhill, jumped off a cliff, bush wacked through briars, creeks, rocks and trees, located 11 books hidden in the woods, and found my way back to camp in a 18 hour and 46 minute timeframe of seriously difficult effort.<br /><br />I was rewarded with a spectacular DNF.<br /><br />It was the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=he3cMiZVq0o">best day EVER</a>.<br /><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#33ccff;">Foothillz Foolz, Meet April Foolz</span> </strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRG12CFpws8uzyEoHLiIXrwmveUBFi6_1NsfIPMin77t-b2cdiCF7qYEng4Lkcg5uqcB8wYRUzkgeWGz1W_Ct9xuIYy4AvpSNuIGRWpjV5fPst1nGpihUGsfkSvoElaI91doSXFiI_vj8/s1600/Copy+of+DSCF3751.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729877904123653458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRG12CFpws8uzyEoHLiIXrwmveUBFi6_1NsfIPMin77t-b2cdiCF7qYEng4Lkcg5uqcB8wYRUzkgeWGz1W_Ct9xuIYy4AvpSNuIGRWpjV5fPst1nGpihUGsfkSvoElaI91doSXFiI_vj8/s320/Copy+of+DSCF3751.jpg" /></a><br />Charles and I drove up to Frozen Head State Park on Wednesday for Saturday’s race. In contrast to last year, we arrived to a completely full campsite- and the entire vibe was different than last year. There were a lot more people, including a documentary film crew.<br /><br />We were starting to get worried about where we'd be staying when Carl Laniak and Co. drove by on their way out to dinner. Wouter Hamelink was in the van and he solved our problem by kindly offering us a place to pitch our tent at his campsite. Later, we invited Thomas to join us as well ('cause everyone knows it's not a party 'til the 'Snail arrives).<br /><br />Wouter is awesome. His name is more difficult to pronounce than mine, so I like him based on that alone. But after just a few minutes with Wouter, anyone would love this guy.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7SPy12yjYLzTHJcp5ZKe0_XkOvmAV_BMoqW71xUl0MjASNp4ZVJ0Vxg5rvxLQoW-hizJesGsDiDrq1423jwOwDDhKNeoKWXnytzZ-NVMpUfa-Jw8Vm9R4D7tFuxjJ690DxCfa5YpxAzI/s1600/DSCF3764.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730247224071891618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7SPy12yjYLzTHJcp5ZKe0_XkOvmAV_BMoqW71xUl0MjASNp4ZVJ0Vxg5rvxLQoW-hizJesGsDiDrq1423jwOwDDhKNeoKWXnytzZ-NVMpUfa-Jw8Vm9R4D7tFuxjJ690DxCfa5YpxAzI/s320/DSCF3764.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color:#33ccff;"><strong>Weight List Therapy</strong><br /></span>I remained #4 on the weight list for weeks. However, with last minute weight list activity, Travis Wildeboer was #1 and I was #2 going in to Barkley week. By Friday, Travis was in and I was next up. I was in exactly the same position Charles was in last year (<em>what are the chances</em>?).<br /><br />Being #1 on the weight list is horrible for obvious reasons. In fact, the weight list concept is just horrible. I mean, it’s hard enough to train through the winter knowing you’re actually IN the race. Try training for the hardest thing you possibly may ever attempt while not even knowing if you’ll get in. Then sit back and watch your motivation climb and descend faster and farther than you ever do. It’s not fun.<br /><br />Needless to say, my head was not in an ideal place upon arrival at FHSP. Up until about 5 weeks out, I had trained fairly well (or so I thought. It's funny how that changes post-Barkley). But suddenly <strike>I wrote a <a href="http://http//www.doctors-management.com/Cart_Product.asp?CatID=71&ProdID=412">BOOK</a>!</strike> work overtook everthing in my life and I was working 10-16 hours a day. My training fell apart. However, I wasn't all that worried - I actually didn't believe I was going to get in.<br /><br />Now it looked as if I might just get in, afterall.<br /><br />Talk about race anxiety. With more than 2 days to stew in the race anxiety of all race anxieties, I mentally fell apart. I focused on my lack of training, on how I "sacrificed" my aerobic base for less, climbing-specific miles and then lost even that fitness. I doubted the training I did, and the training I didn't do. I doubted my decision not to drop, and basically my sanity in general. Things spiraled downward from there . It got ugly.<br /><br />By Thursday night, I was in such bad shape and was bringing such negativity to <strike>Charles</strike> everyone around me, I finally forced myself to stop focusing on the anxiety itself and trying to find reasons to justify it, and looked within for answers. I asked myself what was truly going on. Surely all this commotion isn't just about some dumb race??<br /><br />Of course not. The race was is just a perfect excuse for long hidden fears to arise and take hold. What a nightmare...Barkley had become a perfect storm of fear.<br /><br />Not to spend too much time on this, but as a race experience, this was a good one. Barkley raised the bar of fear so high for me that it facilitated a breakthrough. I was able to see the fear for what it was - in this case a perfect example of how losing my mom at a very young age created a certain insecurity within me that plays out when I'm confronted with new (and fearful) situations in my life. The best thing about seeing this was that I immediately knew the solution to the problem. My takeaway is this- the answer is never to think smaller, or be or do less, but to see the fear for what it is and do what I need to do <em>anyway</em>.<br /><br />Uh huh…and you thought this was just gonna be a race report about some really tough trails with names like Testicle Spectacle and Rat Jaw. Instead, you get Barkley <em>therapy</em>. You can thank me later.<br /><br />As it is with many of my "big" insights, I feel kind of dumb when the realization sets in. It always seems so obvious. I will say this, though- as anyone who has survived early childhood tragedy knows, things don’t become available for healing in the order you always expect them to. You take what you can get when you can get it, even if it's at the Barkley Marathons. I'm just thankful that there has been as much grace in my life as there has been tragedy.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#33ccff;">Oh, $hit. I'm IN<br /></span></strong>So, I got in to the race at about 9:30 Friday night. There were rumors that <a href="http://http//www.allwedoisrun.com/">Luis Escobar </a>would not be arriving at Barkley as expected. He supposedly was involved in the search party for Caballo Blanco (Micah True) - of "Born To Run" fame. Apparently, Caballlo had gone out for a 12-mile run and never returned. Sadly, the rumors were true. Caballo was found dead, apparently of natural causes, on Saturday. Read the story <a href="http://http//running.competitor.com/2012/03/news/micah-true-found-dead-in-new-mexico_50100">here</a>.<br /><br />The story of how I got in to the Barkley stands alone, but on a personal note, it got even better when I arrived home and googled "luis escobar". I wanted to know more about the runner that enabled me to get in to the Barkley. Perhaps I would "friend" him on facebook and send him a thank you message. Guess what? As soon as I read a little about him, I was like, "Oh! <em>That</em> Luis Escobar!!" I know exactly who he is- because we both grew up in Central Coast,CA (he's from Santa Maria and I'm from Arroyo Grande). I knew his name as a x-country phenom when I went to Arroyo Grande High School in 1981-82. Wild, huh?<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#33ccff;">Get</span><span style="color:#33ccff;">ting Ready </span></strong><br />In theory, the race could actually start in a few short <em>hours</em>. Although, Charles and I didn't really think it would- not with a new first section that sounded kind of dangerous, and with a film crew here. But you never know...<br /><br />Now that I had my head firmly screwed on, I got my things ready and went to bed early. Surprisingly, I slept really well. We heard the conch shell blow right after 8:00 a.m., and I went to work getting ready. What a difference a day can make! I was totally focused and ready to make the very best of my situation. I was calm but excited.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730170325508499634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc41sJbi8ZUKWlW1bjFsq4Hi0grRrc0dNnUfsmmkmhMMQit5RaSEfiBnV436AjDjf-FFSUc4RRX2SnjQB7Dx8Ww_c5WIZ1fUFe0ncUp_q0zQoiX2BqCC3CL2cTztqe44uLwD58Zee7pOY/s320/DSCF3768.jpg" /> <strong><span style="font-size:78%;">Georgia Snail & Psyche- Getting Ready (to each his own)</span></strong><br /><br />Now that I was in the race, I wanted to be included in Geoffrey Baker's "<a href="http://http//www.geoffreybakerphotography.com/?page_id=1719">portrait project</a>" and I went over to his tent to have my "before" portrait taken.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730170299545961506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-DQMGyFCL3pTKVCbad7jB7r_nP9_uOaL8cr6JdEy6yDXUHnqZdym8SJhmWVzIGN-78YpqVbI7WKUSKjk5LiNZ4MhYegjKwGnxHsAD0dvw9mrM3JHMH1HzRpxMfygy4dvN7cKn7qpJQDg/s320/DSCF3765.jpg" /> <strong><span style="font-size:78%;">Geoffrey S. Baker Photography Tent</span></strong><br /><br />Before I knew it, I was milling around the yellow gate with the others as if in some surreal dream where the hardest race on the planet is begun with the lighting of a cigarette.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730183005608025442" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg54i8_V1jrtgtAEGmP6BFMmAivBsnC2PQpcp4NS4c1IaymoLDiFFUbyGTZJuOYD39-SO7cgmVSss9PZ7mzZtFTHotayWnUxjdXTV6nt9K1SrcOtUSAg9P5ILTFZFd3F3sVQYD5YS6eDFw/s320/DSCF3777.jpg" /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730183018207266882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmt2s8aCsWHkDDjZLrY_WfLlbIB60_0pjTQAx4ok9I6ockgZeCGHJ30HemDtZ5s1ZX9b4HTRuG77vaKjOJ5KI3RNfqMM5voRH8atlkhaB7vr2cOWpo8i_q6i-37UaT_7Sw5Lx4tJ71OVU/s320/cigarette+light.jpg" /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 239px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730183001016164306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHdaEgqXF2iGr95AV5lyN_T6d1Yt9Um8zNjz1VJYlRYgd8bMttqJO16moa67Paqq1qT8MtB40eFkNuXYnlua9Hk_visp4SHBPhYuMuyim-FprEIrSjZRcECcbAlnB7d2VB6FlSQ6IFseI/s320/courtesy+John+Price.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:78%;"><strong>Witness the typical all-out sprint start. Ultra style.</strong></span><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#33ccff;">Book #1- Pillars of Death, the Flume of Doom, and Hiram's Gambit<br /></span></strong>Perhaps I should have mentioned this at the start. Finding books 1 and 2 at the Barkley is the <em>most exciting thing I have EVER done</em>. I truly don't have words to describe the heart-pounding adventure this was.<br /><br />Earlier today, I was walking down our road with Leopold and we startled some deer. They ran through the forest and across the road, and the very last deer jumped all the way across the road from the forest in one leap. You could feel his fear and adrenaline.<br /><br />It was like that.<br /><br />But not right way. Immediately after starting, I noticed nothing was going as I expected. I assumed everyone would take off and I would be hard pressed to keep up. My "plan" was to make sure I did not lose sight of Frozen Ed and/ or Leonard Martin. Instead, both of them were well behind me, and I found myself leading a small group that included Joel Gat and Tim Hardy. We all walked up the first couple of steep miles of Bird Mountain "candy ass" trail in a group.<br /><br />Joel had Laz's instructions out and it seemed the group I was in was paying close attention, even while talking all the while, so even though I was "leading" this little group, I wasn't really paying too much attention myself.<br /><br />Soon, we arrived at the top of Bird Mountain and turned left on to the Cumberland Trail (a new section this year). I was curious about the "Pillars of Death" I heard about in camp the night before. Thomas had been up here exploring the trail the day before, so I knew I wasn't looking for pillars that went UP, but ones that I would walk over. And they were cool:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfttHk7sDwlzQgwNAEIVZWzfFa_44s3w2AmetPidakK2Ka4JOsv2Ot0A380zI1Lg173ufA1mDmTY-YFOIJHPK3gpvvJtw6HosLoJ2oWaCNLjleVZsjXvVBogvuuxkznlWKGndAuCZn40g/s1600/Pillars+of+death.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730269496191285186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfttHk7sDwlzQgwNAEIVZWzfFa_44s3w2AmetPidakK2Ka4JOsv2Ot0A380zI1Lg173ufA1mDmTY-YFOIJHPK3gpvvJtw6HosLoJ2oWaCNLjleVZsjXvVBogvuuxkznlWKGndAuCZn40g/s320/Pillars+of+death.jpg" /></a><strong> </strong><span style="font-size:78%;"><strong>Pillars of Death - photo courtesy Matt Mahoney<br /></strong></span><br />Immediately past these rocks, I decided to heed Laz's words about taking advantage of any flat, runnable sections. I was jogging down the trail when I heard Joel call my name, and in whatever time it took for me to run the 50-100 feet back the way I came, <strike>I knew I was fucked</strike> my entire race experience was formed. I watched the entire field of runners cut across a small hill and begin <em>running</em> down the other side. And they were moving incredibly FAST.<br /><br />I got a glimpse of Frozen Ed and Leonard Martin- Leonard was wearing a red and white shirt and all I knew was that I had to keep that red and white shirt in sight as if my life depended on it.<br /><br />Later, several people said and wrote in their reports, "I saw this section was called 'Hiram's Gambit' so I figured I better stick with Hiram." <em>That never even occurred to me</em>. My one consolation is that you can go <a href="http://www.geoffreybakerphotography.com/?page_id=1719">here</a> to see how much good it did Hiram to be Hiram.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730324701960817362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht00oFMK_R86jkwpGPmDqs3PFygOQfUf8j-oUPseOmTe2NhUxiaVE5UztCbikPQodKvEY4axLmS5Oym8e4DabqMShZlaHaeODrznNctcBvI34qXuemcISu5NvFSPXbWuljDb-JRvx6Vvc/s320/Looking+down+Checkmate+Hill.jpg" /><span style="font-size:78%;"><strong>This is the view going down Check Mate Hill - courtesy Matt Mahoney</strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0pYM2qgFURF525kX5SXF86Qq9MjxfeyWq3EPLhM6lOEnIgasMuxDCKIwlLUTgDZMjU-B_9-2igXjQqx6l4OnY-jV1ANHgjUTEtuAYXSGHepJLnhU5RIQCrMj1b878R-PT8MXR3WSHm_A/s1600/Floom+of+Doom.jpg"><br /></a><br />As I flew through "fanghorn forest", it registered that the section was aptly named- what a creepy forest. The forest leads you to Check Mate Hill where you descend 1300 feet in less than 1/2 a mile. Of course, at the time, I didn't know this was Check Mate Hill. I was out of my mind, trying to keep any human being that I could in my sights.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-5_FttsVedIsu9lvIcANSK5MNLZqQ5W-a0e5noHlvkD1ToQY97TxgC7OmGQiCrIi00HaoLEtxzX4RobYC5Mbbg_VI98GxvZfFfg-4rc0igiMM13yRddb0TF9L4YJF-mVc7MCKdIna_Io/s1600/check+mate+hill.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730534381574634018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-5_FttsVedIsu9lvIcANSK5MNLZqQ5W-a0e5noHlvkD1ToQY97TxgC7OmGQiCrIi00HaoLEtxzX4RobYC5Mbbg_VI98GxvZfFfg-4rc0igiMM13yRddb0TF9L4YJF-mVc7MCKdIna_Io/s320/check+mate+hill.jpg" /></a> <span style="font-size:78%;"><strong>This photo gives a better view of how steep Check Mate Hill is (courtesy Matt Mahoney)</strong></span><br /><br />Everone was just <em>gone</em>, except this one guy with longish grey hair (I later learned this was Pat). I flew down the hill, chasing Pat, hoping against hope he was going the right way. I could no longer see Frozen Ed or Leonard Martin.<br /><br />I was almost all the way down the hill, when I got a really bad feeling- This just can't be right, I thought. I <em>know</em> the book is back up there somewhere and I've screwed up. What a moment of truth. Follow the one person I can still see and assume he knows more than I do...? Or head back UP check Mate Hill? Oh, holy god. <em>I headed back up the hill.</em> I didn't come here to NOT get the book pages, damn it.<br /><br />About 1/2 way back up, I see people coming towards me. I ask if they've already gotten Book #1 and they say yes. Someone tells me to head back up and angle slightly to the right until I hit a road. Go down the road and I'll find Book 1, they say. Then, (I think it was) Tim Dines says, "Psyche, you've got this." <strong>*</strong><br /><br />So, I climb back up Check Mate Hill, I find the road, I run down the road and I eventually see the rock that Book #1 is hidden under. Just like the instructions say: "The first runner will find the book under a large rock. He may need to wait for the second runner if he is not strong enough to lift the rock."<br /><br />Oh, noooo..... I can't lift the rock by myself. And I'm...the...last...person...in...the...race. Can you imagine? I get scraped, descend and then climb back up Check Mate Hill to find Book #1, only to realize that I may not be able to physically get the book out from under the rock? No, no, no, no. That is not happening. I pry and pull, and push and shove, until I finally see a bit of plastic. E ventually, I work the book out from under the rock, and get my page! Sweet, sweet victory.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvkEVevoILmibED-TSb_Cx0uQe7ZEu5vHLD5ipfrkfULnDiPbY5BHWIRBWj2rXzX_ptBBBxp2jqgIaPfxTOzU9wFffd99SV52CpkqVWqK5qffjHhE-EwsFHRYerLVrjoSGQmIE_ybCnP8/s1600/book+1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730333307020269266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvkEVevoILmibED-TSb_Cx0uQe7ZEu5vHLD5ipfrkfULnDiPbY5BHWIRBWj2rXzX_ptBBBxp2jqgIaPfxTOzU9wFffd99SV52CpkqVWqK5qffjHhE-EwsFHRYerLVrjoSGQmIE_ybCnP8/s320/book+1.jpg" /></a> <strong><span style="font-size:78%;">Naresh, Stu, and Terry at Book 1 (courtesy Matt Mahoney)<br /></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#33ccff;">Book #2 The Rambo Experience<br /></span></strong>Obviously, I don't bother placing the book back under the rock because 1) I'm not strong enough and 2) I believe I'm the last person in the race. I secure the page in my plastic baggie, and head back the way I came. I read Laz's instructions. I'm supposed to be looking for a creek, but shockingly, I don't see it. I know I have to go back down the hill but I'm not sure where to go down, or if it makes any difference. Then, I see Pat- he's coming up Check Mate Hill just like I did and he's saying he made a huge mistake- he went for Book #1 where it was <em>last year.</em> So I tell him where he can find Book #1, and I continue to try to make sense of Laz's directions.<br /><br />Eventually, I decide to wait and follow Pat. I figure he must be a vet if he knew where Book #1 was last year. When I see him, I say something like, "I don't know where the hell I am so I'm following you." He mentions something about a jumble of cable being a landmark, and heads down Check Mate Hill that way. I follow, until we get to a section and it becomes unclear how to proceed. Laz's instructions say to be careful not to go too far to the right because there are dangerous 40- 60' cliffs, but this guy is <em>moving</em>.<br /><br />All of a sudden, he finds a rock face drop off, and jumps off of it. He begins descending. I'm like, <strike>"mother fucker!!"</strike> "Hell no!" but then I remember: <em>I'm LOST. </em>And he's gonna be GONE in a few seconds. I decide to follow, and I take my pack off and throw it, along with my trekking pole, down the cliff ahead of me. I remember saying, "Sorry, honey" out loud right before I jumped, because I knew Charles would not like what I was doing...<em>at all</em>.<br /><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></strong><br /><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></strong><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730324710245826818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0pYM2qgFURF525kX5SXF86Qq9MjxfeyWq3EPLhM6lOEnIgasMuxDCKIwlLUTgDZMjU-B_9-2igXjQqx6l4OnY-jV1ANHgjUTEtuAYXSGHepJLnhU5RIQCrMj1b878R-PT8MXR3WSHm_A/s320/Floom+of+Doom.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:78%;"><strong>Naresh and Terry Cash going down the Flume of Doom (courtesy Matt Mahoney)<br /><br /></strong></span>Later, I heard this section was called the Flume of Doom. I don't think I actually went down the Flume per se, but rather jumped off the cliff you see in the picture above. It was scarey as all hell.<br /><br />The fear did not let up. Pat was now almost completely out of sight, and he was bushwacking down the side of the mountain just freakishly fast. It was incredibly hard to run fast enough to keep him in my sights. Especially as I'm having a heart attack. The whole section down to Phillips Creek had such a surreal, dream-like quality to it. I was chasing Pat, but it also felt like I was being hunted. It somehow reminded me of Rambo- the forest scene in First Blood where Rambo is forced to hurt the officers who are hunting him. He tells them to get over hunting him or they will get a war they will never forget. At any moment, I expect Rambo to silently step from behind a tree, or spring from his lair in the leaves beneath me. Surrrreal, I say...<br /><br />I've now completely lost sight of Pat. I decide to head down to the water instead of bushwacking just above it. I don't even know why. I honestly think my race is over. I take my time and follow the creek, thinking it will eventually lead me... somewhere. I can decide the best course of action at that point.<br /><br />Then I look up, and right in front of my face is the rock cairn where Book #2 is hidden. Damn! Barkley is nothing but a series of emotional ups and downs!<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQOf8H3Nx4FCqHKpoKZSW1hpOofGAvvHPr5gYQMF_XsLZWrssLmjwze_ebUQWZG7Oa9y8YN2T_y_qaqTSTEb8UBTPJoi67YtqcN-mo9_x0XTViaoMA0guvHwH9F4V-O9rvJ_iUl8PM3aY/s1600/book+2+rock+cairn"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730548769764688594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQOf8H3Nx4FCqHKpoKZSW1hpOofGAvvHPr5gYQMF_XsLZWrssLmjwze_ebUQWZG7Oa9y8YN2T_y_qaqTSTEb8UBTPJoi67YtqcN-mo9_x0XTViaoMA0guvHwH9F4V-O9rvJ_iUl8PM3aY/s320/book+2+rock+cairn" /></a> <span style="font-size:78%;"><strong>Rock Cairn where Book #2 was found (photo from 2010 Barkley)<br /></strong><br /></span><br /><strong><span style="color:#33ccff;">Books #3 and #4 - Takin It Down a Notch<br /></span></strong>Now I know exactly where I am... and I know where Book #3 is located. I secure my page, get water, cross the creek and begin climbing up to Jury Ridge. This section is on "candy ass" trail and it's a tough climb and everything, but nothing like what I just went through. Mostly, I feel a little depressed because I know I'm last (turned out not to be true) and it's hard to make myself hurry.<br /><br />I do run all the downhills of this section and I keep checking Laz's instructions, wondering when I'll get to Son of a Bitch Ditch. I also think that no one better tell Laz that this whole section is quite runnable if you're so inclined.<br /><br />The Garden Spot was tricky to find and I wasted a lot of time, but it seemed to me I could follow the directions for the most part, even if I lost a lot of time doing it.<br /><br />By the time I was on Stallion Mountain, I was losing heart and considering taking one of the roads back to camp. Can you believe it? After all that initial excitement, I was having a hard time facing the prospect of navigating the rest of the course alone and it taking me for freaking EVER to finish a loop.<br /><br />Just as I was finding Book 4, I look down the trail and...Naresh and Matt Mahoney are walking towards me!!! GET OUT! I was so happy to see them! I knew right then I would finish and it would be perfect. I mean what's not to love about how this turned out? Matt Mahoney, the godfather of Barkley, gives Naresh and I a personal tour.<br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730694720150777122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwmijBk1bFj8b708BkFwU4mR5khwqBvoPYIwIxLU5ZFrGYAON2E-FsLxcl-JydEeOSXTycAPO8wIUiAa7YTjrHArzHN6z4J4ynMlIYgCrmNE2gaI0kF1pkXHFq2I8-hdyJ0C6hL8En9bk/s320/book+4.jpg" /><br /><br /><br />align="left">I'll end this story with a few photo highlights of the rest of the journey. Matt took some phenominal pictures, and it was such an honor to complete the loop with him. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect experience, especially since I don't know if Naresh will even be here next year. It was the best day ever.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730698223270888434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM2S6C6qbHkb6pAH4cv-QdQ9H0HhUJzlwDBnoUclG2r6mabXP25i6Ix0zmhNj__XEq3pkbKfRDJC7bgTHYzvNbY3G1pvSwVDcct92YRx72AYtaKMzaSCiDVkZcwIIH88G2srRyw7ZgIXA/s320/stallion+mtn.jpg" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEzxLNVrJgVvKPWqtyNt6cfrHJoK3jxauTx0UOxF6CQskz3B5Jk0mf9PpyuM495Ul_YHG1ee2WJILZD-uDFhff8VJFxS_ivMRan0PO7WJxHimhz8uhFXbVjOywvgqZmeGK0JNEsctyjrs/s1600/off+stallion+mtn.jpg"><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730692998839151714" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEzxLNVrJgVvKPWqtyNt6cfrHJoK3jxauTx0UOxF6CQskz3B5Jk0mf9PpyuM495Ul_YHG1ee2WJILZD-uDFhff8VJFxS_ivMRan0PO7WJxHimhz8uhFXbVjOywvgqZmeGK0JNEsctyjrs/s320/off+stallion+mtn.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730698229667901234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNXMCmPDzcUr3zmyD6skZX8vvpCLERf7VNQ6lnQ5hPa1uev9GeOBKesb9S-Q8q9uU2Tbuy8Ypvt7FYiaFOIJIXz44_-GnbAzALi3O_xMkRiHSXEVO1adLMNlnGOIPbPeBs12icFW4_tX4/s320/stallion4.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja11rXOjImgYGcr-b1n16tTTdeEkYdAZq1Mebv2jo4nKJI4Mgr5q11V0x86kP-3Rfyz11VoIFrlFTzIomi9pJbfwBFjUIM3GJKtu7E_dTir0qu7nfuMeluhcN2B3fzQLNwROVsW-JiYIw/s1600/book+5+in+the+swamp.jpg"><strong><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730698217232032242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja11rXOjImgYGcr-b1n16tTTdeEkYdAZq1Mebv2jo4nKJI4Mgr5q11V0x86kP-3Rfyz11VoIFrlFTzIomi9pJbfwBFjUIM3GJKtu7E_dTir0qu7nfuMeluhcN2B3fzQLNwROVsW-JiYIw/s320/book+5+in+the+swamp.jpg" /></strong></a><strong> </strong><strong>Book 5 at the swamp<br /><br /></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGib1RzqWOhicDY0_KlT_KRMp21E1C841WNpJuG2F2gYpLPmabw4G7C29CsHMkBLm3lXGdrseSMZWmHFM6tgVoSdtnziKKLw1V1CP7Jz3mdrYDv0pc1F9oRDv1Xh0nfibkEGllmPlyjq0/s1600/book+6+at+raw+dog+falls.jpg"><strong><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730704550123467682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGib1RzqWOhicDY0_KlT_KRMp21E1C841WNpJuG2F2gYpLPmabw4G7C29CsHMkBLm3lXGdrseSMZWmHFM6tgVoSdtnziKKLw1V1CP7Jz3mdrYDv0pc1F9oRDv1Xh0nfibkEGllmPlyjq0/s320/book+6+at+raw+dog+falls.jpg" /></strong></a><strong> Book 6 at Raw Dog Falls<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730705535081491986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR4D5YwYfxlKGKyal9KRKZ3i90htqqSNIW7rsEcwsx5yCXYWT7-xNTBxYli5uv_nmvCSZjCqcsp_yK7X1XSo_XdcGs4s_z1BUQn9p1iklMFG6AnMrd6CX7vChNm-ZAVk-YHTGCDSSky58/s320/book+8+breaking+IN+to+prioson.jpg" /></strong><span style="color:#000000;"><strong> Breaking IN to the Prison for Book 8<br /><br /></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu39WaDCS82IKIyPQHyTXYVicNdIf7sirWKGeZ2LN2TSggDCd9Tm08kGtJa8uoC9PvXJMiFHXh1M3E4EqtIG-XBuGVue6sYdGdeAcl7zygkIs95OhAsoTa1z-FrP78YCFrj4wrENX2u6k/s1600/book+8+where+James+Earl+Ray+jumped+the+prison+wall.jpg"><strong><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730705550362976146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu39WaDCS82IKIyPQHyTXYVicNdIf7sirWKGeZ2LN2TSggDCd9Tm08kGtJa8uoC9PvXJMiFHXh1M3E4EqtIG-XBuGVue6sYdGdeAcl7zygkIs95OhAsoTa1z-FrP78YCFrj4wrENX2u6k/s320/book+8+where+James+Earl+Ray+jumped+the+prison+wall.jpg" /></strong></a><strong><br /><br /><br /></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha0XRYfld03401woRx600IIhMxSxtVpZJL2q64vERmen9Yl-HJ3ykOMq1bLIAcAVDeHnCuMhdTjoBd_gqH8XN_QfdH9AVi1rKKYqYkaf7EBnnGn8lTzfWT2CWha-CU2uIx4Z1F4cGEnIU/s1600/book+8+exiting+the+prison.jpg"><strong><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730705540536063522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha0XRYfld03401woRx600IIhMxSxtVpZJL2q64vERmen9Yl-HJ3ykOMq1bLIAcAVDeHnCuMhdTjoBd_gqH8XN_QfdH9AVi1rKKYqYkaf7EBnnGn8lTzfWT2CWha-CU2uIx4Z1F4cGEnIU/s320/book+8+exiting+the+prison.jpg" /></strong></a><strong><br /><br /></strong><strong><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730884646168805298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN1tpKYowvAPkTa006APXrhGoOZBCblLLCwi1yx-vwQqgDcTT1p0twcQU-VzITnCtFI9OfyRt8smtzcytMLoFNpopcK9gWirWJTklBLhR2WEK0lm0AZCI1MEk2eCOFNKSgM2Dclez4OGY/s320/MMahoneypic31.jpg" /><br /><br /></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDR1vwoUi6DYqxmSnWo1zJNRHr8rE9KAw7eTZZUeKykOp5s58cvzfYL68tSWOA54fJvRdNVAkaz3-IdeeawsXwyiOJTK3ynG9dDQNg9xO68NSHSlJvIZcUQviEwuaRqjSrc8cicNG_LdA/s1600/rusty+barrel+after+pig+head+creek.jpg"><strong><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730884642095656034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDR1vwoUi6DYqxmSnWo1zJNRHr8rE9KAw7eTZZUeKykOp5s58cvzfYL68tSWOA54fJvRdNVAkaz3-IdeeawsXwyiOJTK3ynG9dDQNg9xO68NSHSlJvIZcUQviEwuaRqjSrc8cicNG_LdA/s320/rusty+barrel+after+pig+head+creek.jpg" /></strong></a><strong> The rusty barrel on the way to Pig's Head Creek</strong></span><strong><br /><br /></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrotssomEN0HNiRJo0UcBWyS-6mkDGFc3jPmvaBXfbFT2wUKyz5ddZFWJIC7arwN1ZBZZ-WXh8oDn7pHKd7vDafdbQHfQsRe4oxNtfD9iQjJw1-o5Vx5KacfV_VqE2Cvzn7F2ujN2yhfI/s1600/At+the+fire+tower.jpg"><strong><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730886259415714402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrotssomEN0HNiRJo0UcBWyS-6mkDGFc3jPmvaBXfbFT2wUKyz5ddZFWJIC7arwN1ZBZZ-WXh8oDn7pHKd7vDafdbQHfQsRe4oxNtfD9iQjJw1-o5Vx5KacfV_VqE2Cvzn7F2ujN2yhfI/s320/At+the+fire+tower.jpg" /></strong></a><strong><br /><br /></strong><strong><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730884631672827346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq4gWqbsimETTVDUayyqTXesvCjX0UycUNkYrQF0ukJ23ZjJdSAHDbqFT82EsOC_XXp35qvsaz-CFqyWrT-u7C8stBYr9uuh6ox2tM-wTD_quCEACYjpuNY-sRmhy-rgCLxAqwM3pv0fQ/s320/crossing+116+to+book+5.jpg" /><br /><br /></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPAmwuTxW1J98f-X7nLk-KrNzAiDAqWUu5T62d9vKs_EIV6ByQqZkjiSJml509Pfb2YEbUDZ2BCkFsY3GO1IFMw5O6-FCdB5DCb2g1ah6J_MBazo3_kXByc2gzmAPVjgIxEghALgVWiZY/s1600/ratjawmore.jpg"><strong><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730886282514086546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPAmwuTxW1J98f-X7nLk-KrNzAiDAqWUu5T62d9vKs_EIV6ByQqZkjiSJml509Pfb2YEbUDZ2BCkFsY3GO1IFMw5O6-FCdB5DCb2g1ah6J_MBazo3_kXByc2gzmAPVjgIxEghALgVWiZY/s320/ratjawmore.jpg" /></strong></a><strong><br /><br /></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUZ8TkrGNc4OZpmRUDciC2n1xCd7yovFYbNyGlmN_CiNpnh3lRLrQ7LbC8fXJfStKbg3eNyPPM7PceMh8cTVGoLBT4rcMTs5A6tThY6NixysVFXG4c2jdH9PEIEBQJ6pThyISzgkODL2o/s1600/On+the+way+to+Book+5.jpg"><strong><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730886278267571522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUZ8TkrGNc4OZpmRUDciC2n1xCd7yovFYbNyGlmN_CiNpnh3lRLrQ7LbC8fXJfStKbg3eNyPPM7PceMh8cTVGoLBT4rcMTs5A6tThY6NixysVFXG4c2jdH9PEIEBQJ6pThyISzgkODL2o/s320/On+the+way+to+Book+5.jpg" /></strong></a><strong><br /><br /></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzclXpf-eKVlCy1rDWuUBZ_i-6RDbmShV3RLqLG-wJnKz-oG5pxRQaAtNIkXuvB15Zwo63ui0wb-gqsuLtOwqVRUMpwu9G-mvqe_ctvlAOn8xlVMq8QeJlzfphyphenhyphenbrgZqjNcWYvwxAz_a4/s1600/not+sure+where.jpg"><strong><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730886266487621938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzclXpf-eKVlCy1rDWuUBZ_i-6RDbmShV3RLqLG-wJnKz-oG5pxRQaAtNIkXuvB15Zwo63ui0wb-gqsuLtOwqVRUMpwu9G-mvqe_ctvlAOn8xlVMq8QeJlzfphyphenhyphenbrgZqjNcWYvwxAz_a4/s320/not+sure+where.jpg" /></strong></a><strong><br /><br /></strong><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730705528384859810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZbXHCybFsYC0qRzHuZMXr10GOPTYPopdChWfD4ncjyPaOUBqrbKEzJpZ7cUOldICPyPQpVfJIkMcOEzqRwaqXrQFgldRRH8kCvxLlp9VHmXDbeZU459yZSa_5fOr2-dDdoWlmtVOefoQ/s320/TAPS.jpg" /><br /><br />Congratulations to the 3 finishers this year.<br />I still can't fathom what you did.<br /><br />* You have no idea what that meant to me, Tim. Thank you.Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-54965813738874301812012-03-26T23:02:00.012-04:002012-03-27T00:31:59.221-04:00Catching Up While WeightingNo good blog post ever started with, "I haven't posted in so long that I figure writing <em>anything</em> is better than nothing."<br /><br />Oh, well. I can live with that.<br /><br />Silent? Yes, guilty as charged.<br /><br />Silent because nothing newsworthy has happened in nearly 4 months? Hardly.<br /><br />This is a time of monumental ch-ch-ch-changes. Over these last months, if I had written about everything as it unfolded, it would be incredibly <strike> entertaining to read</strike> time consuming to write.<br /><br />Cue the bullet point.<br /><br />Obviously, I'm taking the lazy person's way out here, but you didn't really think I could tackle 4 months of my life at a time, did you?<br /><br /> The 4-month recap:<br /><br /><ul><li> DIVORCE. I am officially divorced. In an ironic twist, my divorce became final on Valentine's Day. In some ways, I feel as if a weight has been lifted, but things won't really feel "final final" until all the associated divorce issues are resolved in court. By the way, divorce sucks. Even "amicable" divorces suck.</li><li></li><li>RUNNING. Running on the down low. I've been <strike> in a Jeremiah Johnston phase </strike>training mostly around Chimney Rock/ Lake Lure/ Rumbling Bald...which is awesome. </li><li></li><li>BARKLEY. I'm on the weight list for the Barkley Marathons- #2 and weighting as I write this. I cannot weight to get up to FHSP. Run or hang out and watch the suffering...it will be amazing. More on this later.</li><li></li><li>BIRTHDAY. I had a birthday. Forty Five...sounds a lot older than 44 somehow. Don't really care. My cake was awesome.</li><li></li><li>BOOK. I wrote a book...kind of. I worked like a crazy person for 5 weeks straight to develop a study guide and a certification course for managed care contract negotiators. You can say you knew me when.</li><li></li><li>HOUSE. The house finally went on the market a few days ago. Beverly Hanks did a fantastic job with the pictures. I have very mixed emotions about it. But mostly, I just want to put all the divorce stuff behind me and concentrate on the Charles stuff in front of me. Life is too short.</li><li></li><li>LOVE. I remain the luckiest person in the entire world. Nuff said.</li></ul><p>In summary, life is in transition, but then...when is it not? </p><p>Rock on...</p><p> </p>Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-81878523823670351692011-12-09T00:51:00.003-05:002011-12-09T01:08:18.583-05:00Backyard Adventures in the 'Rock- Part I<div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEish_6ECzk5bJZeuRz_FyegA4ocIbbXxzK-_iIvLYNAUMJFxUup2qTFK1W8_mH9RtbTuEYfQO04HTi8cmGxWfG4Ait9zoqbYyUUS1hJmMgxuw90Ka2WcjQeoc6UMkfeSO19s8kgwnZgfo4/s1600/chimney+rock2.jpg"></a>I live in an astonishingly beautiful and cool place - Chimney Rock, NC. It's only 25 miles south and east of Asheville, but what a difference 25 miles makes. I'm smack in the middle of some incredible country- Hickory Nut Gorge, Lake Lure, and Rumbling Bald Mountain are all within a mile of me. In fact, my house sits at the base of Round Top Mountain and the view of this beauty from my kitchen window is amazing.<br /><br /></div><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683983388195314066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoV76RizHtzZwA1RgU-36bGZ5RvvizsSPY48cp4VejYklFYIHUVw-U4wparlgW_w6ER5SCoFc313Ozebh0uunBcHM_UcvaXObFIA20dzN3_SgQwvvdofGrzaQUSxG_FzuIVCPYfuI38Y4/s320/Picture+002.jpg" /></span></strong><br />A word about Round Top Mountain...First, and you can almost see it from the picture above, I have direct access to it from my yard via a trail that connects to Silver City Road. Silver City Road takes you right up to the base of it, where the picture below was taken. Another very cool thing about this mountain: it was featured heavily in "Last of the Mohicans" as the Indian Village. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683819165529379874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1fTjAPM1YxR9E-xE8xv8qu8if_LKtl7Ob0tDAEvgzny0VtLF2hE6ff3LEMNgyGaowY94jwND2bqLNOLKFFrqYiMp66HMtvnriAyq4xv4M2Cahg-_9OaKKrORfGJGNG3Y7-5X10rUnhIg/s320/chimney+rock4.jpg" /><br /><br />Like I said, there is a trail just 25 feet from my back door that leads to Silver City Road, which then accesses trails that dart in and out of State Park and Private Property. No driving necessary. It's really incredible.<br /><br />I've already spoken with the Ranger who said I'm fine to be back there because my property accesses the State Park property directly. Although, he said, I may encounter problems with the owners of the private property. Which I did, one day. Said owner indeed has a lot of issues, but apparently none with me. I finally had to ask him, straight out, "So, are you going to be upset if I run back here?" to which he said, "Hell, No! I don't care if you're back here!!" (He's a real character). So, case closed. In my mind, I'm free to make the entire gorge my playground.<br /><br />Recently, I've had two really good adventures "exploring" my backyard. This is the first adventure...<br /><br />I went home early on the Wednesday before Pinhoti to get a run in and explore the trails behind my house. I wanted to see where one particular trail led, because the last time I was back there, it seemed to literally just "end", and I am finding that this is true of these trails- there's no defined trail system, per se, just a bunch of interconnected trails that locals and hunters (and rock climbers) know and use. Often, they just "end".<br /><br />So, I left the house at 4:00 p.m., completely unaware I was in for one of the best adventures EVER and would not be home until after 11:00 that night.<br /><br />It took 45 minutes to get to the point where the trail appeared to dead end. You go in between these two amazing rocks and are kind of dumped into a rock garden and the trail disappears.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683819152275910370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2pH4zcPEZfQLkzG6lijfsQIQ19UJEWXzcKHLOy6A_KXyog_Pv1KBZhG7yGbYxXMvwRVnt-m1-HpIrStrIi73P8KR1nNYJD-GTtmoS8jz5NLZudBkgVCrCwCgzciKKI9Bdy4zu2VfCVF0/s320/chimney+rock5.jpg" /><br />I explored the possibility that the trail went up the side of a mountain here, and I spent a good 30 minutes hiking/ bush whacking up the mountain and eventually concluded there was no way that was a real trail. It terminated at a junction where you had to traverse a sheer drop-off that I was far too scared to even attempt.<br /><br />As I was climbing down the mountain, I gave Charles a call because I'd learned that reception was good here. I told him about what I was doing, to which he said. "Just don't get lost, honey." Of course, I said I was insulted that he would say such a thing, and then assured him I'd be really careful.<br /><br />Then I made a stupid mistake. I went back to the spot where there was clear trail and explored the possibility it crossed a small creek and took up again on this hillside. There was no real trail to follow, and all I was going to do was to bush whack around a big rock outcropping and see if the trail appeared anywhere on the other side. When I got around the other side, I saw that clearly there was no trail there and Idecided to head back and call it a day as it was now close to 6:00 p.m. and I would soon be losing the light.<br /><br />Well, the big rock outcropping that was so recognizable on way over was not nearly as recognizable coming from the other direction. In fact, I suddenly didn't recognize anything and even though I had come only about 100 feet, I began to fear I wouldn't make it back before I lost the light. I suddenly felt stupid for laughing at Charles' request for me to not get lost.<br /><br />It was getting darker, and I was where I thought the creek HAD to be, but instead of a little creek crossing, I came to a giant granite drop off and had to retrace my steps back, which was even more disorienting. I tried to think. It seemed logical to head down, as eventually I would have to come out somewhere near or on Memorial Highway. So down I headed, and I went quite a ways only to come to another giant granite dropoff. I now head my head lamp on, and decided I was done trying to find my way down. With all the leaves, I couldn't see where sure footing was, and it just seemed far more dangerous to climb down than to climb up. Plus, I had talked to David about this area, and he said that if you climb up you will intersect a road at some point.<br /><br />Honestly, I didn't know what to do, and I was on the verge of panicking. Instead, I just decided to make a decision and stick with it. I was going to climb up, and I picked a line to follow and hoped I would intersect a road. It was completely dark now, and I was bush whacking up the side of a mountain, going up, over and around granite rock outcroppings.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ96227e5GpB31DNzpj52ViQH0AIRtIz2PPS38zDxZ3wo1-etYtRiiI1PQkgd3UOriWhpOesjMAZT8jqix1R_llQ3Jp_6k5rFTj9cjv-0Gqgx7Y2QrlcHbUrPZalgs6frvrjdFnibeMNY/s1600/chimney+rock3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683819156097016658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ96227e5GpB31DNzpj52ViQH0AIRtIz2PPS38zDxZ3wo1-etYtRiiI1PQkgd3UOriWhpOesjMAZT8jqix1R_llQ3Jp_6k5rFTj9cjv-0Gqgx7Y2QrlcHbUrPZalgs6frvrjdFnibeMNY/s320/chimney+rock3.jpg" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>This picture is from adventure #2, but is an example of the rock structures I had to traverse....in the night!<br /></strong><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">At one point, I climbed up a large rock structure that brought me to the saddle of the mountain. I went down the saddle, only to discover I had to climb some more if I had any hope of accessing a jeep road or any road at all. This last climb was so densely forested that I was climbing on my belly in spots so that I could go under the branches of trees because they were too thick to get through any other way. The branches had snagged my pack and opened it and I lost my jacket, gloves, and water bottle. Now I was really thirsty and I had no water.<br /><br />Hours went by and I kept bush whacking...just straight up- hoping for...I don't know what. When suddenly...jeep road! I had intersected what was clearly a jeep road. Hooray!! I called Charles and told him, and I decided to follow the road to the right as it went slightly down hill. After about 200 feet, it became more and more over grown, and finally it was clear that the road just ended there. Damn!<br /><br />I turned around and went the other way, and the road at least did continue. It became a more and more pronounced road, and after climbing a bit, started a descent. It seemed like I went about 2 miles or so, and then I saw lights of a house. That was comforting. Suddenly about 1/2 mile later, the road dumped out onto a paved road, and all of a sudden I knew exactly where I was. I was at the top of Old Schumont Mountain Road!! Amazing. What a relief to know where I was! David lives about 2 miles away and I texted him to see if he was home. He was, so I asked if he could come get me and give me aride home, which he did.<br /><br />Even though I know it was stupid to get myself in to that situation, I have to say that bush whacking up Schumont Mountain in the dark, and then suddenly popping out onto the road and knowing where I was...was thrilling. I was proud of myself for keeping my wits about me and not panicking. Right or wrong, I made a decision and stuck with it- and it just happened to work out well for me.<br /><br />To be continued... </span>Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-91131308209550649882011-12-01T13:11:00.002-05:002011-12-01T14:02:25.706-05:00Foothills Trail: Sub 27:00 and First Female Double Finisher- Say WHAT?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0W3dYBnXgSac69CpN_Fwd46FLCB0YBFdJQASjxD-QI-rAu0ujBAlcpTPHMkw5lrtoYI6myfKTyxwvxnJhBr2WJIMFz4vxlnalbzCZ_u6FcOe-xQwVnL8WNsyhQe0QE07gBu-B1xKunPY/s1600/003.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680649070830765474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0W3dYBnXgSac69CpN_Fwd46FLCB0YBFdJQASjxD-QI-rAu0ujBAlcpTPHMkw5lrtoYI6myfKTyxwvxnJhBr2WJIMFz4vxlnalbzCZ_u6FcOe-xQwVnL8WNsyhQe0QE07gBu-B1xKunPY/s320/003.JPG" /></a>Usually, after a “significant” run like FHT I find that it takes me for freaking <em>ever </em>to gather my thoughts in any kind of cohesive way and write a race report. By the time I’ve processed the experience emotionally, I find the details of the race have already begun to fade from my memory, which makes writing it up that much more difficult.<br /><br />Not this time. No emotional processing necessary. Honey Badger just got...it...DONE!<br /><br />So, here goes.<br /><br />First, attempting the FHT over Thanksgiving weekend was a last minute decision. Originally, I passed on this organized attempt, thinking it too close to the Bartram 100’s on December 10. But then... <em>I noticed Naresh was signed up for Bartram and was also attempting FHT</em>...So, yes. To answer your question, if my friends jump off a cliff I <strong><em>will</em> </strong>follow them.<br /><br />The week leading up to FHT was a whirlwind of ADD-induced planning. For the first time, I found myself attempting FHT sans Charles and I was suddenly in the position of being the “experienced one” on the trail. Stop laughing. Stop it now.<br /><br />The logistics of an FHT attempt are always daunting. It’s a point to point run, so you’re dealing with shuttling people and cars and aid between Table Rock and Oconee State Parks. Any logistical challenges like multiple start times only serve to amplify these challenges.<br /><br />Also, you’re not allowed to be on the trails after 30 minutes before dark, so you have to commit to camping at one or both State Parks. And you can’t just book one night at a site, there’s a 2-night minimum at either of the State Parks. Then there’s cell phone reception/ coverage issues. What a nightmare! Cell reception is just plain crappy. You’re lucky if you can send a text, and if you’re able to, you may never know if the person you sent it to received it. More than anything, lack of cell phone coverage has caused a comedy of errors to play out again and again. This attempt would turn out to be no different in that respect.<br /><br />The adventure begins....Thanksgiving Day.<br /><br />Mimi was kind enough to get a site at Oconee for Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights. As I drove to Oconee State Park to meet Mimi and Naresh, my excitement began to build. Whereas up until that point, I had been preoccupied with planning a “finish”, I suddenly started to consider going for a 24-hour finish. I went as far as leaving a message on Naresh’s phone, saying something like “I hope you don’t get this- I’m losing my mind with excitement and actually thinking about going for the 24 hour finish. Please slap these thoughts out of my head when you see me.”<br /><br />In my mind, I had no business thinking sub-24. I was going into this run after a 75 mile week culminating in a hard Saturday run on trails at Jones Gap State Park and a double SSSR (<a href="http://wnctrailrunner.wikispaces.com/Seven+Sisters+Summit">Seven Sisters Summit Run</a>) on Sunday. But the little voice in my head reminded me that I recovered very well from the weekend, and my legs had felt downright bouncy on my recovery run on Tuesday. I was also thinking a Foothills Trail finish would go a long way in healing the wounds of not one but TWO Pitchell DNF's in October.<br /><br /><strong>Thanksgiving At Oconee State Park - Cool</strong><br />Soon after arriving at Oconee and finding the campsite, I met Scott Chapman for the first time - what a cool guy. His plans were to run from Table Rock to Laurel Valley entrance and then be available to run, crew and assist at various points on the trail.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUqOawW2tmKdlWPLBxVNRObz0gz_sT2r-oTkgBhYa76JdFC-M7bPmkYqHE3qCOUeeJRKGacTpDFPRDIK5Wbvin-wkLJ_oQUXuZjGe_E4cJ96DGL8cs3X6nDQWAIN73I76JEgU-njdAEhE/s1600/Picture+003.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680633325692698002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUqOawW2tmKdlWPLBxVNRObz0gz_sT2r-oTkgBhYa76JdFC-M7bPmkYqHE3qCOUeeJRKGacTpDFPRDIK5Wbvin-wkLJ_oQUXuZjGe_E4cJ96DGL8cs3X6nDQWAIN73I76JEgU-njdAEhE/s320/Picture+003.jpg" /></a><br />Thanksgiving dinner was a wonderful meal of Tandoori chicken and Naan, courtesy of Naresh. Did I say it was wonderful? It was soooo yummy! As we stood around the campfire talking and drinking beer, the temperature began to drop- finally to the point it drove us in to our tents for the night around 9:30 p.m.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYboRtZ89Gxa4ftcOQ0cJ8dm9fIsHkayraENzctGm8ef_zmke_uZrm-ag-hzh9pY2wyweA6gW9BactA2Ejqr2jWdTwj59uiofrfy-iKBATBqa3QfXg9rNij60wlFt0uNokHG8tkF8LSsg/s1600/Picture+004.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680644230308667618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYboRtZ89Gxa4ftcOQ0cJ8dm9fIsHkayraENzctGm8ef_zmke_uZrm-ag-hzh9pY2wyweA6gW9BactA2Ejqr2jWdTwj59uiofrfy-iKBATBqa3QfXg9rNij60wlFt0uNokHG8tkF8LSsg/s320/Picture+004.jpg" /></a><br /><br />The next morning, Mimi, Naresh and I set about finalizing our drop bags and talking about the trail in general. I had made us all some navigation notes that highlighted some of the trickier parts of the trail.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9CW6u3h5bF0F8In8qzvL6hEoFgq1i8am6JOVJHBEklPxLqBEn1xXvKrZmVgorukJLBxbmZ1Wvz_-Ia3qWuGNU-5ac4UxN_6TFzfCPw87kwGGMsG7rYqLxNYSa04tLAfk8ihSTgRa8IBI/s1600/fhtnavhelps.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680645742938794738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9CW6u3h5bF0F8In8qzvL6hEoFgq1i8am6JOVJHBEklPxLqBEn1xXvKrZmVgorukJLBxbmZ1Wvz_-Ia3qWuGNU-5ac4UxN_6TFzfCPw87kwGGMsG7rYqLxNYSa04tLAfk8ihSTgRa8IBI/s320/fhtnavhelps.jpg" /></a><br /><br />We made a short trip over to the WWF overlook platform, which was jam packed full 'o tourists, and we hiked down to the bridge so they could get a feel for the climb over the rocks as you begin your ascent out of WWF.<br /><br />We headed back to the campsite around 3:00 to meet Lester Farmer. Soon, Chad and Mark rolled up and shortly thereafter we all left Oconee and stopped along the way to drop a few aid bags, drop off vehicles, etc. Finally, we arrived at Table Rock around 7:30 pm.<br /><br />It was incredibly cold! I ate some boiled peanuts and could not get warm around the fire, so I opted to get a couple of hours of sleep in the back of Naresh's car. At about 11:00 p.m., I went up to the restroom to change and to text Charles. When I returned to the car, I saw that Scott Hadukavich had arrived. Somehow, it just ain't a FHT run if Scott isn't there.<br /><br />Last minute preparations, and before I knew it, we were moving silently as a group down to the Trailhead start point with our headlamps off. Memories of previous runs filled my head, where the fear of waking the ranger seemed far more intense than it did this time. As usual, we took a couple of group photos before someone called the official start time (12:04 a.m.) and off we went, climbing up, up, up, towards Pinnacle and Sassafrass Mountain.<br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><strong>Table Rock to Laurel Valley Entrance (14 miles) </strong><br /></span>12:04 - 4:35<br /><br />I felt exhilarated at the start as I took in the beauty of the trail. Even at night, this trail is simply gorgeous. We all stayed pretty close to one another for the first few miles, as clothes and gear were adjusted, and everyone got used to the trail. I was a little worried about Mimi as she was apparently already having some issues with her headlamp.<br /><br />I realized pretty quickly that I felt good. It's a good 9-mile hike up to Sassafrass, with tons of elevation gain, but I was handling it really well and my legs somehow felt fresh.<br /><br />Near Pinnacle Mtn., I made a note of where Charles had broken his arm in February, and I found myself missing him. The run didn't feel quite the same without him. I love the way he's always ppointing out what's coming up next on the trail, and how we run together so comfortably.<br /><br />Right about then, I turned to Naresh and said, "No offense, Naresh, but I miss Charles." Almost immediately after that, we came up on what I thought was a left-over Halloween joke. Someone had hung a skeleton on the trail! So weird...<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680648754067674290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJvOeaMildT7kI_wf_7QGJ8uCD7QLsyKXDzkZatdSyzkHNG61uAwCj3mP32q6nxF-Qm9XiufxAyMXFYFIfjWXCWxJ1MzrAqkPBqsyNiFO4EsXxCDUnxB7dB-pM8Uiz4HkO_xZakkvxM8g/s320/015.JPG" /><br />A few minutes later we popped out of the trail at Sassafrass and started crossing the road to where Chad would be waiting for us with water. At first, nothing unusual registered with me. There were several cars parked here, but I assumed Big Easy and/ or Scott H. were there as well. Suddenly I see the "FARTHER" license plate and I realize Charles was there! He had totally tricked me and come up a day early to surprise me! In fact, he had to have already been on the road when I texted him right before the start. I love it!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQamx8Q8nkUtiUto_vXj37-KjicQpecUYvML447j3LpynBxCCZy6B5W9Mth_Upbwe8uWiYqpXM3bICiWILnucMR48M1FVbDHWVfM5WNOW1DZUT7N14yjMkNkVzIBIayMO-wjzMDDvHMLg/s1600/018.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680648757290701074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQamx8Q8nkUtiUto_vXj37-KjicQpecUYvML447j3LpynBxCCZy6B5W9Mth_Upbwe8uWiYqpXM3bICiWILnucMR48M1FVbDHWVfM5WNOW1DZUT7N14yjMkNkVzIBIayMO-wjzMDDvHMLg/s320/018.JPG" /></a><br />After quick hello's to Charles' doggies, a water refill, and some food, we all took off for the LV entrance. I know that Naresh really enjoyed the nice downhill descent to Laurel Valley. He's an amazing downhill runner and when I caught up with him at Rocky Bottom he told me he'd turned off his headlamp and cruised down the trail. Sweet! I checked my watch at the Hwy 178<br />crossing and noted that we cam e in at 4:16 a.m.<br /><br />We walked up to the Laurel Valley entrance parking lot and were treated to another awesome aid station. However, it got cold really fast when you weren't moving, so I tried my best to get what I needed and move out of there. I know Naresh was freezing, and I thought he headed back out a couple of minutes ahead of me. I noted that I left the parking lot at 4:34, and headed up the stairs to Laurel Valley. I remember hearing Chad tell Mark to take it slow and and to not try and “crush” it. Those two made a good team, I thought.<br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><strong>Laurel Valley To White Water Falls (34 Miles)</strong><br /></span>4:35 a.m. - 3:42 p.m<strong> </strong><br /><br />The Laurel Valley section is probably the most well-known section of the FHT, as it has it's very own race - the Laurel Valley Ultra. It's a beast of a section, but this time I had a very different experience running through here. I found it to be way more runnable than I <em>ever</em> remembered, and with few exceptions I had no difficulty staying on trail. I made it my main goal to run every runnable part of trail, and I found that I ran a <em>lot</em> more of this section than I ever have before.<br /><br />Lester and I traded positions for a few miles, and eventually we caught up to Mark. This in itself was a big surprise, as I thought Naresh was ahead of me. I asked Mark if he'd seen Naresh, and he said no. I told Lester I was worried Naresh had maybe gone off trail, but I didn't know what we could do about it at this point.<br /><br />I kept moving, but as Canebrake and Heartbreak Ridge closed in, I was so ready to be see humans again. I remember Charles saying he'd see me at 8:30 at Canebreak, and I think I ended up arriving around 9:00. As planned, Charles and Scott had hiked in to Cane Brake and set up a mini aid station of awesomeness, and when I finally heard some hollering, I cannot begin to tell you how happy I was. I immediately went off trail and had to correct!<br /><br />I asked them if they'd seen Naresh, and that's when Charles told me Naresh had taken the road at the LV parking lot instead of the stairs but had corrected himself after a few minutes. But instead of being a couple minutes ahead of me like I thought, he was a couple minutes behind me- I just didn't know it.<br /><br />I got some food and Gatorade, and was eager to keep moving as I suspected I was making good time so far, and with no navigation problems, I was becoming increasingly confident I was having a good run. Plus, I really wanted to get in to WWF in under 12 hours.<br /><br />At one point I began to overheat with two shirts on, so I had to take the long sleeve shirt off I was wearing underneath my shirt and tie it around my waist. This is when I noticed my watch band had broken and my watch had fallen off. I got my phone out of my pack to see what time it was, and I don't know if it was just me having nearly 50 miles on my brain and body, but I would swear that the clock that's usually on my phone display was no longer there! I went into my phone menu to try to find the clock, but...seriously? I can't do this shit on a normal Tuesday without Leopold's help. There was no way in hell I was gonna figure out how to display the time on my phone under these conditions.<br /><br />As I got closer to reaching the WWF bridge, the not knowing what time it was started messing with me. Then the climb out of WWF started messing with me more. OK, there's no better way to say this than how Mark put it:<br /><br /><br /><blockquote>"The two mile trek up to the parking lot was, as I said about a hundred times on the way up, retarded. Many people quit at this point, and I totally get it; those last two miles were hell."</blockquote><br /><p><br /><br />I was about to start yelling, to see if I got any yells back- good lord! Surely I had to be close enough for people to hear me by NOW? As I was about to scream, "CLIMBING OUT OF WWF SUUUUUCKS!!!", I heard music. Then, I see Scott Chapman at the top of thill, looking down at me and playing his accordion. Well, that's a first. Awesome!<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680880040079457730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheaLoB565I8jDpH4LskYn2ynoN9g3M5GdPyjsAQHS4QwLm91MSltVVWs7iL0d7ffYN_AJyhxvxNm2uasCawkSDt4SdZWY-_FhhmNYYLf3FdjsAo-5ldNxpyxXznPRQZFniHphW8T3EkO0/s320/053.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680880038524337314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8RMG-lT8AU6qDe-BGpjh9NvQEz3g4Kp4ot8j82ffPRzBKaLHRFjd26tlL1lb0tjeRDbplgCMaoFcL5YtYNTYrpx4w9H_oH450S3G43gCISuK6o8jWeVpK6hGbFs86lhFCVd3LUIOZ7to/s320/052.JPG" /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680880052069013490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYsnnnpF6Ir-Cl-V7y1P73guAdCxNBS4UgowHDCrVXDma9NnjJX-J9YkzsWbDGr6LBbT1VHgWLdTolfvGC0VT9EwnRtUTBa_99PkTeUDrsTSBtyvYuE4HRGU69GCzIiu4xjOHAofA6nXQ/s320/055.JPG" /><br />God, it was so good to sit down! I desperately wanted to change my clothes, get a beer, and then get out before I had too much time to think. I asked Charles what time it was, and I was so surprised to hear it was 3:42. I made it through LV almost 45 minutes faster than planned!<br /><br />Charles tended to my every need, and even moved the car strategically so I could change my clothes. I felt bad that I was cranky and tired and just didn't have the energy or inclination to show him how much I appreciated him being there. After 20 minutes, Charles put me back on trail, showering me with compliments and encouragement. To all you future crew members, I cannot tell you how much compliments help! Even when you know they are bold faced lies!!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhITLfSsmJoqv3B17N3mx7M3ay9XxfqMDsjmYHpKz7z4_rPECcXm0qsOd4rJgSvxKu5CnRj6ztFGDA8enQ4PMfQQ2YM6iNPyaaDRd8yOolnZc7RL-xjBlRP8lew0hwoBsg0er2YJljkeVg/s1600/Picture+019.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680886833725757346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhITLfSsmJoqv3B17N3mx7M3ay9XxfqMDsjmYHpKz7z4_rPECcXm0qsOd4rJgSvxKu5CnRj6ztFGDA8enQ4PMfQQ2YM6iNPyaaDRd8yOolnZc7RL-xjBlRP8lew0hwoBsg0er2YJljkeVg/s320/Picture+019.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><strong>White Water Falls To Sloan Bridge (4.7 Miles)</strong><br /></span>4:05 p.m. - ?<br /><br />This section was a good confidence booster. As I began the initial climb, beer in hand, I remembered the last time I was here. Rob Rivas was pacing me and Charles, and I had not gotten enough food through WWF. Everything I ate and drank at WWF did not stay down, and I was puking before the first climb ended. Essentially, my last attempt ended right here. In contrast, I felt super good this time, and I was working on faster leg turnover up the hills and running anything resembling flat or downhill.<br /><br />I remembered that this section ended where you would hear cars and so I just kept listening.<br />Knowing that Charles would be at every point between here and the end was extremely reassuring. Also helpful- the way he would focus me on <em>just</em> the next section as he sent me off each time. He'd say things like, "This next section is just 3.9 miles. Remember how it's technical at first, then it gets more runnable?"<br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><strong><span style="color:#000000;">Sloan Bridge to Fish Hatchery (3.3 Miles)</span><br /></strong></span>? - 6:50 p.m.<br />I don't like this section.<br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><strong>Fish Hatchery To Burrell's Ford (3.9 Miles)</strong><br /></span>6:50 p.m. - Where is everybody?<br /><br />Best...section....ever! After the technical torturefest that was the last section, the trail suddenly seemed very runnable. Runnable, and somehow downhill, too! There were some narrow ridges here, and some technical spots, but overall I was able to get into a really nice groove through this section.<br /><br />I came up on Mark and Chad and hesitated to pass because in all likelihood they'd just be passing me back. But pass I did, and I remember Chad saying I was on my way to a PR, which totally fueled my fire, and I could not WAIT to get to Burrell's Ford to share my excitement with Charles. When I thought I surely had to be getting close to where he could hear me, I started yelling out. I did this several times, and eventually I figured he was inside his car and couldn't hear me.<br />The next thing that happened freaked me out. I fully expected to run into the parking lot from the trail. I know when we drop aid there, the trail leads directly to the parking lot (right?). So, when suddenly I was dumped onto paved road and not in to parking lot, I panicked. Did I get off trail somehow? WTF?<br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><strong>Burrell’s Ford To Cheohee Road (10.4 Miles)</strong><br /></span>? - 11:52 p.m.<br /><br />I probably made a mistake in not spending more time trying to find Charles. I'd only taken 1 hand-held with me for this last section because it was so short, so I was out of water completely, although I did still have food in my pack. More important than the water situation, was the anxiety produced by missing the aid station. I didn't know if I had gone off trail or not. I didn't know if Charles was waiting for me or not. I had a lot of miles to dwell on this and it was a big distraction.<br /><br />It's a testament to my state of mind that it never occurred to me that Chad and Mark were right behind me and they would tell Charles what happened.<br /><br />At least going in to this section I knew I was on trail. It was anybody's guess for a lot of those miles. And I've heard this before, but this section is just plain freaky. You go by the Chattooga River for a lot of the miles, and I kept wondering how the freaking river could be on my right one minute and then my left the next. Does the river wind UNDER the trail somehow? Am I running in circles? Am I hallucinating?<br /><br />At one point, I was worried I was going in circles, so I saved the last bite of my KitKat and placed it on a rock on the trail. I told myself to remember that the side with the bite on it is the direction I was going. WTF? Things were getting weird, alright.<br /><br />I scared off two large animals in this section, although I never saw them- one was a deer for sure, but the other seemed much bigger. Most likely a bear.<br /><br />I refilled my water at the river as I took the trail that goes all the way to the river instead of the "high tide" alternate trail. I was definitely dehydrated as I had plenty of food but couldn't eat it because my mouth was so dry I couldn't swallow. I was starting to get really tired through here, and all I wanted to do was get to the part of the trail where I stopped hearing the river- then I'd know I was almost to Cheohee Road.<br /><br />Several hundred hours later, I thought I might be getting close and I started yelling out. No deal. Crap!<br /><br />I came to a series of trail markers that confused the hell out of me. I think these are new, and they mark the FHT East, Chattooga River South, and some other shit. I wandered around these signs for quite a long time trying to figure out which way to go. Finally, it occurred to me that I didn't want ANY of these other trials, so I should just keep following the white blazes like I was doing. Shit! How stupid did I feel that it took me that long to figure that out! < When I got close to Charles and Scott's campfire, and they started yelling. What a relief!!! I tried not to stay too long, but when I got up from my chair I was so stiff I could barely walk. When Charles sent me off, I'm sure he thought it would take me several hours to cover the last 6 miles. I was moving like the Halloween lady I saw on the trail earlier. </p><br /><p><span style="color:#000000;"><strong>Cheohee Road to Finish (6 Miles <strike>my ass</strike>)</strong><br /></span>11:52 p.m. - 2:55 a.m.<br /><br />I started out walking so slowly I wondered if I would start hearing the river again. Then it just changed- just like that. I was like, "You have six miles left and you've been doing great. Is this how you're going to finish? You don't even hurt that bad. You can totally run the flats and walk everything else." So I started running, and it really wasn't that bad. Although I kept remembering that this section was long, so it was hard to get in to that, "I smell the barn" mode.<br /><br />At this point, I had absolutely no sense of time. But I knew I was getting close because I saw the white triangular markers for Hidden Falls (the detour I took last time). Then I saw two triangular markers, one for FHT and one for Hidden Falls. I think this means that they both share the FHT for a portion of trail.<br /><br />Then I saw a third triangular marker for Tamassee Knob Trail, and I'm like, Jesus, who else is gonna join in on this?<br /><br />The next thing I know, I'm back on a ridgeline, then on trail that seemed to keep dropping, then rising, and then back on ridgeline, then winding around a hillside. It was my first bad feeling that something was wrong. But I didn't see how I could have done anything other than what I was doing, so I remained calm. I came up to a sign marking State Park property- and this, too, was unfamiliar. Unfamiliar is bad.<br /><br />Next, I'm on a saddle where I looked down on either side of the trail...and then I started this vicious climb that literally brought me to my knees. To reference a private joke between Naresh and I, I knew I was fucked. I turned around, and headed back the way I'd come. I was so incredibly tired and a little bit scared, and a LOT wanting to be finished.<br /><br />Eventually, I walked right in to the trail marking with a double white blaze indicating I'd gone down Tamassee Knob Trail. It was so clearly marked, I couldn't believe it. I took the FHT trail, and finished not long after that, thankful for the slight downhill.<br /><br />There was no one at the Oconee sign, and I figured everyone had come in already and Charles probably had to take Chad back to his car. I sat there for a minute, then thought to get my phone to see what time it was. I turned the phone on, and the clock display was still missing, but if I hit the side button, it showed the time. Did my phone always do that?<br /><br />Finish time: 2:55 a.m. (26:51)<br /><br />I sat down on the ground and used my pack as a makeshift pillow. The next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes, and I was laying flat on the ground in the leaves. I had completely fallen asleep - for 45 minutes! I had to laugh at the image of a car driving by and seeing me. Surely, I looked like a dead body.<br /><br />I walked back to the campsite and put my pack in the tent so Charles would know I was there. I headed for the showers, and in the middle of my shower, Charles knocks on the door and everything was alright again.<br /><br />I learned that he had gone down the trail to meet everyone, but of course by then I had taken Tamassee Knob. It turned out no one had finished before me, AND I had broken 27 hours. With bonus miles. It took a while to sink in, but I realized I was the first female double finisher.<br /><br />I am crying as I finish writing this- I have no words to describe how freaking cool this run was and how happy I am.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMLRYZWy2yQHOCs4mFVxjcafRo17pw4ryRMLtdX9IorkJLDWPa6grVeYrgjBfu9pNqFP6JrId6DuoC3kt-qIelwSFKfVj1pTqAD3K9o1SCelWBM6lPZ8HPwu9B3Pgxwi6QjwlV504NyAA/s1600/Picture+023.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681229423846103298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMLRYZWy2yQHOCs4mFVxjcafRo17pw4ryRMLtdX9IorkJLDWPa6grVeYrgjBfu9pNqFP6JrId6DuoC3kt-qIelwSFKfVj1pTqAD3K9o1SCelWBM6lPZ8HPwu9B3Pgxwi6QjwlV504NyAA/s320/Picture+023.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br />P.S. A few "Thank You's"<br /><br /><strong>Charles, Scott H, Scott C -</strong> <br />Thank you for the aid stations of awesomeness and your support. I wouldn't have finished without you guys.<br /><br /><strong>Chad -</strong>You just ROCK. I want you as a pacer next time!<br /><br /><strong>Lester, Naresh, and Mimi </strong>- <br />We didn’t share too much time on the trail, but it was enough to know you were out there. Glad you are all safe.<br /><br /><strong>Naresh and Mark</strong>- Wow. I am so inspired by you both and Naresh, I am so happy to be your friend.<br /><br />And, always, always, to Jason Sullivan - Thank you for bringing this trail to my attention and for all the work you do promoting these FHT runs.Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-81196613029546714162011-11-10T09:30:00.015-05:002011-11-18T08:58:58.553-05:002011 Pitchell 100K +<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSwyTMXYEPcy-cLxIqQVPsHROcOtR6Ix68VV_dvZSHT7u9DtIg87vW8_nXBOAW-rAnyenxHihDArVCHFk-XeXlMuvQE2Uocdb7qm2DyAWg9RCSKU0HN3S6G2a8iDYhv2pAGJUAWEUMNKI/s1600/pitchell.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671134554091250882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSwyTMXYEPcy-cLxIqQVPsHROcOtR6Ix68VV_dvZSHT7u9DtIg87vW8_nXBOAW-rAnyenxHihDArVCHFk-XeXlMuvQE2Uocdb7qm2DyAWg9RCSKU0HN3S6G2a8iDYhv2pAGJUAWEUMNKI/s320/pitchell.jpg" /></a>The Pitchell.....what an epic adventure! Birthed by the mind of Mad A (Adam Hill) in 2004, this run starts at midnight on the summit of Mt. Pisgah and you run, hike, and crawl 67 miles (all on the Mtns. to Sea trail) to the finish on the summit of Mt. Mitchell! With its midnight start time and the finicky October weather, this is a beast of a run, and one that's gotten under my skin.<br /><br />The Pitchell cannot be fully explained by words - it's one of those runs you have to experience (not unlike <a href="http://sweeth20races.com/">Sweetwater 50K </a>in that respect). To me, this run represents the perfect storm of difficult trail elements - you've got extremely technical single track trail combined with unholy leaf coverage, unpredictable weather, night running, sleep deprivation, extreme temperature <em>and</em> weather changes, and let's not forget the roughly 30,000 feet of elevation change. Even when you're prepared for each of these elements individually, it's easy to underestiamte their impact as a whole.<br /><br />I think everybody who attempts the Pitchell 100K+ must come in to the Folk Art Center (FAC) thinking, "How'd THAT happen? Why doI feel like I've been hit by a truck after running the slowest 50K I've ever run?" Then, of course, it hits them: They realize the hardest (or at least slowest/ most unrunnable) 50K they may ever encounter is still ahead of them. See, <em>that's the kicker</em>- this run gets progressively more difficult. The last 20 miles is an ode to denial. It kicks your butt, and even as its happening, you simply can't believe it's <em>that</em> hard- surely you're just having a bad day, or the conditions aren't right, or you didn't get enough long runs in or get enough sleep...<br /><br />Need I even say this? Very few people have completed this run. It's kind of like <a href="http://www.foothillstrailultras.com/">The Foothills Trail </a>that way- hard to finish, but in a different way. Since its inception in 2004, the "all time finishers list" includes just 8 names.<br /><br /><strong>Pitchell 100K+ All Time Finishers List</strong><br />This does not include people who ran but modified the run to make it easier. (<em>For a complete list, go </em><a href="http://wnctrailrunner.wikispaces.com/Pitchell+100k"><em>here</em></a><em>.)<br /><br /></em>Adam Hill 16:30, 17:30, 15:06!, 15:33<br />Kevin Lane 15:18<br />Charlie Roberts 18:11<br />Mike Mason 16:48<br />Brian Beduhn 19:50<br />Brad Kee 17:47<br />Sean Blanton 19:20<span style="color:#ff0000;">*</span><br />Eric Loffland 19:20<span style="color:#ff0000;">*</span><br /><br />Fast forward to Friday, October 14th, 2011<span style="color:#ff0000;">**</span><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#33ccff;">Well, This Sucks</span><br /></strong>The day of the race dawned beautiful and temperate and it seemed as if everything were aligning itself to enhance the runners' chances of finishing this beast. There was just one problem- me. I found myself at the tail end of a difficult week, feeling overwhelmed and under prepared. I'd spent the last few weeks moving truck loads of stuff to the new house after working all day, and then working late into the night trying to get some cleaning and painting done. As a result, my running had been erratic at best lately, which only fueled my distemper.<br /><br />Everyone knows moving is a huge adjustment, but for those of you who know about the new developments in my life, this is just one of several huge life adjustments I'm smack in the middle of. So its not surprising that my dealings with Duke Power and AT & T earlier in the week were enough to send me careening over the edge. I was ready to pick up the phone and dial 1-800-HONEYBADGERNEEDSTHERAPY.<br /><br />After being so stoked about this run for months, on the way over to Mad A's house on Friday I found myself saying to Charles, "I don't even want to run this race. I wish it could be on some other day because I just cannot get my head in to it right now."<br /><br />Nice, huh?<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#33ccff;">The Usual Suspects Roundup<br /></span></strong>As planned, the runners began arriving at Mad A's house around 5:00 p.m. Several Georgians were joining the hunt for the illusive finish, including Charles Raffensperger, Sean Blanton, and Eric Loffland. Charles has run most of the individual sections of the Pitchell course already, but Sean "Run Bum" Blanton and Eric Loffland had never been on this trail before. Considering the outcome, this says a lot about both of them.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"><strong>2011 Runners</strong></span><span style="color:#ffffff;"><strong>:<br /></strong></span>Adam Hill<br />Dave Pryor (early start)<br />Psyche Wimberly<br />Charles Raffensperger<br />Mike Mason<br />Terry Foxworth (early start)<br />Sean "Run Bum" Blanton<br />Eric Loffland<br />Brian Beduhn (early start)<br />Brian Kistner<br />Sultan (early start)<br />Brad Kee<br /><br />In addition, many of the usual suspects were running the FAC 50K, which begins at 6:00 a.m. the next morning and goes from the Folk Art Center to Mitchell summit.<br /><br /><span style="color:#33ccff;"><strong>Whip My Hair!</strong><br /></span>For me, the evening at Mad A's was the absolute highlight of this year's Pitchell. Pre-run get togethers are always fun, but hanging out with the likes of Matt Kirk, Adam Hill, and Crimson Cheetah...well, that just takes things to a whole other level. I'm not ashamed to say I still get a little star struck amidst their company.<br /><br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666037796976258770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMVFx2mIT3wqb3zgse3SYKcMhSGM1-ms7KUPhNByZWRGTzO-qRiBU1uwJL7hrR6-93d5ZBjC2xrJypmK4LLA-tj6SSVTIZVfZRUap4qjQl3eIfzM_hkO3mO3md_vaM8_rMOYLI6afy8zo/s320/DSCF3338.jpg" /> <strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Awesome Group Photo. From </span></strong><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Top Left: Brian Kistner, Eric Loffland, Adam Hill, Me, Charles, Mike Mason, Matt Kirk, Isaiah Mosteller, Sean "Run Bum" Blanton<br /><br /></span></strong><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666037794687423138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaLu3DpAI_MXEHrhbYEUnW-XapXwpM-D8loQlMpUK6odl0U60brcEzafQP6OQYFRjoSz-Xb7dLF9g9yzgWzpYdLhRvroh3GIZqILYdNIPYMGLlpD2BOXTFI2hNAs2f5StwFp_LWjb0dIE/s320/Copy+of+DSCF3334.jpg" /> <strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Adam's parents and Suzanne are entertained by Jon Harrison and Sean Blanton (and Luna)</span></strong><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666037791338961634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLCEGkWRuj_O_cXbQwCnu_Qm9A-bBMTwabfvtER_LeQ_YOpkDnmHsF7r8wENS4xywoiD_tM0SmWDmJLdhdJbRuU2vKDuG1WXJssKvbPN8-QuJaw3g5xzPk9DB2qQpqMIkTJF7TUnII34M/s320/Copy+of+DSCF3333.jpg" /> <strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Adam Hill impersonating Neil Young singing Willow Smith's, "Whip Your Hair" </span></strong><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673367301555223746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2spSJNF1xOISNjaCxlj7JdVbmo9_CjpwtYLYtkpzWHh1j12-rVtdh1rOqJs8LtNuL86s1P1hi4gFauLpMXusk6sO3WSYljKMqb5eVvEXj2WX36bsN9naAJfoTOYtFjrFa2qsSDVXz7TI/s320/DSCF3337.jpg" /><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Most special bonus- Meeting Ava for the first time!<br /><br /></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#33ccff;">It's the PITCHELL, Baby!<br /></span></strong>Things move fast. Before I knew it, we were at the top of Mt. Pisgah and it was just before midnight. I was happy that Charles got to experience this part of the run- the midnight start really is very special.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673037600051266978" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS4i7gzi-wFiktR4ILYSEf3PV6OkBRhVfPPWD0YjsWdy3mwt1Zl7x1PQU0Aol4j080ScrgRWWKzh30LohrknoDifmCEy8Rs-afLGgQ-fAkQ5iSrrWz5YTXhpfQzyOPm1Y30aqlrNwtJpQ/s320/Copy+%25282%2529+of+DSCF3348.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>From Left: Crimson Cheetah, Brad Kee, Adam Hill, Eric Loffland, Charles, Me, Run Bum</strong></span><br /><br />In my humble opinion, all super badass runs need to start at midnight with a sip of Moonshine and a howl at the moon...<br /><br />Well, this is where this post becomes painfully anti-climatic. I'd like to say that everything turned around for me, I started feeling great, I had an awesome run, and I finished in an amazing time. Sadly, no. From the moment we began, I felt as if I just didn't want to be there. In fact, it's fair to say that I was simply waiting for Charles to give the <em>tiniest hint</em> that he wasn't in to the run, either, and I'd be all over that shit, saying I could totally quit and be fine with it.<br /><br />Unfortunately I had a 43-mile wait for that to happen. We decided to end our quest at Craven's Gap, knowing we would not summit until well into the dark. We'd had enough, time to call it a day.<br /><br /><strong>Some highlights of those 43 miles include:<br /></strong><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQR3eBPaOjHPMVku4VIh4_iqXGuAmyUVg_pphsMZopkxPvqAqXuIVgenK9g8LllKme7aOJYRGnS8qybcYCIxUlaPkInKi3pstIWTuLdZB7Utc62ynRQ1kw7ORzgB1zfFGbD4zQ58wcv5w/s1600/Copy+%25282%2529+of+DSCF3351.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673367292195848882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQR3eBPaOjHPMVku4VIh4_iqXGuAmyUVg_pphsMZopkxPvqAqXuIVgenK9g8LllKme7aOJYRGnS8qybcYCIxUlaPkInKi3pstIWTuLdZB7Utc62ynRQ1kw7ORzgB1zfFGbD4zQ58wcv5w/s320/Copy+%25282%2529+of+DSCF3351.jpg" /></a><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Climbing away from the FAC, you get a terrific view of Pisgah and you see how far you've come<br /></span></strong><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpJ23o5-UR48Tos2sVC8qLDZMkH18mQQcvnU29CmcT2cGhXBHB4HuxZGHTfDyO9ZbQR7WJk3kdXLomEztCwGC34BNdjNj_pGqJxKEBbkg0sWRZD6IQ_TSf5mG0RHztk8U0yjMALvgnwUI/s1600/Copy+%25282%2529+of+DSCF3349.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673367285429374802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpJ23o5-UR48Tos2sVC8qLDZMkH18mQQcvnU29CmcT2cGhXBHB4HuxZGHTfDyO9ZbQR7WJk3kdXLomEztCwGC34BNdjNj_pGqJxKEBbkg0sWRZD6IQ_TSf5mG0RHztk8U0yjMALvgnwUI/s320/Copy+%25282%2529+of+DSCF3349.jpg" /></a><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"> Right before FAC, the trail takes you under a freeway pass, but you're running through a pasture, complete with cows. It's surreal. Especially after running all night.<br /></span></strong><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673038676509994674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoGwGpVz2AjEtP1T_x7KpircaVc6M005dFrFwxyPxLN4FIcqK5loDp713H38zCItyojLUBxou_SHxqH633BbRZCIU9HM-ENlK-HRBrMGtHwvc-48TWItaVn_YoQK68RXTE44VUgQ9GmjQ/s320/DSCF3350.jpg" /><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Just completed a 11 hour 50K, took a 45-min. rest, shared a 22 oz. IPA from Green Flash brewery with Charles, and chatted with Jeremy Hargroves before taking off again. No wonder I'm smiling!<br /></span></strong><br />So, we're done.<br /><br />We started running down the BRP back to my car, and suddenly we hear someone yelling something from a moving car. The car pulls over to the side of the Parkway and at first, I think its just another of theose insane leaf lookers. They are CRAZY and will slam on their brakes at the first sign of a brightly colored leaf. But I turn around, and there's Terry Foxworth, standing on the Parkway railing, yelling, "PITCHELL SUUUUUUUUCKS!!!"<br /><br />Aaaaagh...!!! A kindred spirit! What a wonderful and welcome sight!<br /><br />We yell back, "PITCHELLL SUUUUCKS!!!!" ....Hahhaha!<br /><br />Terry explained that he and Dave were both simply not in to it from the beginning, but they decided to finish a 50K and stop at FAC. Hearing this made me feel infinitely better about my day. By way of an update, Terry said that Adam was going strong but had run into a rough patch and was slowing down. Still, it was 3:00 in the afternoon, and he was approaching Mitchell. Beast!!<br /><br />As far as the other runners, Brad Kee was not far behind Adam and B-Rex was still going strong, although he may have taken an alternate route. I heard something about Sultan taking a nap, and then dropping later. Cheetah had dropped at a nice even 40 miles. However, Terry said that no one had seen or heard anything from Sean and Eric, and this kind of concerned me because they had never been on this trail.<br /><br />So, Nicole and Terry gave Charles a ride back to my car and Charles came back and picked me up. We drove up to the Mitchell summit to see if there were any finishers and any news on Eric and Sean.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673038676191969858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihccQztM79R61F1-r37Tpmlffj9FtVKW1w6mECvxwYQh7pTGNFSsQMowOJ9xBQ25iYbnrAjrxA7vvBR3iK7oS9y4bev5FdolsoItoLNEGi00DKQgWxXzowQCogSIQgdbHQNfYVhPuhI0E/s320/DSCF3359.jpg" /><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Beginnings of a beautiful sunset atop Mitchell. ..Trying to not be worried about our boys.<br /></span></strong><br /><br />So we wait...and wait...and wait. Still, no one has heard or seen from Eric or Sean. Charles and I were both worried and we stayed up at Mitchell, watching and waiting. At about 7:30, with dark approaching, and the winds picking up speed, we thought we better contact the Ranger and let him know the situation (becauae Rangers love hearing that runners are out there lost on the trail, and we like to make them happy). They close the gate at 8:00, so if Sean and Eric were to make it up there to the parking lot, they'd have no way to get to their car. Not knowing what shape they'd be in, we decided to wait it out.<br /><br />We kept driving down Hwy 128 to see if we could find them lower on the trail, then we'd go back up to the summit parking lot. Back and forth, back and forth...where ARE these guys?<br /><br />To my amazement, Charles can perfectly imitate Run Bum's voice, and we spent some time cracking up at the expense of our spirited young friend. That's just how we roll, baby.<br /><br />We were actually <strike>laughing so hard we were crying</strike> quite worried, and when FINALLY the Ranger came around and told us our friends were in the Ranger's bathroom getting warm, we <strike>immediately wondered if we'd find them in some compromising position</strike> were so very relieved!! We headed over and Charles rounded the boys up and put them in the car and gave them some food.<br /><br />We heard their story (complete with how they "held up" some tourists for food), and were simply amazed and inspired by their journey to Mitchell. They are both amazing and talented runners, and it was an honor to be a part of their journey on that day.<br /><br /><strong><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673366646655422130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoUxcjgqf2w5aNPyIHp3oy22wGEVWo1q7_lB7cxFxyp8Eb58JrsB0KB6P9elsXCMQ5ZgosTEVckUt62EeUa43ik8rGPBnIPbmVsSTK-74ey-Zqx96WFUt3_YL2bqPBVUwkH-Ez5CnjIgQ/s320/DSCF3365.jpg" /> </strong><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Charles, Eric and Run Bum (in ski mask) hamming it up- We're so happy they're safe!<br /><br /></span></strong>To get the full low-down on their journey to Mitchell, go here: <a href="http://www.runbum.com/seanblog/?p=419">Run Bum's Pitchell Report</a><br /><br />And you MUST check THIS out:<br /><br /><br /><br /><object style="WIDTH: 440px; HEIGHT: 190px"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/DVqKoCGomsA?version=3&feature=player_embedded"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><br /><br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DVqKoCGomsA?version=3&feature=player_embedded" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="440" height="260"></embed></object><br /><br />In conclusion, the Pitchell is....an EPIC ADVENTURE. It's not for everyone, and there is definitely an element of danger. But after this day, I want to complete the run from Pisgah to Mitchell more than ever. In my future, I want to be able to say I ran from here to there...Yes, I'm one of "<em>those</em>" people.<br /><br />Giddyup.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;">*</span><span style="font-size:78%;"> Missed summit, but ended run at Stepps Gap at Ranger Station for safety reasons</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#ff0000;">**</span> This year's date for the "real" Pitchell- as opposed to a <strike>Pussy</strike>Kitty Cat Pitchell whereby you start early. However, this year's attempt made it very clear to me just how dangerous it can be to end up at Mitchell after dark. The weather conditions change on a drop of a hat. For that reason, I think a midnight start is out of the question for me in the future, since you need to be sub-20 hr. in order to finish in daylight.<br /></span><br /><br /><p></p>Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-43005582669960801852011-09-20T17:20:00.012-04:002011-09-22T10:10:06.045-04:00Bloody 11W 100<div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8v8zAbxXhF0s2PS5haI39Kf4xOl4kd7YjqiDoM9WTDDcc8E3Y-hGyQKHq-9l_Y-oAbywgyIBcnOfKro6POakUiRAn0_jJ78XQAhyphenhyphensGx1ZUmrGsUHe-bO7ycTKU3gRoM8YvYCIvchTKsA/s1600/Copy+of+Bannermod2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 170px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654549210743989314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8v8zAbxXhF0s2PS5haI39Kf4xOl4kd7YjqiDoM9WTDDcc8E3Y-hGyQKHq-9l_Y-oAbywgyIBcnOfKro6POakUiRAn0_jJ78XQAhyphenhyphensGx1ZUmrGsUHe-bO7ycTKU3gRoM8YvYCIvchTKsA/s320/Copy+of+Bannermod2.jpg" /></a><em>Wherein I experience all the highs and lows of running 100 miles and stamp "CONFIRMED" on my desire to run a self supported Vol State (500K) in July.</em><br /><br />I know this report is a long time coming, but <strike>I ran 100 miles!!!</strike> if I had written this post any sooner it would have merely consisted of a bunch of run-on sentences interspersed with fragmented statements aimed at processing the experience. And of course, "bloody this" and "bloody that" would've been thrown in there with wild abandon. Thank bloody god <em>that</em> didn't happen.<br /><br />Now, after more than 2 weeks post event, I do feel like I've processed the experience of the run for the most part. I've simply just not had enough bloody time or bloody energy to capture the memories of this story like I want to- and there are lots of good memories. I truly do want to record it, so I'll just do the best I can. I may invite Charles to fill in the good stuff I miss, plus add some stuff of his own. You can thank me – and him - later.<br /><br />So, here goes:<br /><br /><strong>Introduction, Please! </strong><br />The Bloody 11W 100-Mile Run is a point to point 100-mile run on a famous highway with a history, and the latest brain child of Gary Cantrell (Laz). <a href="http://bloody11w100.blogspot.com/">The story</a> goes something like this: Laz has already run the entirety of State Road 11E. During the beginning of 2011,and inspired by the Mother Road, Laz was looking at another highway with history and proposed to have a race along the State Road 11W. This highway is the most haunted road in the U.S. and was once known as "Bloody 11W" because of the frequency of fatal accidents along the route.<br /><br />Early organization of the race consisted of Gary e-mailing his idea to the ultra list serve. Interested runners could provide their email address, and race details would be furnished as the day grew closer.<br /><br />An excerpt from Laz's Bloody 11W email:<br /><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;">"The gas giant race, geared towards the over-the-hill crowd, with a gas giant division for the elderly & infirm leading the way and an able bodied division for the youngsters and speedsters will be held during Labor Day weekend. This is a fat-ass style event. The runner takes care of themselves. However, with a 72 hour limit for 100 miles, this is a chance for the old, slow, or disabled folks to log a legitimate 100 miler and with probably a dozen or less runners someone will get a chance to win a race.<br /><br />As a side note- since the race finishes at the Virginia state line in Bristol, the total distance is more like 109 -114 miles. The only cutoff is 72 hours for the 100 mile split."<br /></span><span style="color:#990000;"><br /></span><span style="color:#990000;"></span>I'm not sure how many runners were originally interested in this run, but at the last minute Gary had to cancel the run due to an employment conflict. I'm sure many of the runners let it go at that. However, Charles and I both were thinking about going ahead anyway, when I received a message from Naresh Kumar, asking me if Charles and I still wanted to go ahead. If so, he was also in. <em>Now things are interesting…</em><br /><br />All told, and to their credit, six idiots eventually showed up in Knoxville, TN ready to spend Labor Day weekend running all through the day and night (and day again) on a haunted highway:<br /><br /><strong>Official List of Idiots: </strong><strong>Inaugural "Bloody 11W 100"</strong><br />Charles Raffensperger<br />Psyche Wimberly<br />Abi Meadows<br />Janet Duncan<br />Mimi Hughes<br />Naresh Kumar<br /><br /><strong>Bloody Hell Those Logistics</strong><br />Logistics for a hundred mile run of any kind are a nightmare, but especially a point to point run and especially a run where everyone is really just doing their own thing. What "planning" came down to was a bunch of e-mails between us all, with a frenzied rush to "figure it out" a few days before the run.<br /><br />However, thanks to Charles, Abi, and Naresh, we had a very cool <a href="http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=4711038">Google map of the course</a> (C-Raff)....<br /><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 417px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 244px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654251995217948754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioxmRQn9J-8FWWPQ2g5Cj8ojMnwNQSy3qWbDLOfW66-Z_8dCfExp5nCCqLFB1ew64D5nyv8dtWKz9zdtwhHmjeIgvXvpjriBMKuh_d3-P5o3ZgJYjGy4aIf7XJ0bNTzrLP9GienmYX6l4/s320/Course+Map.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>Look how freaking FAR 100 miles look on this map!!!</strong></span><br /><br />A <a href="http://bloody11w100.blogspot.com/p/course.html">turn sheet </a>of awesomeness (Abi)...<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 343px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 283px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652065469462032130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTOcvaIZEWPB6Um_7rgdSEqifugL6uyS9PoGKPXl_mxJqmnIr8rsphlaQOyY22tPo4Oi4EJYKjFPgPrrta6LGcqRERYTYcOzfQTJz6RD2AznfLM2scWyWQYYqrURUXfTMSa1BsbJF4awM/s320/Turn+Sheet.jpg" /><br />And a <a href="http://bloody11w100.blogspot.com/">cool-ass race website </a>(Naresh) complete with a bloody awesome Bloody 11W logo and banner.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652082639594602706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMo_5l6oE5Wm_CyFpFbVsBMyqHj-V2NkUYnswr26fj1Dt04hhi_KYrpwBFH1IHB5bC9gpcZMKbP_-iqAvJd79qEVQQkMIHy8RZBr36wNy_oFNBNFkf9NtaU2Am_B_f4oH4pR8iOnaoNjU/s320/Copy+of+Bannermod2.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>Go visit the </strong></span><a href="http://bloody11w100.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>website</strong></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>. Do it now. </strong></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><br /><br />Since Charles, Naresh, and I were running straight through, we decided to leave one of our cars at the start, one at the finish, and one at the mid-way point. Charles and I arrived in Knoxville on Friday afternoon, greeted by record high temps and humidity, and at 4:00 p.m. we set off for Bristol in separate cars in order to leave Charles' car at the finish.<br /><br />The heat was unbearable. The outside temperature gauge in my car was 116 degrees when I was parked, and never went below 101 degrees on the entire drive!<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651617555269224114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC1NRIll4k3vop9GJBaFQ7Y6C7a62pjeS0QUS-Llcf3BEAjGxVFtX3iJvxzZxuM0oysElrW3IxYr6-NUJyb9a9fX1R4IjgLeH3MM663VYaGcnUMsZlhsFOfwMr4XQ4Ldi-W4Euf-28Hwo/s320/101+degrees.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>Warning: Running in temps higher than 100 degrees makes my Check Engine light come on</strong></span><br /><br />After 4 hours of driving, we barely made it back to Knoxville for the inaugural Bloody 11W "last supper". Did you catch that? 4 hours of driving to cover the course twice. <em>That's 2 freaking hours to drive the distance we were about to run....<br /></em><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652078997185108402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0zxY4OfwSv1tVgMDcDce0DxgOtuMJFIM_LDN8-lEz_B7ouPl15YrOF00q_NiiHCe_p-9A_2N_HXS1Y_ztq5INpqgFWBHsemPk3mgc6ZAuZ1gCdeACFlpbcTHbCMQt8HJCUyJ5rk0EBAw/s320/DSCF3291.jpg" /> <strong><span style="font-size:85%;">All smiles at this point. From left: Me, Mimi, Janet, naresh, Abi, Charles</span></strong><br /><br />As always, it's great to be reunited with fellow runners (Naresh and Abi). This time, we were also privileged to meet two new fellow runners- Janet Duncan and Mimi Hughes. We got to know them each a little bit over a relaxed meal, where we discovered Mimi is an incredible long-distance swimmer who has swum the Bering Strait, and the lengths of the Ohio, Tennessee, Danube, Drava, and Mura Rivers. Not only that, she dedicates her swims to a variety of causes: understanding between nations, environmental awareness, and lifeskills' training and education for women and girls.<br /><br />Holy cow! She's a beast for goodness!! What an honor to meet her.<br /><br /><strong>The Adventure Begins...</strong><br />At 6:30 a.m. the next morning, after scouring the area to figure out where to park our car (this area is a little on the seedy side), we all met at Shoney's once again, but this time we took a short walk down the street to the junction where 11W and 11E split- this is the "official starting line!<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652987285276504178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnp6-AjK3mtBvIJHpjdIXGH2ZuA_HQxXnKIbnbaJCSeUIV3UvNhYXspo3Q0bP9K-iffpXigxBEuA-jU9dM4cd_RmIdk2VuT-Ns8ClMnnbXAXvFbpY62zdEDyl0JIXu0VSnfNOuujAjGAs/s320/DSCF3295.jpg" /> <strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Group photo of start (minus Mimi)</span></strong><br /><br />The first couple of miles of 11W has absolutely no shoulder, so we all ran single file for awhile while watching the first of what would be two very beautiful sunrises.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652987293661272386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKvgtAbHkaBmj5VFfj2Us6LTKS7b-dtEpxPA5hhlk2YoIVKLj1uS7TMur92Y19qcSxmZqvDk9ekcHdNNaNc4I7HDx3HhQOZZuombaTbSKW7m5KYVZuyMNp-TL9TcMSY-42KtKNdH6LLXU/s320/DSCF3301.jpg" /> <strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Gorgeous sunrise #1<br /></span></strong><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652987297532705346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ1OOd-QQksS9aYnFWJ-_MuV_h4FAoE6Gj2FR1F3pu8xqpFNmR6AFuadbXTkNcm3BRqYt5wOaD054Baj7Hcxhh6kv05N8Cv1AR0aeiy6tIUr8O7roeyfKqGXPmRLOho-EKWYTZ3SXnbfc/s320/DSCF3297.jpg" /> <strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Bright runners, big city<br /></span></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>The First Bloody 9 Hours - Bloody Hell!</strong><br />In long races like this, I tend to start out badly and come on strong later. But seriously. From the very first mile, I did not feel quite right. I was having issues with my stomach that are hard to explain. Mostly, I felt like I had eaten too many different foods together at Shoney's the night before. I felt like the food I had eaten last night needed to finish working its way through my system, and then perhaps I'd feel normal again. My stomach felt empty and full at the same time, and sometimes it just hurt. This went on (and on) for... <em>nine... freaking... hours</em>.<br /><br />For the most part, what I remember about the first daylight hours of the run was the heat and how I felt like I just had to get this part of the run out of the way and hope for things to change - if I had any chance at all of finishing. Although we were running with Janet and Mimi and having some good laughs, I was also feeling kind of withdrawn in to my own world, just trying to cope with the building heat and the anxiety of being uncomfortable.<br /><br />So, this is the first point where I'd like to have <span style="color:#000000;"><strong>Charles</strong></span> fill in the details he remembers - from the start of the run to our approach in to Bean Station. But first, I have to tell you this great story about Mimi:<br /><br />As we were heading into Bean Station, I was walking with Mimi and we were talking. At one point, she asked me what our plans were, and so assuming she meant Charles and I, I launched into our whole story...beginning to end....really, really too much information!!! And Mimi is just so cool. She listened, and listened some more, and then after what must have felt like an eternity to her, she listened some more and finally said, "Not to take anything away from your disclosure, but when I asked what your plans were, I was talking about your plans for Rodgersville." Hahahaha!! I about died laughing... I will always remember that!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOtf1R3C_flBwmHaEgPvRte0cdwE9-549DHnsVRvcFpFpn0fDd5c-neG2ZXy1KyEKzyGD4JHz4hVoxnVAHCo-YQLocxBDR1JubH-PWuodVD1WxRBmjaImDWuX2WPzuFkCX8egyAscXkwE/s1600/DSCF3313.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654548312305517570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOtf1R3C_flBwmHaEgPvRte0cdwE9-549DHnsVRvcFpFpn0fDd5c-neG2ZXy1KyEKzyGD4JHz4hVoxnVAHCo-YQLocxBDR1JubH-PWuodVD1WxRBmjaImDWuX2WPzuFkCX8egyAscXkwE/s320/DSCF3313.jpg" /></a><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Right after a beautiful rainbow appeared..I started to feel good- finally!<br /></span></strong><br /><em>....Now, take it away, baby!<br /></em><br />{Written by Charles Raffensperger}…<br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;">The early part of the run was nice and for the first couple of miles we all stayed together as a group, talking and enjoying the only halfway cool part of the day. The humidity was high though as we alternated between running and walking and traded places back and forth along the shoulder that had by now broadened quite a bit.<br /></span><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654535299823606882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtX_lWWd3Y3xgYysXYfDuwQKjZh5LYjV_ItAMdHx7-FR6DHkpc0oayWw89LdE3Vl2RtBSdpJQskyUD-pR_cl3LKyblaa9Wr4_G-GPpr-JW9ejk4BWnhXP4TcZAGtaSGu1sPm1_UGpbGKs/s320/DSCF3316.jpg" /><br /><span style="color:#000000;">Mimi at one point crossed over to the right side of the road (running with traffic) and I wondered if she just wanted to be alone for awhile, until I realized that she was seeking out the shade on the Eastern side of the road – the only smart one in the bunch. We all followed suit as soon as we made this obvious connection! The theme then set in for the day – run when you can, walk when you wanted to cool down, and stop in every damn gas station or oasis along the way.</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgnpe1zM1RVqfqjTN1xnuF5OTSwoK3dqZQ0klYiPgbFren2KTyQVtEu4MiBCCvluVWita9es0UkfBOCrCpzMxXmD831qXeup_MJ7l3WwagTjEDQ2aAWdg5kjKepmV06TqMuKE9p9Myzio/s1600/DSCF3302.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654548812876047426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgnpe1zM1RVqfqjTN1xnuF5OTSwoK3dqZQ0klYiPgbFren2KTyQVtEu4MiBCCvluVWita9es0UkfBOCrCpzMxXmD831qXeup_MJ7l3WwagTjEDQ2aAWdg5kjKepmV06TqMuKE9p9Myzio/s320/DSCF3302.jpg" /></a> <strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Mimi and Charles and the ever present bag 'o ice at every stop!<br /></span></strong><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654530941534423234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCyYDV6wQ_DddA7iQxQO9LNK_fu6iGRtd5N_VkHtNekI3zfe_HoAlhV-jcahpSAdMQS5CrhcPQK4WlrjEowTlsllIgJDRcl9Q3HC2Ou9wLpwp31w1S8fzILzfFoHAJ6m_BuzaoKLlZpVk/s320/DSCF3304.jpg" /><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Ice cream shop of awesomeness</span></strong><br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;">Around the 16 mile mark we found a neat little ice cream shop and stopped in to cool down and enjoy the ice cream and shakes. Then on down the road to the next gas station…the road winds all the way up through a valley between 2 mountain ridges and is quite scenic. After another good stretch of roadway we saw the Rutledge city limit sign and eagerly anticipated the next stopping point – but in an evil twist they planted the city limits waaaaaaaayyyyyy out from the town because it seemed like several more miles before we hit civilization again!<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">Psyche was struggling quite a bit through here and all I could do was slow down and be patient – from past experience I knew she would come out of it sometime but really hated that she had to endure her discomfort. In retrospect forcing me to slow down here probably saved me. With air temps edging up to 98 and an even hotter road surface the shade was disappearing – since nearly all of our runs are on trails these days it was a tough reminder of just how difficult it can be to run on an exposed/paved surface…the cant of the road wasn’t bad but the motion of being on a flat surface can produce soreness in your legs, hips, and feet that no trail can.<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">The other striking memory of this 1st section of the road is the people we encountered at every gas station or stop. I know we seemed like aliens to the good country folk along the way – and although I’ve lived in Georgia nearly all of my life I found it nearly impossible to understand the strong accents of the people in this valley. It surely seemed like many people here have simply never been out of this valley!</span><span style="color:#000000;"> The typical conversation went something like this: “How far ya’ll hikin?”…”To Bristol”…”Wuh, how miny days will at take?” “We’re hoping to finish sometime tomorrow afternoon”…then they’d scratch their heads and walk away.<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">Asking for directions or information on the next town, restaurant, or gas station was an adventure in itself…”Are there any restaurants, fast food places, or any other places to eat on the bypass around town?”…”Naw, they’re ain’t nothing here, this is jus a hick town”….”How far is it to the road that cuts through town?”…”Maybe 1 mile, or 4, you go down there and you’ll see a road on the left, not the first road, maybe the 3rd, or fifth, and after you see that road, turn in and then go down a little ways and you’ll see the IGA…but if you see the IGA first you’ve gone too far, then back track to that other road, take a left, nah, make that a right, then go another 5 miles, and then you’ll be on the otha side a town, and it’s 7 or 12 miles to Rogersville from there…..”….(side note: there IS a nice Subway and a pizza place on the bypass around town!). </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654540320998383090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcCYWJlXCo1PN-dc6jEgJSYZpyaCkAs5kzd13cRfXVUc5TXWjm394nh-Y9myKo80RZ0RKSGNYJOt2W-WciPFQbOyWKQvJVGBOty2QUZ81gV4N_uz1oC6oPOmRnJBjT2645AMTxGfEykCM/s320/DSCF3321.jpg" /></span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Getting directions from the locals...</span></strong><br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;">In this way we made a track through Rutledge and Bean Station (and our apologies to the folks in “Bean Station” as we butchered the name as “Bean Town” on conversations with the locals!). Bean Station is where the worst traffic accident in Tennessee history took place along the Bloody 11W but we saw no markers to commemorate the site. It was here that Janet and Mimi went on ahead of Psyche and I (Naresh and Abi had long since left us – but at every stop we gathered information about our relative distance behind them). A stop at Subway around 9:45 was just what I needed in terms of food and foot care and off again we went into the darkness toward Rogersville and our aid drop at the Comfort Inn.<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654538928889318546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4sLDYNXGyI-FYmcoSJlYCSKO2LplEDzT0H6wXySJ6d68QBlHKpPLNIf50kAhycLDHRFtZFMrR4lCHW3KKPhGGQ1U4FZrDMNr-yNZsuwkslW9D1wm5K8slDOa9ytZsMmUnZPA22x-vV_Y/s320/DSCF3323.jpg" /><br /><br /></span><span style="color:#000000;">Since the middle of the afternoon Psyche had been feeling much better and we had a good time covering those miles. But the stretch from Bean Station to Rogersville was deceptively long (18 miles I think) and without any stores open it became very tough to keep going. It was still very humid and every time we tried to run I began to sweat uncontrollably. It also seemed like the road went steadily uphill the whole way but that was just our crazy perception at night – in reality much of this section is fairly level. Quite a few cars honked their horns at us and one drunk carload screamed out to try and startle us. I know Janet and Mimi were getting worried as we all tried to keep in phone contact for safety. At 1 in the morning we stopped at a small gas station that had just closed (damn, I really wanted a Coke!) but had a small bench out front. The dehydration was getting to me and I soon got sick. My feet were killing me also and I knew it was another 8 miles or so to the hotel.<br /><br />We found out from the women that they had arranged for Naresh to back track in his car from the hotel when he got there and pick all of us up. With my vomiting I knew it wouldn’t be prudent to continue so I decided to ride back – Psyche wanted to continue but running alone along the road with a bunch of drunks wasn’t a good idea so I convinced her to ride back. We rode back with Naresh and all 5 of us crashed in a room Janet has reserved. Abi was in another room with plans to rest a little while and continue on after a little rest.<br /><br />Naresh and Psyche got back up and continued on – the next morning Janet, Mimi, and I drove on up to drop me at my car and check on everyone.<br />Sunday was an incredible adventure as I alternated between checking on the remaining 3 runners, Abi, Naresh, and Psyche. The heat and distance were taking their toll on all 3 but they continued on…Abi toughed it out for the full 111 miles! I determined where the 100 mile distance was respectively for both Naresh and Psyche and was amazed at their perserverence at covering that distance despite the conditions!!! Psyche, watching you run down that final hill was simply unforgettable!!!<br /><br />Now the story has gotten a little muddled but here is the rest of Psyche’s report….<br /></span><span style="color:#000000;"><br /></span><br /><strong>Day Two</strong><br />At the hotel, I discovered that I did a <em>bloody </em>poor job of packing my drop bag. I had no shorts or shirt to <em>bloody</em> change into. I had not thought of the possibility of Charles not <em>bloody </em>continuing on with me, so I had no <em>bloody</em> money and not enough <em>bloody</em> fluids (ewwww) for the remainder of the run.<br /><br />But runners are awesome - Mimi gave me a shirt to wear, and I washed out my shorts and sports bra and dried them on the heater in the room. Charles gave me some cash to buy drinks and food with, and Janet offered up her blister kit to both Naresh and I.<br /><br />Our plan was this: Naresh and I would get a little bit of sleep, and head out together at about 4:00 a.m. We would finish, and if we still wanted to complete the entire highway, Charles would take us back to the convenience market to run the 8-mile stretch to the hotel.<br /><br />Naresh was able to sleep, but I merely rested for an hour or two. I was up and getting my stuff ready at 3:30. I woke Naresh up around 3:45 and told him I'd meet him in the lobby. We officially hit the Bloody 11W road again at 5:00 a.m.<br /><br />Since I had not run much with Naresh yesterday, I didn't realize he was fairly hobbled by giant blisters, and he was easing in to the morning's run. With the ever-present twinkle in his eye, Naresh regaled me with more stories of Vol State<span style="font-size:130%;">*</span>and we laughed... a lot. We enjoyed the second beautiful sunset in a row and eventually, about an hour later, I told Naresh I wanted to move ahead and see what I felt like.<br /><br />I was so surprised to find that I felt very good, and was actually running at a decent pace.<br /><br />Sometime around 10:00 a.m. Charles and I touched base and he informed me that Janet was taking him to his car, and then he would be crewing me, Naresh and Abi for the rest of the run.<br /><br />Thank god for this! At one point, I left my phone in a restroom at a Mobil Station and he had to go back and find it for me. In addition, he continually brought me ice for my hand helds, and I truly believe that if I did not have that as the heat of the day came on, the heat would have forced me to drop.<br /><br />I really wanted to finish 100 miles, and without Charles there to measure where the actual 100-mile point was for me (since I didn't run the 8 miles from the convenience store to the hotel) I would have had to finish the whole route just to be safe. I am so grateful I didn't have to run more than 100 miles!!!<br /><br />The toughest miles were indeed from about mile 82 to the finish. There were times where I felt I was moving really well, but then Charles would come by in the car and I'd find out I'd only gone a mile or 2. I wanted to cry I was so discouraged.<br /><br />The heat became unbearable around 2:00 p.m. I stopped in every place I could to cool off and get something to drink. I started living for the next Dr. Pepper I could get. I remember I walked in to a Walgreen's and was opening the soda and downing it as I was paying for it. It never even occurred to me what I must have looked like to them!<br /><br />That was also the store where I called Charles to let him know I stopped in a "WalMart" and then as I was talking to him, I forgot why I thought he needed to know that. Awkward silence, and then I think I just hung up the phone. THEN I remembered it was so he wouldn't miss me when he went by. Then I forgot to call him back. Wild.<br /><br />At one point, I had a truck full of rednecks play chicken with me, tryying to scare me and drive me off the road. Shortly after that, I had to take my contacts out because they were so dry I couldn't see anything anyways.<br /><br />And my feet hurt so bad, well, there are just no words for how bad they hurt. Eventually, after Naresh finished his 100-mile run, he was with Charles when I was about to finish mine. As I stopped to talk to them, Naresh told me to put all my weight forward on my feet to keep the blood from running into them- it would hurt less. I remember thinking, "How f**ked up is that?" And then laughing.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654554469568649154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7y4zacz2OLrFsdgP7y5kIW5dgJnBS6wBJS4dT62i2MU95mPoC7SQgg4oBbgc70qbluCpILQiP8GnuLAXs4pV5TneBIYCQvbsd6Re7Jv3cv4Z7ftTyf_xN8noD4_97eQB8EQyIt9Mkj5E/s320/DSCF3326.jpg" /><br />Just moments later, I was actually finishing a.... 100....mile....run...of awesomeness, friendship, and adventure.<br /><br /><strong>Bloody RESULTS!<br /></strong>Abigail Meadows : 35:29 (Ran the whole 111 miles)<br />Naresh Kumar : 34:04 (100 Miles)<br />Psyche Wimberly : 35:25 (100 Miles)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpq4eGPgacQBhweOY2iE2FZsSfajSZXvSvNwsqUDv5EYIf9JIqHQOM15cHqYtHqikDry8XCa8Ga871mbDAPYe3brgfP8FG2rJHloCkbau1uc11hMmCBbAejLzT0-YTAdAVbTJnK5vUI50/s1600/End+11w.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655185240448337266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpq4eGPgacQBhweOY2iE2FZsSfajSZXvSvNwsqUDv5EYIf9JIqHQOM15cHqYtHqikDry8XCa8Ga871mbDAPYe3brgfP8FG2rJHloCkbau1uc11hMmCBbAejLzT0-YTAdAVbTJnK5vUI50/s320/End+11w.jpg" /></a><br />In conclusion, this run was an unforgettable experience to me for so many reasons, and I'm honored to have been a part of the legacy of the inaugural Bloody 11W.<br /><br />This run embodied everything an ultrarunning challenge should hold true to...namely that of solely internal motivation, planning, and execution without the help of a paid entry fee where many of the worries and logistics are left to that of RD and crew. It was all that, and more. According to Naresh and Abi, it was very much like a mini-Vol State, in which case my desire to run THAT race just grew about a hundred fold (get it? A HUNDRED fold!)<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">*</span> <span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>The "text conversation" I had with Charles after reading </strong><a href="http://runnareshrun.blogspot.com/2011/08/runwalkeatsleep-last-annual-vol-state.html"><strong>Naresh's race report for Vol State </strong></a><strong>went something like this: </strong></span><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">:</span> <em>I hate to tell you this, sweetie, but I'm gonna need to take 10 days off from work in July to run Vol State. </em></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">Charles:</span> </span><em><span style="font-size:85%;">WHAT?? Are you shitting me?<span style="color:#ffffff;"> </span></span></em><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">Me:</span> <em>No, I'm dead serious.</em><span style="color:#ffffff;"> </span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">Charles:</span> <em>You are amazing, and I love you so much. </em></span></strong><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><span style="color:#ffffff;">Me</span>: <em>: )))))</em></strong> </span>Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-12021787612836006432011-08-26T08:44:00.007-04:002011-08-26T15:22:22.179-04:00Dupont Forest Waterfall Bonanza 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilla-4b7qhz22wzqTl4DBiV9He-jsZeczgiYSecCHY6XKZa3riUit4ni9c8MyrfUlCVkqMJBgkj4zqpMc3lNSfZrCR9A2_G7OdCY5-CJpwLx3FA6r6f3FZH-ApQytfwsoRdGmCil5XXN0/s1600/Mt_Pisgah.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644256606963500434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilla-4b7qhz22wzqTl4DBiV9He-jsZeczgiYSecCHY6XKZa3riUit4ni9c8MyrfUlCVkqMJBgkj4zqpMc3lNSfZrCR9A2_G7OdCY5-CJpwLx3FA6r6f3FZH-ApQytfwsoRdGmCil5XXN0/s320/Mt_Pisgah.jpg" border="0" /></a> This weekend was the 7th running of Adam Hill's <a href="http://wnctrailrunner.wikispaces.com/Dupont+Waterfall+Bonanza">Dupont Waterfall Bonanza. </a> This year, Charles was here to run with me and as a bonus, we got a little Pitchell training run in the night before.
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<br />...Because like you, the first thing we think after signing up for a 22-mile adventure run is, <em><strike>"What would Carl Laniak do?"</strike> “Man, how can we make this even MORE adventure-y?”</em>
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<br />OK, I admit, you might not actually think that way. But I know at least 8 people who DO, and that makes me a very lucky girl.
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<br /><strong>PART I: </strong><strong>Friday Night Pitchell Preview/ Reverse Shut In Night Run</strong>
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<br />For those of you who don't know what the Pitchell is, it's yet <em>another</em> awesome annual run hosted by Mad A, usually in October, whereby you start at midnight on the summit of Mt. Pisgah and run, hike, and crawl 67 miles to the finish on the summit of Mt. Mitchell.
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<br />It's a fire breathing B....E.....A...S....T.
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<br />Having run about 50 miles of the 67 mile course last year, I've made the Pitchell one of 2011's very few focused race attempts. To say I am STOKED about this run is a complete understatement.
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<br />Now, if you don't know what the Shut In Trail is, then <strike>you shouldn't be reading this blog</strike> go <a href="http://www.shutinridgerun.com/">here</a>.
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<br />On Friday night, 8 of us met at the French Broad River Bridge, and discussed various scenarios of shuttling cars up and down the trail. Charles and I decided to run from the Pisgah parking lot to Beaver Dam Gap with Dave Pryor and his dog, Pepper, while everyone else was in for the full 18, and Mohammed was in for additional bonus miles (and bonus POINTS for driving up from Charlotte just for Pitchell training).
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<br />For Charles, a Reverse Shut In run would serve as both his first (is that right?) look at the Pitchell course and his first time on the Shut In Trail. What a cool introduction, huh? On the way up the BRP to Mt. Pisgah, I really enjoyed watching him take in the beauty of the Parkway and the mountains. I feel so lucky to live in such a special place.
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<br />This was a really cool night training run (but then, any run that includes good friends, dogs, and moonshine is bound to be cool).
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<br /><strong>PART II : Waterfall Bonanza 2011</strong>
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<br />Fresh from both hours of sleep, we arrived at the Hooker Falls parking lot the next morning in plenty of time to catch up with old friends, even if just for a minute. It was fantastic to see Jon and Melissa Harrison again- and their awesome dog Luna. They have had an amazing summer, and I was really looking forward to catching up on their adventures in Spain.
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<br />Adam arrived about 9 a.m., passed out maps of the route to everyone, and after a couple of group pictures, we all took off from the parking lot and ran up the paved road for the first mile or so.
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<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645157127667803170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvLOHUPh_vRz02n6OBvAX5IW9iw1z6imk6oqe3G0KqsIOVlY5AsJN1RlNqyYzvthA4yLGEQcwWtcu6Ds3NCf8Q77xxAorb8jI0gQf_unwEYXgswE6Fth7OzpQp033_Qpg4BVapHO-Lfw/s320/DSCF3215.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645157133130290146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCDglfV_nWqCkZjzR8cH23qP014iKbREtFTaW8QA753jO3ivbc1-OxsEUxbXGfgHusswwQMkopOO-JWd6GLmOTz4S7UCFQyHqEi5c0w8ssQSwj3DaX9GnxbaL2rpEsmvOgxQOt-ncgFF4/s320/DSCF3216.jpg" border="0" />
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<br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644485734710702194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIOahjpXEJw1gXWVBBP56JTw2AIcuQYfhmqxLuhkPVCZ7OkHj0MUZjkzRfMob0DuRJZKJQdlx3sDuOZ_e1-QIV9CWnt0yLY-zbZiKHZtN4xq6M7ApUHVMJdJW3h0OTXNQLDOkQwCMtTEE/s320/DSCF3213.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-size:85%;">
<br /></span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644485733244539378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAk_BqnO-x84838I0866s7mLJxZLr0ujAurk_DnbxtCO0KoxJU3BjsfiZ7OJdmVebYU4HpiKinddtEKygvwvYAZeU5Z_hRmI1a_MyC0C9vqUedRgjX0QDp6-KV9rL8xH2HhC1-oRu18ck/s320/DSCF3212.jpg" border="0" />
<br />I do remember hating the first paved mile or so of this run from last year, and I decided to walk some of it with Gail Leedy. What I failed to remember from last year was how much of the early miles are uphill, and how it seems like you will <em>never</em> arrive at the first falls.
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<br />We ran with Lily and Jon and Melissa for most of this first part, diligently retrieving the pretty pink trail flags and giving them to Luna.
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<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644485727844984306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfGVEEM0gmPnvEjmpc7LvkACH2H5Fupncp6G_o5SiiBloSHPeB5tzQdkEaASW15FswEUudI0Nx5Myiejz2C4kyvmB17jxxKwfPVvduH_hp7dm5w_BlkbWRU8Thy3eZ26_J5xFXG67Rut0/s320/DSCF3217.jpg" border="0" />
<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644418270348825394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLSxXoOCNB3DBFfzs3OoOEv3_ex3GaiKZwqa8WJPGODLM3UtQnDYM08hkZz2NNT9XAx3OayUJoiYlBLLHXDXJ5sH9SoaVH5KCQQTYENAARXzWRyXdiphmXsWld34iDe0VaSdm6t7RPQOg/s320/DSCF3218.jpg" border="0" />
<br />About 8 very long miles later, we arrived at Bridal Veils Falls. Awesome!
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<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644488240921932546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgppSybNJPEUumHFSJC8m8QuEQMZEIl0lZdOeDl7E6un9G2M3v5EF2HFDLpEGSaA3VaJshnlmj34zuU6TRWS-CV_SsjA6EoccdTQPeUCyo0bo78sCrQjyhS9kAgtqH54_WBojC4y_LwJGY/s320/DSCF3224.jpg" border="0" />
<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644488247697285938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG-KJdXGin6TAMtCmwRNdFo4djBsvn5A47zinm8aV9mAEyBF5IbrEB5cmtXsRuhiWRWVfZvkqNC792825bK_ADlkW8nZqA9DFOz2bYkqxOjALj2ldx2puI2VL1YzNrxNA3mk9uiDjr5gU/s320/DSCF3223.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644488252638584114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNVWMehfEZJ_BfGizc0IvY3qVBtbQIFWqhq-s3HDhkgVhroN7Q-N_gfkCSvEvFw4rERUEdOXaq2afIdEaLFJpFdNu9AEzM2gqeyt_RwCMaAtMPtNR-8ax5534xQiXj6Q06UqJ0JP4AvkI/s320/DSCF3225.jpg" border="0" />
<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644488251414522274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWMssvgb6w0kAP7rW1bd86alQKotzKm-ZbJS21kmUC72oKa_sN8Tr0DgEvvMQVuuFR0iN3arMKtEsV4Z1MXC6oIK8uZuy_I-K9IEQsSmRYRqMn5vj3uhBEbNGIgYrFj0o-XYvGnZGrcoU/s320/DSCF3229.jpg" border="0" />
<br />After Bridal Veil Falls, we followed the trail for about 1/2 mile to the spot where the 10-mile folks turned in a different direction to head back. We were following the 22-mile route, so we ran another 10 miles before we finally hit Wintergreen Falls.
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<br />This section was tough. The humidity was getting to me, and I was starving, and after a while I was just done. But I have to admit, this section was quite beautiful, and included a very cool lake (of which I did not get a picture) and a very, very unusual tree.
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<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644496343664162946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh31zznG7ncWgEXjEjK0cRMhghH3Wr0IBjWO0j8PpbM8EdkCzLJfTXebXUVv2FRwhyP7EKLfl295v1cJCkTEhc4JzxmdMCDtpKovDRGIvb7bjHfs-oUZAe6_nH0bJxhA1z_Kh-5g2gHAtc/s320/DSCF3232.jpg" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644496348532561586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH63R6JHsJxVVDLcmyQ_anIkasuZ-sGwHNJze4_l6cOct4kTYtcQTZ0QrtzNAb8RKV9-yxK_Wfan84yipC2_lhl6fJmPtvuPc_E240EW5MkpXZvb8lygV6wJTOly0YChjcCCR_46rI0_M/s320/DSCF3234.jpg" border="0" />
<br />The remainder of the run was a death march, and I couldn't wait for it to end so we could go to the post run get together at the Foxworth's. We een by-passed a couple of the last waterfalls since we had just visited them a month or so ago.
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<br />In summary, <strike>this is a really lame race report</strike> this is a really cool run and a great way to see all 6 waterfalls in Dupont State Forest. If you're in it for the waterfalls, I recommend the 10-mile loop. Last year, I ran the 10-mile loop twice. With less mileage and more waterfalls, it was the way to go.
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<br />I hate that I just was not feeling it out there, but we had an absolute blast at the Foxworth's house afterward. I'm still laughing at the impromptu "calf off"shenanigans!!
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<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644975834540431698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj49iz2pp3My2RE8tJvMnoG1HWM7Aqjo8zb1Maq3WvpKm0IH9BX5G8pWoBSqfw3HB1futXicMZ8GmfwQMEELB9RVMUoxNieIchdJRoItWefaCx1o4W0Lz8YpU0Ln0JIImxsJGfp9oUOzUg/s320/DSCF3239.jpg" border="0" /></span>
<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644975833441876562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_EfVrvIuw41In1rlYCEFemFbaIiCUWZNxbq1U6nzytOF6GkfEtnueTaCjN7BnHs3cp8F5cy2-bbhzkqbIwsaOtPVoYG-CRZMB9IHzj0H9LvLQ-QFN0VJCvL1RsA48uPPStZp-ypKxQOc/s320/DSCF3237.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644975837617059954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfEwQQUHw-H5pnEJelr4TnQYUBDk6Cup0op1G_s4VB7Ul0Xd0B_WV5b7BYuHMd6ft3_M0Sz6TU7VFatE8gIrFxVcszO4Jhh6P8dpR8x2kqCkgeiy_rc7VuZ_rzePjI8skaTeCQFPgjeLM/s320/DSCF3238.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644976472971875810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAVOzM8hGMbPkqVfMFixczB39jNL4GXdO7_ltFBOuawOYvuRbWmr8fuu59JdaW7YerOC206KKUWeEgcLZeK9rPsAzTjm270pQxWbgvVf3IAv-1RFeMlxCpDChe7YCiG0SNAtZJHfCfJPY/s320/DSCF3240.jpg" border="0" />
<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644976477963065986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyphenhyphenQ18spxHm-7ezx3ElShXFiDAEXtyZ6fl4jGvWZZnqupSTvQ7w_kt7UaRXukZacwztxA4lyPCOAr98k1Bz_9FFoxgEP4XSwnPOHi18z5wO-kL3kXHcFhkA_je0DgH2ybxozPUBaRtIEw/s320/DSCF3241.jpg" border="0" />
<br />Thanks for the awesome run, Adam, and thanks for a great post-run gathering Terry and Nicole. See ya next year! </p></div></div>
<br />Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-61631759191146770012011-08-15T15:44:00.019-04:002011-08-15T16:25:31.137-04:00A New Twist on Running Efficiency<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><strong>From:</strong> UltraRunning magazine [mailto:subscriptions@ultrarunning.com]
<br /><strong>Sent:</strong> Monday, August 15, 2011 3:32 PM
<br /><strong>To:</strong> Psyche Wimberly
<br /><strong>Subject: Your UltraRunning subscription has expired</strong></span>
<br /></span>
<br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Dear UR subscriber,
<br />
<br />Your UltraRunning subscription expired with the August issue. We hope you will renew! UltraRunning magazine is full of information on training, nutrition, and useful products, as well as plenty of inspiration, beautiful photographs, and race reports and results from around the country.
<br />
<br />We are now letting everyone know their renewal status by email. This will save you the risk of paper cuts from opening an envelope, let you put energy into a run instead of looking around for your checkbook, and no doubt will also save a few trees in the process!
<br />
<br />We encourage you to renew your UltraRunning subscription online via our secure website. All you need to do is click on this link:
<br />
<br /><a href="http://ultrarunning.com/ultra/about/subscribe-online.shtml">http://ultrarunning.com/ultra/about/subscribe-online.shtml</a> </span>
<br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><http:>
<br />and it will take you from there. Please take a moment to renew now before you misplace this email or forget! This will ensure that you don’t miss any issues. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to contact us at subscriptions@ultrarunning.com or lisah@ultrarunning.com.
<br />
<br />Thank you for your support of UltraRunning – The Voice of the Sport since 1981 - and for helping us with this greener approach to renewals. If you prefer to renew by mail, please use our postal address below.
<br />
<br />Best regards, </span>
<br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span>
<br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Carol King</span>
<br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;">SUBSCRIPTIONS MANAGER</span>
<br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="color:#000099;">ULTRARUNNING MAGAZINE</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span></span>
<br />
<br /><span style="font-family:arial;">
<br />
<br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><strong>From:</strong> Psyche Wimberly
<br /><strong>Sent:</strong> Monday, August 15, 2011 4:39 PM
<br /><strong>To:</strong> UltraRunning magazine [mailto:subscriptions@ultrarunning.com]
<br /><strong>Subject: Your UltraRunning subscription has expired</strong></span>
<br />
<br />
<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Dear UltraRunning Magazine,
<br />
<br />I am happy to report my subscription to UR does not require renewal as this wonderful sport has spawned yet another "ultra couple".
<br />
<br />In a terribly efficient move, Charles Raffensperger and I will be cutting our subscription needs by 50%, as we find only one subscription of UR per household is truly necessary. We are deliriously happy to be evading the ever-present risk of paper cuts in the process, not to mention saving a few trees!
<br />
<br />See you OUT THERE,
<br />
<br />Psyche Wimberly
<br /></span>
<br />
<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"></span>
<br />Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-41575644113929884382011-07-26T00:23:00.002-04:002011-07-26T10:04:46.261-04:00File This Under "Livin'"<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiNelLpDg330qXifN2sQ39hsRKqaYr3k0OQ_-LRMm1B8PF_oSfZTnLheDcA2zSKdVVdyCapErWizBbNK4IQLFNDALALVcVNAxs7h4wUN8ccuxFskvC21964sQzVKKHS93cIk5yT2QR_Jk/s1600/weeds4.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 253px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633504890832060498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiNelLpDg330qXifN2sQ39hsRKqaYr3k0OQ_-LRMm1B8PF_oSfZTnLheDcA2zSKdVVdyCapErWizBbNK4IQLFNDALALVcVNAxs7h4wUN8ccuxFskvC21964sQzVKKHS93cIk5yT2QR_Jk/s320/weeds4.jpg" /></a>I know, I know...I've been away, and you miss me.<br /><br /><strong>You:</strong> "Psyche, where have you been? Are you injured? Are you sick? Do you even run any more? Why haven't you written about Chattooga or that crazy ass FHT spur trail run? WTF? I need my Psyche fix!" <em>OK, I added that last part. Me...</em><em>and Dave Pryor</em>.<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> "Uh, well...the truth is <strike>I've become addicted to watching Weeds and I've spent the last three weeks catching up on all 6 seasons you can rent </strike>I'm still here, not injured, not sick (at least in any way anybody can prove), and currently running 50-65 miles per week. More or less. About to be more. <br /><br />Running wise, life is very good. I'm running fewer, more adventure-y runs this year. That leaves me plenty of time to finalize my divorce, sell the house, re-arrange my life and work my ass off to pay for said re-arranged life. Not to mention all the time it takes to fully embrace life anew and thoroughly enjoy being crazy in love. Giddyup.<br /><br />And speaking of <strike>really lame segueways </strike>more adventure-y runs, Charles and I recently ran a hell of a run on the FHT blue spur trail. We ran 50K from Sassafras Mountain to Hwy. 276 and back, with side trips to Raven Cliff Falls and the overlook...We finished at 11pm in a rainstorm with a 700 foot climb straight up Sassafras. (Can you say super bad-ass?)<br /><br />Yeah, you may have hiked up Sassafras Mountain from the Table Rock State Park side, but don't be fooled... the Caesars Head approach is not as easy. It's chock full 'o steep ascents and descents and as an out-and-back 50K, consists of over 8,000 feet of climbing in total. Adding to the difficulty is the fact that the trail is highly underused and very overgrown in places.<br /><br />Oh, and along the way we inadvertently crashed a wedding while blaring Eminem, were attacked mercilessly by biting flies, and had encounters with 2 groups of bear hunters and their dogs. <em>It's like I can't leave the parking lot without having a major adventure with Charles.</em><br /><br /><strong>Next up:</strong> Rounding up the other poor suckers who're attempting the Pitchell to see if we can't schedule some time on the MST in preparation. <em>Also a little thang called the Bloody 11W 100-Miler</em><br /><br />Stay tuned...I promise to write about all the good stuff : )Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-63596086042975349202011-06-16T09:58:00.005-04:002011-06-16T12:09:41.145-04:005th Annual RAM<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMpjEJVLwF9-hkYQu_cDNnARQD6if1kjRO2vEcFxYJFo-e5MvQcbY-0ump5EAQ-sQ0P_rW30uUBNDMUbJi022QXDRH_gsGAXZzcz5rmflZCmHqVLfep8sdXhPxr-pkuskgo3NHmJGT_wg/s1600/5th+RAM+Start.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617887632954062834" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMpjEJVLwF9-hkYQu_cDNnARQD6if1kjRO2vEcFxYJFo-e5MvQcbY-0ump5EAQ-sQ0P_rW30uUBNDMUbJi022QXDRH_gsGAXZzcz5rmflZCmHqVLfep8sdXhPxr-pkuskgo3NHmJGT_wg/s320/5th+RAM+Start.png" border="0" /></a>This year was the 5th running of the Roan Adventure Marathon (RAM), an annual run hosted by <a href="http://mohammednc.blogspot.com/">Sultan</a>. With the insane 2nd half climb and views from atop the Round, Jane, Grassy Ridge and Hump Mountain Balds, this 28-29 mile speed hike/ mountain run is fast becoming one my most favorite ultra’s of all time.<br /><br />Planned around the rhodo blooming season, the pink shrub was in full bloom this year. Beautiful! The view from Roan Bald to Jane’s Bald was especially pink, as the rhodos were in bloom all along the mountain.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjthq1Mc8WeOM8rr5JOkD0HuOAAnbePF71nOK8_F6EKsWGCvN-lDPKNG8hQCWi6wezf7XzOL2rptcUsFsHDNG3ceukRRAnMLIlq2H4SiisDbzkZW0J90Hgc-sO5sKA4S6DEtErAEa-jlqs/s1600/RAM+2011+133.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIZ9Vw6a3Z3_lhyphenhyphenImmw2wv8YDKJcJi2sQBZHKyiE0aC00qZhLHa_4g88xzRUqloRfr3kadgFOoexLlnAC8YLnOTRBUNq6Sk4W_IF_Hmb5rExA3aGiRPvg5PSaB-SmW6_oZq5wfgX5QeLM/s1600/RAM+2011+077.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617891958886749506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIZ9Vw6a3Z3_lhyphenhyphenImmw2wv8YDKJcJi2sQBZHKyiE0aC00qZhLHa_4g88xzRUqloRfr3kadgFOoexLlnAC8YLnOTRBUNq6Sk4W_IF_Hmb5rExA3aGiRPvg5PSaB-SmW6_oZq5wfgX5QeLM/s320/RAM+2011+077.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRQm_AcCF0I6mvW5peVMi7zy6TAJNW4Ld-fEEMf_blgWiJtQDeoqkAjbvJopjBFcQDmDUTQXhMOXXWC_xvoRMoOO9yYFqBxpJcI9sbBWmhB9KVa0YFTjgCnbGzLZ9hCVT-JhJlfg4mbCc/s1600/RoanMountainBig15.jpg"><br /></a><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617893392569226562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyWPiIGn99ZKlJMchavkKT6sXtD6Rxr4OwkxmmCOAz5k8iGmeOu6W9ApkMPiiflTwK-iEf2cJN62LgBL-qNxrSWxK4-fiZDP9BNkOa8kHZyI0L0zxAZhGY1nDqjfQKUHRq8sXNUtvTa68/s320/RoanMountainBig15.jpg" border="0" /></span><br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">The Course/ Beat Down</span><br />The run starts at the top of Carvers Gap (5,512 feet) and is run downhill to Hwy 19E all along the AT. Once you reach 19E then you are thoroughly punished by retracing your path back to the start, which means climbing 6,000 feet uphill for 13.7 miles back to Carvers Gap. Try and negative split that one, yo!<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8bZm5BTGJIXcRGkDWCQHjwFeVuiNQw6yKALbJRJ-YhFnOWzuWyi-NPF3X6j-40O3s7vOlWS2fC7QM15fKosozJjo8P4EFWZe9T2HJNWrnbKTWc157cn1hIn_Ma0eNkT1OkduHLr85cY/s1600/roan_mtn_cartography.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617888237359862146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 402px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 205px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8bZm5BTGJIXcRGkDWCQHjwFeVuiNQw6yKALbJRJ-YhFnOWzuWyi-NPF3X6j-40O3s7vOlWS2fC7QM15fKosozJjo8P4EFWZe9T2HJNWrnbKTWc157cn1hIn_Ma0eNkT1OkduHLr85cY/s320/roan_mtn_cartography.jpg" border="0" /></a></span><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">The Who’s Who of Who Ran Roan</span> (# of previous finishes):<br />Brandon Thrower<br />Hannah Griffith (half)<br />Stan Austin (1)<br />Scott Williams (half)<br />Sultan (4)<br />John Lewis (2)<br />Damian Wells<br />Adam Hill (1)<br />Michael Rowe (half)<br />Jeremy Hargroves (1)<br />Psyche Wimberly (1)<br />Leopold (half)<br />Keith Mrocheck<br />Doug<br />Others? (Seems like several runners showed up at the last minute)<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Awesome Volunteer:</span><br />Hayley Roper Wells<br /><br /><strong>How It All Unfolded:</strong> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijM9FMFxj8TyPHEo-_vclANZYxCyKFmXF3PlIj6M992bf1KvdbNbTnpLYN6QnpYt1bGNqoe8kFTmNf3sjkVDXa8VNjLFXtbeyaCKqcXsmsEQpO6Tr5bfTfrrPjP7dwnXWnkDsOs2s11ug/s1600/254153_2151797675675_1268375776_32658403_530328_n.jpg"></a><br />Leopold and I celebrated his last day of school by heading up to Carver's Gap late Friday afternoon. We expected a lot more people to turn out for camping, but the majority of people showed up for the run the next day.<br /><br />We carried our gear up the mountain to pitch our tent, and I was surprised (and dismayed) to discover I was breathing so hard I had to keep taking rest breaks! Good lord, I thought, how am I going to handle that climb tomorrow if I can't even get up Roan Bald? (Later, I would feel a lot better when I watched Stan go through the same process).<br /><br />Camping that night were Leopold and myself, Jeremy Hargroves, Haley and Damian Roper, Stan Austin, and Scott Williams. As it got dark, we all settled in for the treat that is camping on Roan Bald by enjoying some delicious hopstatic homebrew and good conversation.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTu5RoGTTZqvtJ3jGyjofVKE-qZjK8Kpu_zBw6SmB8VCOAPge1iXA6GiU6WKU9L3cHdPbHDXogrQCbWdIpVOHgdR2EqrLo87ReT6wUDPC59kiceUu2bBZVydg2MCJ1NODs0emx8cRbjxY/s1600/RAM+2011+068.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617893994542607378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTu5RoGTTZqvtJ3jGyjofVKE-qZjK8Kpu_zBw6SmB8VCOAPge1iXA6GiU6WKU9L3cHdPbHDXogrQCbWdIpVOHgdR2EqrLo87ReT6wUDPC59kiceUu2bBZVydg2MCJ1NODs0emx8cRbjxY/s320/RAM+2011+068.JPG" border="0" /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"></span></a><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfw697s8EzqoduKZGAPkO-LXTU8gEJ3Db1zg4Kjs9pzmsIxF-oP3tRJ52-o2BUHTnXNbkPDi1jL-uGPH8ETF2JBjaGWRsyzFvsAiF1P-FRxUASdyWkddDGpWgOn-p-2DcjPI-4vAC1e9o/s1600/RAM+2011+064.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617893999809361570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfw697s8EzqoduKZGAPkO-LXTU8gEJ3Db1zg4Kjs9pzmsIxF-oP3tRJ52-o2BUHTnXNbkPDi1jL-uGPH8ETF2JBjaGWRsyzFvsAiF1P-FRxUASdyWkddDGpWgOn-p-2DcjPI-4vAC1e9o/s320/RAM+2011+064.JPG" border="0" /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"></span></span></a></span></span><br />As we broke down camp in the morning, Sultan checked in with us to make sure we all knew what to expect and then we had some fun trying to get a "Sultan pose" for us campers.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618278598777262754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj28LHSVxWrat16mzC_rrBX7DDGXSn1Y_FbN1usX7pM_k_-irtVOPM33O0m4Hg-KuT3RBr8tX83xodLyn5N5xs8A9qefjWinh96EOEoVyCWTjXcQiGU2U7NPV0-W8bUvsPXYAyKTKasmeI/s320/RAM+2011+071.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617894002954882290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6WGUKGZ98np0b4KIyYZyDfS18jHXoiBJuSmpDTnzUQUSd-cUjPYufKN0vBpLYZU5IEdnBd7v6Jcg4kf8GjhcRBfpsE4IgscIPOrNgLZE3KPtaeYdyCo1RM9NDNXyIQ3zgW86J1MxR7jo/s320/RAM+2011+072.JPG" border="0" /><br />My plan for the run was to run with Leopold down to 19E, whereby he would be eventually shuttled back to Carver's Gap by Hayley, who was serving as our Aid Station (thank you, Hayley!). I was looking forward to taking it easy on the 1st half and trying to run a little harder on the way back. I hoped to beat my 2nd half time of 4:50 from last year.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif1sZUmMHYazjzxtOgiou83a0Sfe-i1jJdNQDgPZtyotKiG2e6EZBHW2VJh5LjnNJavp1nnluKx0T_U9WGaeCKlsLqJHPadc7J6ngJmHD0K_JhSC6X6YOT3d4B-VTOB0dW6bGBttifreE/s1600/RAM+2011+079.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618558847323022210" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif1sZUmMHYazjzxtOgiou83a0Sfe-i1jJdNQDgPZtyotKiG2e6EZBHW2VJh5LjnNJavp1nnluKx0T_U9WGaeCKlsLqJHPadc7J6ngJmHD0K_JhSC6X6YOT3d4B-VTOB0dW6bGBttifreE/s320/RAM+2011+079.JPG" border="0" /></a><strong>Part I: Carver's Gap to 19E</strong><strong></strong><br /><em>A lost runner, a bear, and an illusive rock.<br /></em><br />I have to say it was a <em>blast</em> running with Leopold. It was a freaking hot day (like 80 degrees+) so Leopold and I kept a leisurely pace and traded off leading for the first part of the run.<br /><br />Our first shot at getting lost came at the Grassy Ridge trail junction. Sure, there's a sign. And sure, the sign has an arrow pointing to the right for Grassy Ridge and to the left for the AT.<br /><br /><here's>But can I just say that this sign is <em>unusually</em> small. This picture does not do its smallness justice. This in itself struck me as strange considering how well marked the AT is. I had just been telling Leopold that I found it strange how many metal posts with reflective lights you come across on the AT. Personally, these ruin a little bit of the trail experience for me. Anyway, I looked right at this sign and thought both of the skinny little arrows pointed to the right.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618519566324632146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiESjrclN2ZOopx_gibU4cKyMEiscJLhuR6NBB2nd6OqMKfJRauJIBERnjWWCxkc3YW9aQrIcsJmwzGqFYwuLmVs7WOxzT2XR-Dqc6W1QH_52A0ouwDwxj1TKA3W11WZ9L5VVgLOApLRVY/s320/c3e475f4-1426-4def-b9b0-f29136b6106f.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />However, after taking just a few steps down the Grassy Ridge Trailhead, I turned around to double check. I thought, "Why would both arrows be pointing in the same direction? <em>What's to the left, the unknown, unnamed trail</em>?" I'm glad I double checked, as I was about to take us on a detour to Grassy Ridge! We deftly made a course correction (please, no applause) and joined the run back on the AT.<br /><br />Apparently, I was not alone in the observation of this sign. John Lewis took the Grassy Ridge Express Trail to Bushwacking and ended up, you guessed it, bush wacking his way back to the AT, then eventually hitch hiking back to Carver's Gap! Dude had a major adventure, and part of me is a tiny bit jealous! (But then I saw the welts all over his legs and got over it).<br /><br />By now, Leopold and I had fallen enough behind everyone that all the wildlife the other runners had scared off had had time to return. I tell you, slowness pays off in so many ways. Today, we were rewarded with the adventure of scaring a bear off the trail. For real.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618519876850304498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 256px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 156px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzE7vvGL3SkxFxw5VFj8JYW-FxamgO4gID5byqqhOM-TaaT29fJNFlDDnmcY80E6zCubMdHCwyoTwoAbNATZ0NEyBjztWzn9RCE0Cr4b8JG668hbYNeUo_kJMBwSt1vdcRJ4biXma2BTc/s320/GrizzlyDivingOffTrail.jpg" border="0" /><br />OK, it was not a Grizzly. And it certainly did not <em>dive</em> off the trail. But it was still a bear, and as we approached on the trail we heard it snort and run away. It was big. And it was very exciting! I'll never forget the look on Leopold's face.<br /><br />Before the summit of Big Hump, we saw Keith Mrochek on his way back. He had turned around early, and as he passed by he stopped and chatted for a few minutes. He was leaving early, but he had had a great time and had also avoided most of the heat.<br /><br />At the summit of Big Hump we took another break. We sat on the fence and listened to the awesomeness that is <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=My-P4LssMsI">FOTC's "Too Many Mutha Ucka's</a>". I bet we were a site to behold- sitting there connected by ear buds, singing at the top of our lungs:<br /><br /><br /><blockquote><em><span style="color:#66ffff;">Too many mutha uckas<br />Uckin' with my shi-<br />My transactional shi-!<br />There's too many mutha uckas<br />Uckin' with my shi-<br />My weekly statement shi-!<br />My weekly statement shi-!<br />Too many mutha uckas<br />Uckin' with my shi-<br />With my balance shi-!<br />How many mutha uckas?<br />Too many to count<br />Mutha uckas<br /></span></em></blockquote><br /><br />I told Leopold about this very cool, very big, flat rock in a clearing of trees where Dave Pryor, Dave Petroski and I took a break last year. I made it sound so inviting that he, too, was soon dreaming of laying on the rock's cold smooth surface and staring up at the sky through the leafy canopy. He kept asking if we were almost there. Funny thing about these long runs is that I remember almost everything, but never in the right order!<br /><br />We were getting pretty close to the turn around and I had not seen the rock yet. Turns out, it's right after Doll Flats, but it's off the trail. And being determined not to get lost, I let the adventure slip away. Sorry, Leopold. If it's any consolation, here's a lovely picture of this magical, yet ilusive, place:<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618522001960846834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9o3102LJEAV3Owv9qfFCgUyYT-06v5Rpbjfsc0CjQZUMf38ks5YHKo0d96FDvVeEvto4XAqQuqCpzZLSmzG1G6bv-93HWn5AFXsIUea7lBOFA1UXgcNx29c_bHmPHeHVFEhwchQgRKNE/s320/RAM+2011+115.JPG" border="0" /><br />As we made our way closer to 19E, we began to see the other runners who were now on their way back. Jeremy literally flew by us, which is so much more impressive if you knew the rocky, technical section we were on. Soon, we encountered Adam, then Brandon, Damian, Sultan, Doug and Stan. Everyone was looking amazing!<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618525746630174082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOjMZDQEve0PUpLWhQwBMq-yfrFYW-fhGDo6Ze54Lgm6WOfDx8J4axdW7rpw1S0pLddqqyFW8Fx_CBe6R6u7HIYmWL6A5EMPcRGIKGYkLyG8V0SUTK1MABlNPJ2H7jjUzUbqE49a7ST6g/s320/RAM+2011+118.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618527526710060066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2P2glITiN-f0GlBQRJ6EQttHqOPkaR-VAPHzRwWpgCV7iEoH_a_-Ywtg3T2G-GWsimYl-R63Vti-uOWx8AxVjOJoZlIL7dysbgmISffsU5yxmPWzBlrz8FJSfRDBP3sFxaZrTTe5c4Xo/s320/RAM+2011+120.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618526675966613010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ajA7_17l8hnwAslEMeGoThyphenhyphenvV9DhZ8fNp_xNmZMsIVszNcSYf_bIsW-86wXMLZqZYppkRa_uwo9ZLHHvCS2oFbr-qjeJaPSz-VzV9gu9LG5ci-ZCHfobhGlpl2AVAYqBez5ZGHCYBhw/s320/RAM_2011_098.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618526685651072114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4FJdZWFWdljrWuWh4v5nEEnS5m5u7SNjLuVC-9lZFiLRqqZgOhII3roooX27uEKekvmdBwPLYI6aWj4BH0h8MlWrlYfxhINy7MGZE0CWQ03jJrPYnhcYT4hQ-X2N8XBx3PvuNDGyr7WM/s320/RAM_2011_124.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618526680128451986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyg1Kl_iqtzV6rCegGBD7wFcVDL0M83QX0NwkfIvcaB52LiCNpFT8AHY6hR94TsPyXvYIjO1TFj43rnLLS3-pIHuwxWMVDoTG-JKpiFICCHM7WZo9TBpbQn0GmEnNJEenRBGlTeGXkN70/s320/RAM_2011_099.JPG" border="0" /><br /><strong>Part II: 19E To Carver's Gap</strong><br /><em>It's easy- there's only one hill.</em><br /><br />With Leopold taken care of (thanks again, Hayley!) I was in a hurry to start back. I felt good and really thought I could make good time on the way back. Considering we took 4:25 to get to 19E, I actually started to believe I could maybe negative split this bitch.<br /><br />However, I couldn't find the the water bottle I'd given Hayley, so I just drank some extra water and headed back with only one 20 oz. bottle and one 12 oz. bottle of water. That had been enough to get me half way, but it had not been nearly as hot, and there were all those thousands of feet more of climbing to consider...Others must have encountered issues with water, because when I saw Stan (who was about a mile ahead of me at the turn around) he made sure to tell me to get enough water.<br /><br />The initial climb when you leave 19E and head back is....deceivingly difficult. It was becoming hotter and more humid, and I was out of water before I made it to Big Hump. That just totally sucked- there's no other way to put it.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618556788511069474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_JmrvCv9hsvjqaptSr1rThjeTaqNIewoTnZ_rbwBaaLfVU_-0b5taRf80rRXC8HPctoFm7ksLC54aCArBrpEYdVfuCMrtK3Blhr-Gt-ffpVMi1P9UgWGpy3IJB5cRig3K14gWfGG9dmA/s320/RAM+2011+105.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618556774901685458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4L079gKQ8d5Qv8NA9Nl-9OaK_AF8YSMWd3TPOPywrMmQ8X8UzLU18VNkuZh-8kBdrZ5aL-3zhQ34Xrom8NgpZuzfXhAmw_Ts-o4YQUUJ1zYp5CfHVA0y-faBYjd7uxjLKs-ep6Ni_N5k/s320/RAM+2011+095.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618556784705011250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh034F1QOqj-P4bF7wb5tIAWKXpz4HfGTBdN_bBNw9n1avLZrMYKyjX8CQGznbNTjqGLkJJ4TqLQi-GaxLmwevzFGPwvfFzNlRVNufGvppLNXOpMnryUOH164hJ_R_JsiWQyfIvtAtaQqQ/s320/RAM+2011+104.JPG" border="0" /><em></em>< I eventually found a small water source at Jane's Bald and drank from it even though I had no way to filter water. <em>Note to self- would it kill you to always carry iodine tablets in your pack? No, I don't think so.</em><br /><br /><em>2nd Note To Self: If not feeling well at Chattooga, it may not be just the heat and humidity!</em><br /><br />It seemed to me that even though I was suffering from dehydration to the point I had to sit down and recover at the beginning of every switch back, that I was much, much (much!) stronger this year compared to last year (when I lost my shit and had a mental breakdown).<br /><br />I ended up running 4:50 for the 2nd half, but still feeling very good about it.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618556774902851266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo57Awkw7fgxa-DOJ_OFuSDAa5Q_NYk02VHZ8bsRA2sY7lsxLJ0spbklks5GqoJIK_nXrdOivIg_wmq3FkvXqzhpCeZ6CclNFH0OPMzbGmSKdYjsIqc2rPwsqP8NqzHdKOZS_yVKDksaU/s320/DSC02905.JPG" border="0" /></<br /><br />This is an incredible (and incredibly tough) adventure run. It's not to be missed, and I may even train for it next year.<br /><br />ROCK ON!Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-81247659265477552992011-06-09T12:43:00.009-04:002011-06-09T22:21:04.581-04:00Black Mountain Monster 24-Hr Race<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKGM8jTTfWVV0qDF6hjGxZwe6QSxeFp8BAAtcTxCe0a6b_haBjzEIPItSUGcEmDM8J1HBuTjidR1Xpz3JKaOhywVzkoDndRlDVaNInJDOuMCQQegAyaBW4kpFi64MK8JBTW4zHVY42Qng/s1600/photo3.1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615927603247976610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKGM8jTTfWVV0qDF6hjGxZwe6QSxeFp8BAAtcTxCe0a6b_haBjzEIPItSUGcEmDM8J1HBuTjidR1Xpz3JKaOhywVzkoDndRlDVaNInJDOuMCQQegAyaBW4kpFi64MK8JBTW4zHVY42Qng/s320/photo3.1.JPG" border="0" /></a> The Black Mountain Monster 12/24 Hour Race for Awesomeness (love the name) has come and gone, leaving in its wake the... race report of awesomeness: A clever, insightful, thought-provoking, tear-producing, monolithic testament to my running labors this weekend. <em>You know, just how I want <strong>every</strong> post to be but I'm never able to invest enough time in writing so I just crank out my immediate thoughts and hope no one noticed the typo in paragraph three before I got a chance to fix it</em>. (Don't bother checking, I already fized it.) At this point, if a few people snicker, sniffle, and shoe-up (yes, I did reach for the third "S") I'll be happy.<br /><br />The Black Mountain Monster is a smaller event by design and feels more like a family get-together than a race. Montreat College is the perfect setting. It’s a beautiful campus with ample parking, bathroom and shower facilities, and a big field for everyone to set up their tents on. The premise of the race is simple: Run around in little 3-mile circles for either 12 or 24 hours. Participate individually, or as part of a team.<br /><br />The course is a 5K loop that accesses the college’s x-country course, the greenway, and the sports complex. This course offers more variation of scenery and landscape than my moods and is a perfect combination of single track, flat wide grassy trail, a couple fields, and a little asphalt. The pictures from the race’s website illustrate the course perfectly:<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615928644703687410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1lYGlHBuzjBEA-pcQihvTPouc260KxutyyGnxtUZj0DrHGN0DyCrsDSjGYb0fK-AOFFmx6KweEpF3M0Gj5LrkRAyg5JjRW53dn0TDZ7-r1jdxL15Ueupng35lOYs5fLkHod1S22w0GOY/s320/Course1.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615928654502698610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7F8UU53_Xqe9uj_QGOxJmZzWQt1SiAwNJan34YyhaePWRkOYvJ7K8u11CSLGT6YlaqIiKg1YxizAAp_Hu1TWM17e0b9w19ZlqSTFIQiv7gEzIHdNNs8wsiApkzP4TiWo6OPfnbyl96lI/s320/course2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615928673097120498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhearCJma4n1zx2mDVKByvS8Mlq-fuNe6RGlD74CgC6LvV6gvis1snxefXXrLT0YXb6bu512d-Xvn9Ghd-jr_UWs6ZGGAAKAiN5sFMDgfB4eUhEZOTgU-i8wPc9TZF91FyBTnbvo1t1huM/s320/course4.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615928683825485394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha9f9KRzDe_q2roAu-vw2G-hRN-MI6NP0dO8n459fi10siSJHXneXJ-ZecuOzTt2EKVcVf3gUHeMxfiFgQtopyeVK4aZ0xemAtbSp5Y4_aG0vS4fQEL9CvEdptsYLCAe1FOw3W6uMZsQc/s320/course5.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615929638395154722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXpqj35fcT_KXfRow0-RoQKu8totEtKcjUhMOCpp0dvBhacw3pxgcpErFTnqwdgagYReXKQz9e2xmMA2TPJOfYzWj2bYa1ufdu0pTR5Gz285ED77YJXPi5w35_YJ62ev4Fg0HdmV4_Tf8/s320/course6.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615930819957994402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjswXfefaLTZbknENEoPG5EIXUkUxnFveNVBRyjoSbMOnrb9HaRwgyYIkizC8GA9zFBnDuUa6Skfs4OdFbQsI7Her_nvBpGt0Xli6-P3ZucDz-iG0khM4csh5JE8o8Z24wgb__HFApw9mE/s320/course7.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615930044549350258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrBHJ_7DRrt3AoUx-h2se6aX8Z9jmnFTrhkTqOz-hNoMJDm85pvqpTIAd1HmNQe60ZxvebICX-CwxScMWOJBkT3qMyhXMy4ZeM9HDXxToTeSikkBQaSzeyzwPw4xpUX1MYGNr59u9FVkI/s320/course+8.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615930050290777266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNm7FJC1Jt_Dv9qWPl4CizrXYrgjUhidyYLfasmuoOItNAn5kN8xJW-qAtFLqB2_uXopkvHUo0b_2yq1R6V3VFffwudEl3FN__V39WgSGvO1oQLNrAyD4npf0OIcDZAZsHjwphq8-WUz4/s320/course9.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615930056603568258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDXRGCirLu8HyNtsI8RShC1zLdeDicOdH-2T52zoJtF-1H638X0Qvw58E9ngJd-siJYfnBloOzjc1_I7IihBcqWhS8uc9SdHyZqszoIPfH0PU_VMXrZM7zR0wLTRZs3cDSnV1vQGXbVxE/s320/course10.jpg" border="0" /><br />I was looking forward to this event as it <is>was a great opportunity to see some friends, share some trail time with Leopold, and show Charles around the area a bit. Yes, I suckered my son into pacing me with absolutely no training at all (unless you count Halo and Guitar Hero as training). He's skinny and fast (proving it skips a generation) and he ended up running a crazy amount of miles and enjoying the crap out of himself. However, hardly any of the miles were with me, and I soon realized I was creating an ultra monster that closely resembled some combination of <a href="http://run100miles.com/">Christian Griffith</a> and Sean Blanton. My only consolation was that he would end up crazy sore after.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615931711482723346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2qoOoTHUsZq25PHsN6QaGGuJUkkgDkLXo_8HU4c2uWnk0sJH8-N7C8Ug_9y1OfXks_GmIxt3adkGPa1p6AbzeCorqS3SrjH9DQ6vngt_P7m__l1yVc5mcYaGpNxdmsr7P5G9vY5DHcUE/s320/248941_1957291846163_1058736325_32250852_4702285_n.jpg" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615937612432772098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJI_RMQAeB7kGfAx7BTY4cp00dtBjOu8s04xR5-_KNYXLMseC6fQ7T0RKymgbWAya0imdKUN7GLItviBPNit7sIiWcfDK6PDV1xqLA61IvAmDOkinAKKOyuFy2vUx5-VM9BLi3SDCrLP8/s320/247835_128421153903787_100002077103453_231714_4978688_n.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615932272131800386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuFu0Ejb6BiFWuC7IoxORAqHbuko1l-3hwYHAj5zxyA2WisxnC4CPRieJQ8BHRml2tSMawYXfNpadJQnXhfpWwB7KVaW2mN9EEdck3tPjJoSvt_iICOZhmrYChBnUWzQ29qO5HcEI4CHQ/s320/249497_2138093893089_1268375776_32638215_5112296_n.jpg" border="0" /><br />Not having run this type of event before, <strike>I was confident in my ability to run at least 100 miles </strike>I really had no plan other than to keep moving. Luckily, I ran the first loop with <a href="http://bestpacescenario.blogspot.com/">Jason Rogers </a>who shared with me his thoughts about pacing. Thank god for that! It slowly dawned on me at that point <strike>I had no business being there</strike> that not having a plan may be a <em>bad</em> thing when it comes to running for 24 hours (unless you're <a href="http://ncultrarunner.blogspot.com/">Denise Davis</a>). So, I made a plan right there on the spot - I would shoot for running each 5K loop in 40-50 minutes. Simple! If I averaged 15 minute miles, I would end up with about 90 miles. After all, how hard could it be to average 15 minute miles for 24 hours?<br /><br /><em>Well, let me explain just how hard averaging 15 minute miles for 24 hours actually is...</em> It’s like Laz saying he’s shortening the Barkley course this year. Sure, you may run less distance, but it may be on a 70% grade. Through fire. Or a crack den. Or a crack den on fire. Before it’s over, you’ll be begging for the old course with that candy ass prison tunnel.<br /><br /><strong>Race, On!</strong><br />First, I have to say I always enjoy the start of ultra running events. You would have to not have a pulse for things to get any more laid back. The RD calls all the runners up for a quick pre-race briefing at 9:50. Then, "On your mark......get set.........GO! ". This is what hapopens:<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615934833632853650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv2vLUUTyejGC7t-nodBTJINCrkPd9MHxi5rxIJml1jFKZBONslT7b2vK9jE5u44dQCl5y1h9F-T5ZR2tOPEDradBDO3rxETYbxXmH8kqXKk8T9wzGRL2uYU04CcCotNOogo9GxBcRYcY/s320/251395_1618355433857_1685536043_1057410_5585688_n.jpg" border="0" /> People generally continue talking, while taking their sweet, sweet time walking over to the start. That's if they've even bothered to show up yet!<br /><br /><strong>Part I: The Wheels On The Bus Go Round and Round</strong><br />I ran 12 or 13 loops, or 40+ miles, during the first 12 hours. Except for some heat issues, the need to change shoes, and the need for a dinner break, these were fairly easy miles.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfQQfrFU2_VSCu_d1D-HUCTzZpnlbP11-EGl2y3ONcIdAdXQmh5-XOH0Rq0xvMuAWDz9S78a4Vk3hbEB-TlT8qs5AOZvfygieQ32HovwMOnPvnTVmgWgmKA7p5iRfCJywl1DebMtZmHiE/s1600/251167_1957289806112_1058736325_32250841_6019243_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615941880324625522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfQQfrFU2_VSCu_d1D-HUCTzZpnlbP11-EGl2y3ONcIdAdXQmh5-XOH0Rq0xvMuAWDz9S78a4Vk3hbEB-TlT8qs5AOZvfygieQ32HovwMOnPvnTVmgWgmKA7p5iRfCJywl1DebMtZmHiE/s320/251167_1957289806112_1058736325_32250841_6019243_n.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The first loop was all about viewing the course, and I was desperately hoping for two things: that the “big hill” from the x-country race was not part of the course, and that I liked the course. 24 hours is a long time and is exponentially longer when you hate the course.<br /><br />Immediately, my uncanny ability to detect the slightest uphill grade kicked in (for some unknown reason I am unable to detect down hill grades. Weird). There are 3 decent hills, one of which is indeed the “big hill”. There’s also a nasty, sharp downhill that I’m still cursing. This is NOT a flat course. (Later, I learned there is 300 ft. of elevation gain per loop. So, if unlike me, you ran 100 miles here that would be right at 10,000 feet of elevation gain). <br /><br />The course is also chock full ‘o sharp turns and cutbacks, making it difficult to get into a good groove through certain parts of the course. Also, parts of the course leave you exposed to open sun for several minutes at a time. It’ important to not that temperatures were near 90 degrees with high humidity.<br /><br />As I settled into a goal pace, I lost contact with Charles. One thing I learned about a timed race is that if you don’t stay together it can be a long time before you meet up again.. I know people are used to seeing Charles and I running together, so I bet they were wondering why they never saw us together in this race.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOcHjPahBK7pwHmf3HNcxaq3s-YnuFPZ14z0Ll89dvb26yY-9h-zXXKgoMhHxP3BjOGfp0Xldg4CALfa4S7kPK3TBY29kM99sVO6FC30PJ9oV-WFk3DWUdZNn_nkkddhMw4bn1KYHMRTQ/s1600/250694_1957285726010_1058736325_32250818_4372170_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615938187486381378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOcHjPahBK7pwHmf3HNcxaq3s-YnuFPZ14z0Ll89dvb26yY-9h-zXXKgoMhHxP3BjOGfp0Xldg4CALfa4S7kPK3TBY29kM99sVO6FC30PJ9oV-WFk3DWUdZNn_nkkddhMw4bn1KYHMRTQ/s320/250694_1957285726010_1058736325_32250818_4372170_n.jpg" border="0" /></a>Early highlight – Adam Hill sighting! Adam was pacing Andrew Moore and they lapped me more than once (please no one tell me what event Andrew was in- I prefer to think he was on a 12-hr. relay team!). The first time they blew by me, I was running with <a href="http://runningthecarolinas.blogspot.com/">Big Easy </a>and I was glad for the opportunity to point Adam out to him, so he’d know who I was talking about when I talked about the Pitchell or the some of Adam’s other runs. The second time around, I high-fived Adam and told him I’d heard the <a href="http://wnctrailrunner.wikispaces.com/Pitchell+100k">Pitchell</a> hills were not nearly as hard what we had to deal with today.<br />I saw Adam a couple of more times before he left to meet up with Matt Kirk. Adam said the Grand Kirk was doing well on his fastpack of the Mountains To Sea Trail, averaging about 38 miles a day. I spent some time ruminating on the concept of averaging 40 miles a day for 30 days<span style="color:#ff0000;">*</span>.<br /><br />In summary, I ran the first two loops in about 1:35, which was too fast. The heat of the day caught up to me by loops 3 and 4, and I slowed considerably. However, I think all of my loops in the first 12 hours were run in under an hour. I hit a low point around dusk, and stopping for pizza and beer made all the difference.<br /><br /><strong>Part II: The Wheels On The Bus Fall Off. Then They Suffer A Slow & Painful Death. </strong>I should know by now that nothing <em>truly</em> interesting happens until the second half of any ultra, and this event was no different in that respect.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrY7pmZ4wu7B_Y6IazIqBULETYJCrRHJ7uDfG3M4JLsoYNlzVhOmocU8uyFlK0BmYMp-BUwNM1E6mfPIaOOEtqjHp8AH8-xYDc65va8N7xOBP4AKm55R7YBDljQat6hLHwxdK9NRLLh-s/s1600/248558_128420827237153_100002077103453_231701_5806585_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616229876974097218" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 238px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrY7pmZ4wu7B_Y6IazIqBULETYJCrRHJ7uDfG3M4JLsoYNlzVhOmocU8uyFlK0BmYMp-BUwNM1E6mfPIaOOEtqjHp8AH8-xYDc65va8N7xOBP4AKm55R7YBDljQat6hLHwxdK9NRLLh-s/s320/248558_128420827237153_100002077103453_231701_5806585_n.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />For me, Part II of these shenanigans started at dinner. Charles and I (who had managed to finally meet up) took a dinner break around 8PM Saturday night. A small meal of left over pizza and home brew really hit the spot. We both hit the trail again feeling great, and I figured I’d found the new miracle cure for ultra pain- <em>beer</em>! Accordingly, I’d swing by our tent and have a little beer before heading out for the next loop. This worked marvelously and for a lot of hours. I was relaxed, I felt good, and I felt like I could keep going forever.<br /><br />Forever being the relative term that it is, I hit a real low point around 1:30 a.m. I wasn’t nauseas, I wasn’t really in pain, it was nothing I could put my finger on. I just did not feel good. Unfortunately, Charles also hit a low at the same time. We ended up back at the tent, and after a few minutes, Charles finally went inside the tent to lie down. At the time, I suspected he never fully recovered from the earlier heat, whereas I didn’t know what the Hell my problem was.<br /><br />This is where I made a big mistake. I was getting cold, so I went in and lay down under the covers with him. As I lay there, I kept telling myself, “This is so very, very bad. This is a death sentence. I’m going to end up going to sleep, and waking up hating myself.” After what felt like an eternity of struggling with this, I decided that at the very next moment I thought I could make myself get up, I would do just that. No thinking about it, just move.<br /><br />A few moments later, I rolled out of bed, heated up some chicken broth, and drank it from a thermos as I sat by the bon fire. Not 5 minutes later, who do I see walking towards me but the motley crew of Big Easy, Weezy, Mark Elson and Margaret. What luck!! I practically jumped up (<em>I’m sure it looked nothing whatsoever like a jump</em>) and joined them as they headed out for another loop.<br /><br />At this point, I was pretty sure I was starting loop 17, and I found out these guys were starting loop 19 and Margaret was on 20 or 21 (<em>animal!).</em> We all walked this loop, and it felt good to walk. By the next loop, we were running the downhill sections (running- Haha, that’s funny –wtf?). I think Margaret was hitting a low point, but she was quiet, and I couldn’t be sure. Mark and I talked for a bit and we were kinda feeling the same thing at this point- time to put the head phones on and literally tune out.<br /><br />I broke away from these guys at some point, and I felt very good for the next loop. I ran almost all of it, and at one point I was hoping I was going to pass Big Easy and Co. and make up a lap on their asses.<em> Because in my mind, I was flying around the course. </em>When in reality this is what I looked like to the casual observer:<br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616230140135031122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSrrIoio8719_E9ouWohZ1G1_yX8BGALBtMdF5gID-tPu-uATDXZAIgX16p8goVNitzuXRlTlKJgpQbYdh_UNkdxGlNSgmIDAazp3f1a4TtaW6Bzkos3jJiFQRDyd8VFwnto3msY8N-Rs/s320/6075333-single-brown-snail-walking-along-very-slowly.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Loop 19 was bad. It was 3:30 or 4:00 (?) in the morning and my feet hurt, I had blisters, my body wanted to stop, my mind wanted to stop, and I’m pretty sure my soul wanted to stop. I was reduced to the slow, weary, depressing yet determined walk of one who has nothing left except the impulse to simply soldier on.<br /><br />I came upon Brad Goodridge near the end of this loop, and we walked together. I think I asked him how it was going. I don’t remember his exact words, but he was done (those may have been his exact words, actually). I completely know that feeling- where you are just done. You’ve had it, you’re over it, and every cell of your body screams, “Done!” He was there. We walked in together, and I was praying the lap counters would tell me I had just completed lap number 20, whereby I would promptly stop, vow never to run a 24 hour race again, and go to sleep. I myself was “done” and definitely quitting after the 100K mark. At this point, I felt there just wasn’t any point in getting any more miles.<br /><br />I was not a happy camper when the (now evil) lap counters told me I had just completed lap #19. Damn!! I have to run at least one more 5K. I’m not even sure I stopped at the tent to see if Charles was there or not. I hardly remember anything at all about this loop. I’m just guessing here, but it was probably a death march of pain and my mind decided to check out for a while.<br /><br />Coming in to finish loop 20 (100K) should have been a great experience. I say <em>should’ve</em>, because I was completely robbed of said experience. The (now evil <em>and</em> cunning) lap counters were messing with me again. As was Charles. As I checked in, and before I could say, “So long suckas, I am adiosed”, the (now evil demon) lap counters innocently proclaim, “Your boyfriend just checked in with us. He told us to tell you he went back out and that you better catch up”. <em>I better catch up???</em> I better catch <strong>UP</strong>??? Muth#r Fuck#r!!! There is no way to explain the emotions that I felt in that moment, so I'll have Wiliam Tudyke do it for me:<br /><br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8f3D6LaH_oQ" frameborder="0" width="425" height="349"></iframe><br /><br />As I headed out for loop 21, I walked a bit with Jason Rogers. He was in a bad way. He had reached the point where road kill feels sorry for you. The point when the vultures and crows will "pass" on your carcass and wait for something a little less dead. He had lapsed into some really negative self talk, so I knew he was in the Pit. The Pit is when your head is so full of reasons to stop, so many excuses piling up that you can barely acknowledge them (let alone answer them), that it feels like quicksand pulling you into a pit. It's all the reasons you aren't good good enough, all of your self-doubts that you have unwillingly stored in your memory banks. It's self-imposed mental torture. And it seriously sucks ass.<br /><br />But then, a funny thing happens. You suddenly get tired of hearing all that bullshit and just push on through, to a serene and peaceful state, and your world is awash with possibilities. Then you realize the source of all of those excuses - it was you! Ha, ha!WTF! It was you all along!<br /><br />Jason is my hero, and it was wonderful to see him pushing himself to this limit. The gift on the other side of the Pit is worth every bit of the pain- because on the other side you understand that the ability to create a strong, positive outlook lies within. It's the experience of the Pit that builds confidence. I believe it's what's behind the smiles of all ultrarunners, and it's is one of the reasons why I keep coming back - as Scott Dunlap says, "Gotta give those flowers more sunshine!"<br /><br />Well, honestly, I am growing weary of writing this report! Let me just say this event was nothing short of inspirational and I was honored to be a part of this race. I spent time with my incredible son this weekend, spent time with some old friends and spent time making a few new ones.<br /><br />So there you have it. A day spent running in circles in Back Mountain and a day that did nothing but inspire me. Charles and I left with 65 miles (21 5K's) and 60 miles (19 5K's), respectively. I met some great people and watched some amazing athletes (including my hero Jason Rogers) cross that finish line victorious.<br /><br />I will leave you with a quote from Jason's <a href="http://bestpacescenario.blogspot.com/2011/06/black-mountain-monster-24-hour-run-6411.html">write up </a>of this event:<br /><br /><br /><blockquote><span style="color:#ffffff;">Darkness is all around when we are exhausted and we still have miles ahead, but morning eventually comes and sunlight will shine through the trees. Just keep moving and putting one foot in front of the other, because that is what awesomeness is all about.<br /></span></blockquote><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">*</span> <span style="font-size:85%;">Matt is fastpacking the 900-mile Mountains-to-Sea Trail during the month of June. Follow the trek here: <a href="http://runthemst.wikispaces.com/">runthemst.wikispaces.com</a><br /></span>Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-25286383239031254502011-05-19T09:25:00.013-04:002011-05-20T10:07:14.862-04:00Laurel Valley Training Run (feat. Cee Lo Green and Eminem)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYjDSASVGFww8vqT_BopD8la5sBLoAPn730KqiHAXyB3bF7-4HrYMeAF63jj-hkynozVz7LjzedW9vdApPNCP0lRn9Yytte5Jfl4aGx-4ztpJu8QX5o_3d4LbJmvlB8nnk9yiyUBUSIGc/s1600/224040_2089817886219_1268375776_32569588_3950172_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608427687577797458" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYjDSASVGFww8vqT_BopD8la5sBLoAPn730KqiHAXyB3bF7-4HrYMeAF63jj-hkynozVz7LjzedW9vdApPNCP0lRn9Yytte5Jfl4aGx-4ztpJu8QX5o_3d4LbJmvlB8nnk9yiyUBUSIGc/s320/224040_2089817886219_1268375776_32569588_3950172_n.jpg" border="0" /></a>The rescheduling of May's FHT attempt and our unfortunate inability to crew for Greta at MMT allowed Charles and I to join 7 other Foothillz Foolz on Saturday for a 35-mile self supported run through Laurel Valley. As <strike>smack-downs </strike>consolation prizes go, it was not bad.<br /><br />Humidity was clearly a factor in completing this run, but even so, 7 foolz finished in under 10 hours (<strong>read:</strong> "<em>I made that trail my bitch, yo!"). </em><br /><em></em><br />Charles and I ran the first half in 4 and a half hours before C-Raff succumbed to the humidity (<strong>read:</strong> <em>"That trail made me her bitch, yo!").</em><br /><br /><u>Cast of Characters</u>:<br />Dan (who the phuck is Harley?) the Man Hartley<br />Big Easy<br />L'il Weezy<br />Biz-Mark Elson<br />Doug Robinson<br />D-Ray<br />Nick<br />Charles (The Rapping Pirate)<br />Psyche<br /><br />Charles and I had the longest distances to travel so, to avoid a 3:00 a.m. wake up call, we both headed down to the Laurel Valley entrance parking lot on Friday night and set up camp. We really had no idea if actual camping is allowed in the area adjacent to the parking lot. But it's not like we're gonna call the BMF Ranger and ask. As we set up the tent, visions of an encounter with the BMF Ranger filled my head.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVqujuH7jlAtXBDhozE9BmlpQDZuy2gtnKFunAfBBJt4buRKFshykra5HWAMTMgj-BCcS0ujVZquiI4CK6QQBAxYjlhQt0vP_fXm7N-JemI5456eIB3l6jKpGv97t1vQ62VHxdpG9d4-s/s1600/4bb79c2f6a99e_82567n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608047488638582802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 230px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 110px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVqujuH7jlAtXBDhozE9BmlpQDZuy2gtnKFunAfBBJt4buRKFshykra5HWAMTMgj-BCcS0ujVZquiI4CK6QQBAxYjlhQt0vP_fXm7N-JemI5456eIB3l6jKpGv97t1vQ62VHxdpG9d4-s/s320/4bb79c2f6a99e_82567n.jpg" border="0" /></a>In one scenario, said BMF Ranger pulls up in his<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1NJ9eV4WiyQOH1F4t6nk7atVfTuPFm9VGRcJRGtCmRi5AZk5SAvfSee49iv-_-w7tZQ60BYsuK7BlHADe6QkanR2wPkE-d7QPdq2gv2_A-w-xfnRAxxzLxxaUqg_1ppwtgJ4QQAiuhik/s1600/50515_352004763281_5344049_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608048465236796210" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 158px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 141px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1NJ9eV4WiyQOH1F4t6nk7atVfTuPFm9VGRcJRGtCmRi5AZk5SAvfSee49iv-_-w7tZQ60BYsuK7BlHADe6QkanR2wPkE-d7QPdq2gv2_A-w-xfnRAxxzLxxaUqg_1ppwtgJ4QQAiuhik/s320/50515_352004763281_5344049_n.jpg" border="0" /></a> Ranger wagon, set to kick us off the trail, perhaps even fine us. But I head him of by pulling out my BMF wallet and saying, "Hey, Ranger! The National Park Service called. They said you lost your wallet." (<em>Barney Stinson wink, and...)</em> Ranger takes the wallet, the dead Presidents, and everyone is happy.<br />Fast forward to 7:00 a.m.<br /><br />The first squeal of tires is heard several minutes before 7:00 as Big Easy's car careens on to Laurel Valley Road on three wheels. Big Easy, Mark Elson, D-Ray (and Nick?) have arrived, and clearly<em>, they are ready to party</em>.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="left"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607699219419551362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqCi2hT1qJru-H-Qnppcf0f_Caa1uTp9NypSpx8lGyyix3RmAxEU03hzNn3wzLTQaO3msrkwU0pdpmcBDCuDWLeepjwqtgfVAJkzb2PvRcGlIMt3gAezNVEu6iAnMTrK79T-NHYeBnzXw/s320/230300_1586658401451_1685536043_1015205_6989383_n.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607699224090839874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKAvt07hJG8EOOa6ZYFW0bd0qQGJYZAha0tmToFiiCPl193M1NhuzPbmB06twPltkJ8Kjf0-Soo6YZqxFw8neM9GIHMzj5x6WP_Hl9WBKUpc8FZiwHF6V8qwfvMYw281HgALzagzYJp_k/s320/228775_1586659081468_1685536043_1015208_70190_n.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608051108586387842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXjVuxQRSKM9qr__TNSR65EhV0-BTxeNxqk2Vo36iangT4WsputYMLZqvWv6RK6LYvxruyeFN7IBCwbvijY9KvbClDX2JvYFmAikaB4oQaCMqMtBBkp3B80TJkFuMdUg5anf0dSZN0JfY/s320/227141_1586660401501_1685536043_1015213_7575563_n.jpg" border="0" /><br />It's always great to be reunited with old friends, and as the case with D-Ray and Nick, meet some new ones. After the initial gratuitous smack talk, everyone was anxious to get on the trail, but Charles and I weren't quite done breaking down camp. We told them to go on ahead as we needed <strike>people to clear the trails of spiders</strike> a little more time. So off <strike>the spider patrol</strike> everyone went, hitting the trail at 7:15. We were able to finish up quickly, and got on the trail at 7:30. </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607700496867079010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVh7wFn4ahVOKgyINOWy3UfrKQY-ERSjkcV_vyW-QwnrTsAWKmF_CD8uNvo_1uj4uguDeU8zRZUJvRkYeOYCkDnlOZYlcCNMVFG8wpXK8M8uK1XLP5RcN_5AXelKEd0m-JCw3Pnzm7_v8/s320/227305_2089819686264_1268375776_32569590_206343_n.jpg" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607700503863575778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikJ2X6G9s4-FawMIpM5p3B6vxmiYNFpIp74JU1f3BcvO-j7OFp2z6a_3jXvxAxFSSn4EiiEQ0mjnCnWNd8e54fO2OjRj0RfQHamWgZpVzYdtwNfA7YBNO3xg5plYPRY22hi1gHVdtcep8/s320/230440_2089821246303_1268375776_32569591_718542_n.jpg" border="0" /><strong></strong><br /><strong>And So It Begins</strong><br /><br />I've lost count of how many times I've run the Laurel Valley section of the Foothills Trail. But every every time I do, I hate starting out by climbing stairs! They are just awful and the first several miles is full of stairs and climbs. What's strange is that in running the entire Foothills Trail, I never remember this section as being particularly difficult. Oh yeah. <em><span style="color:#000000;">That's because you ascend to the highest point in the entire state of South Carolina within 4 miles when you start at Table Rock State Park.</span></em> By the time you get to Laurel Valley, you're 14 miles in and feeling stoked to have such easy running.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607849709954116690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXgIf3Hb_KJY0IMN2phpt1-YpnepNwSPj_ZIXBEAifuv6xbqUpHxgkAK8mLPUNAVxRnSXynGX-UbfM69xO52gpOPPwMa2Bw8TDz4OuqvpDwik52_8sYn1Rw-RcT7IfMd0NBoOh1mCsgZs/s320/Picture+011.jpg" border="0" /> <br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Easy Running</span></strong></div><br /><br /><p>The initial 2-3 miles were slow going indeed, but when the terrain flattened out a bit we started to run at a good pace. We were both feeling good, and I kept thinking that as fast as we were moving, we'd should catch the group, eventually. The trail was just flying by and and it was awesome to be feeling good and running easily- even though I was sweating more than I usually do. I was completely drenched within the first mile. Don't even ask about Charles.<br /><br />Through this 7-9 mile section, I decided to turn on some tunes, sit back (figuratively speaking, of course) and enjoy the ride.<br /><br /><strong>Musical Interlude</strong><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM1qY6c45bbjw7TA_cACXYi8hW9SwnIyIODfTJYBb73nhwtZmovpdSEqZ1Ng5xA8YVgA-KDYE19bXb0VdUk8m8paexOa0j0-c0o2xLD1rb5Uz5dlCrkqrQCH8sJVBb3WZazkC9amq0AuA/s1600/ceelo--large-msg-124242568088.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608145980627724306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 191px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM1qY6c45bbjw7TA_cACXYi8hW9SwnIyIODfTJYBb73nhwtZmovpdSEqZ1Ng5xA8YVgA-KDYE19bXb0VdUk8m8paexOa0j0-c0o2xLD1rb5Uz5dlCrkqrQCH8sJVBb3WZazkC9amq0AuA/s320/ceelo--large-msg-124242568088.jpg" border="0" /></a>Several miles later, I was so happy to be having a goo<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdqynqRXCwNp88HcE0I9vE65FgelXrhVY821ybI4ejq7WzuXsj97mBEyb8sno5t36AzGlJJZVC_6QVHGczoi7eycw0YtpIaVB8LVDix6h7LcEjXiO4pAxKE5K6X3yJEXEjdfnLHT3s5Co/s1600/ceelo--large-msg-124242568088.jpg"></a>d run I was practically beside myself. Then, my good-run feeling of giddiness rose to near fever pitch as Cee Lo Green's song, "F**k You!" came on.<br /><br />Can I just say?<em> <strong>I love me some Cee Lo Green</strong></em><strong>.</strong><br /><br />This man seriously knows that music comes from the heart and soul. He has a fantastic sense of humor and doesn't take himself seriously. I don't care who you are, these are great qualities.<br /><br />Plus, a big black rapper in a zebra suit is so wrong it's actually right, and for that reason alone he fits right in with this motely crew.<br /><br />I'm sure he'd be perfectly at home partnering up with the MFRP to write a song about Sam's zebra's (in which they would hopefully answer the eternal question once and for all: why don't humans ride zebras?)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhUBYDX7tExtCT24DAzuaLMoYaTd6o2WeyGi2HgqYp7R1mRRxn1dP0mGOtzxl51Om8KnGecWhXMyFjyYKwLUcYKcPzowdptMftd0X1xsugRy8WDftm9UMH1tWiCJevS5Ge9eeimCKX1uk/s1600/eminem_getty_151737t-250x379.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608442955194586674" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 211px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhUBYDX7tExtCT24DAzuaLMoYaTd6o2WeyGi2HgqYp7R1mRRxn1dP0mGOtzxl51Om8KnGecWhXMyFjyYKwLUcYKcPzowdptMftd0X1xsugRy8WDftm9UMH1tWiCJevS5Ge9eeimCKX1uk/s320/eminem_getty_151737t-250x379.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I swear, I was in free association <em>heaven...</em> Before the next mile was run, I had Charles and Cee Lo collaborating on Fitty K's Ultra Rap, featuring....wait...wait for it...<br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><strong>Eminem!</strong><br /></span><br />BAM! That just happened.<br /><br />I know.<br /><br /><em>They can thank me later.</em><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"><span style="color:#00cccc;"><strong>Ultra Rap</strong><br /><br />by fitty-k<br /><br />Word up dog, move along the trail<br />Keep rollin, smokin along<br />You ain’t about to fail<br />Gotja gels, hammer style<br />In a pouch then, I’m not slouchin<br />You gonna be runnin for ya life then<br />Not afraid of dyin<br />Just never stop tryin<br />It ain’t about the finish, not winnin<br />Busta rhyme and your head starts spinnin<br />A trail mile is a whale mile<br />More and more of them, that’s my style<br />Knick knack paddy whackin<br />Staying on the trail, ya’ll<br />Less you do some bushwhackin<br />Give it your best shot, give it your all<br />Livin the ultra life (not beer), word<br />It ain’t like nuthin you ever heard<br />We’re all together, disregard the weather<br />Postman goes in snow and sleet<br />But that sucka stays on the street<br />Not us though, we’re on a roll<br />Living life like we’re outta control<br />This trail running life is good for the soul<br /><br /><em>by Charles Raffensperger </em></span></span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"><span style="color:#00cccc;"><em></em><br /></span><br /></span><strong>Laurel Valley Giveth and She Taketh Away</strong><br /><br />Today's lesson sponsored by Laurel Valley: All good things must come to end. The humidity was finally having its way with Charles (and not in a good way). The good news is that he may have actually turned the corner in learning the lesson this trail is so desperately trying to teach him: With his sensitivity to heat and humidity, he simply cannot undertake beastly ultra runs unless the weather conditions are right.<br /><br />As we reached the half way point, C-Raff began to suffer more and more, and I was right there with him. We eventually slowed waaay down and switched gears. The rest of the day would be about enjoying the day and being happy to be out playing in the forest. Together. (Personally, I love how ultra running has the coolest built-in back up plan).<br /><br /><br /><strong>Yep. Still Directionally Challenged </strong><br /><strong><br /></strong>I find it extremely difficult to remember all the points on this trail, no matter how many times I run it. I find I'll remember the section as I'm running it, but there's always a point where I think a certain landmark is coming up, only to discover that I am <em>totally </em>wrong. Saturday, this played out in epic fashion:<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#660000;">Me:</span></strong> "Hey Charles. Right up here the trail is going to make a right turn and there'll be a sign for Bad Creek Parking lot, right?"<br /><strong><span style="color:#660000;">Charles:</span></strong> "...No."<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#660000;">Me:</span></strong> "Isn't the little foot bridge that goes along the rock wall that has water running down it coming up?"<br /><strong><span style="color:#660000;">Charles:</span></strong> "..No."<br /><br />The last 6-8 miles always seem to be the hardest for me to <strike>run</strike> remember, as I keep thinking <strike>the distance is over a hundred (possibly over a thousand) miles and may very well include a circumnavigation of the globe</strike> I'm going to come out to an area I will recognize, (but never do).<br />Eventually, though, I began to get it right. I'd name an upcoming landmark..and it would be correct! Yaaay!<br /><br />My take away-<span style="color:#000000;"> The more tired I become, the better my sense of direction gets</span>. </p><br /><p><br /><strong>The Laurel Valley Payoff of Excellence</strong></p><br /><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608436382137198946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQp-w59KBf42r4Qk5h49kJ_iqbCqkR9zTOf2iO9i4f7syWUroFu6-XfilSuKINlHqBYl-BpJCDOnMPIkBQU9Bi9dXr32zdNMyFf7JLQp-0WGC5Xyi_bbD8_biZfSxZOkDihR_CzKNFyvs/s320/230875_1586680281998_1685536043_1015304_4069591_n.jpg" border="0" /><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Upper Whitewater Falls</span></strong><br /></p><br /><p>After a day of following the white blazes through the thick forest canopy, taking in the incredible sights of the whitewater rivers, waterfalls, dramatic drop offs, swinging bridges, wildlife, and all around incredible scenery, you finally reach the finish.<br /><br />A ridiculous climb brings you to a cool, big-ass view of Whitewater Falls.<br /><strong><span style="color:#ffffff;">Hells, YEAH!</span></strong></p>Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-84539171918293260032011-05-09T09:46:00.079-04:002011-05-20T09:59:08.046-04:00Go Get Ya Some!<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Kbovu_WQzCiQ1t50UgBXqA6EG2s_Yc6V6W-G6OkKOWTN2-Asq4b8kzkDo8nf1x66aemtZIOAv4Aa4NU41VPDl6aPOG5FntQpNQPg7UQEsZCY2PQHR-7-uCi7CG7DUcRfytmwXVCfcHU/s1600/Razor.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605460648877607714" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Kbovu_WQzCiQ1t50UgBXqA6EG2s_Yc6V6W-G6OkKOWTN2-Asq4b8kzkDo8nf1x66aemtZIOAv4Aa4NU41VPDl6aPOG5FntQpNQPg7UQEsZCY2PQHR-7-uCi7CG7DUcRfytmwXVCfcHU/s320/Razor.jpg" border="0" /></a>Ever feel like you're stuck in a <strike>Drew Barrymore movie </strike>rut? Like your running is going nowhere, slowly? Like you're bored and tired and you've forgotten why you run? If you answered "yes" to any of the above, then <strike>you will love the movie Whip It</strike> you may need to do what I just did: <em>Go Get Ya Some!</em> And by "some" I am in no way referring to Sex, Money, Victory, or the ever lovin' MFRP<span style="color:#ff0000;"><span style="font-size:85%;">*<br /></span><br /></span>I'm referring to what I'm now calling the <em>Summer Of Mojo Encouragement</em> (SOME). As the name implies, I am going to spend this summer trying to <strike>duplicate whatever the hell Big Easy has done to be so god damn happy with <em>his</em> running</strike> building speed, strength, and god-like confidence in my running so that I can ultimately be my own hero and race like I mean it when it counts. And when might that be, you ask? Well, here's how I see 2011 and beyond in terms of key races:<br /><br /><ul><li>Foothills Trail 77-Mile (<em>Goal - finish #2</em>) - September '11</li><br /><br /><li>The Pitchell (Pisgah to Mitchell) (<em>Goal - Sub 23:50</em>) - October '11</li><br /><br /><li>Bartram 100's (<em>Goal - 100 mile finish</em>) - December '11</li><br /><br /><li>The Barkley Marathons (<em>Goal - Don't die</em>) April '12 </li></ul><br /><br />If you're a fan of Drew Barrymore's movie, "Whip It" (and let's face it, why wouldn't you be?) then you remember Razor<span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;">**</span>, the Hurl Scouts' coach who, with his jean-shorts and ability to create excellent plays, tries to get them to compete to the best of their abilities.<span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;">***</span> Like Razor, I understand it's all about playing smart and staying aggressive.<br /><br /><object style="WIDTH: 535px; HEIGHT: 390px"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jNWawlQjGyE?version=3"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jNWawlQjGyE?version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="450" height="300"></embed></object></p><br /><br /><br />In the Summer of Mojo Encouragement, I vow to: <br /><br /><ul><li>Refine my training by adding 1 day a week of pure speed work to my training. This will (progressively) include hill repeats, intervals, repeat quarters, and repeat miles. </li><br /><br /><li>Approach the puke threshhold many times. My toes will feel at home curled over the edge.</li><br /><br /><li>Schedule a 5K Tune-Up race in 3 months.</li><br /><br /><li>Schedule an 8K Key Race race in 4months (Maggie Valley Moonlight Run).</li><br /><br /><li>Continue to run all my other runs like the beastly ultra runner I am, including 5-10 hour runs on the weekends, gnarly mountain trail runs with the Pirate, bushwacking practice for Barkley...</li><br /><br /><br /><li>Never forget it's an "Experiemnt of One"- if it's not working, change it up.<br /></li></ul><br /><br /><br />You, too, can join me in (getting) SOME.. Let’s make 2011 the best year of running ever! By years' end, those that have taken on the challenge may find themselves honorary members of the Run Like You Got Some Ultra Project…<br /><br />[<em>Que great sequence which includes Psyche's training montage set to the .38 Special song, "Caught Up In You"</em>].<br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">*</span> <em><span style="font-size:78%;">Muther Fucking Running Pirate (a.k.a Charles Raffensperger)<br /></span><span style="color:#ff0000;">**</span> </em><em><span style="font-size:78%;">Brilliantly played by Andrew Wilson, the bearded older brother of Luke and Owen. From his team plays, team speeches and beard, to his cut off jean shorts and sweat band, Razor ROCKS and we need to see more of this Wilson brother in movies. Now.<br /></span><span style="color:#ff0000;">***</span> </em><span style="font-size:78%;"><em>File this under "why I love Razor"- coaches who stop at nothing to motivate their underdog team are a dime a dozen, but Razor takes it to a whole new level by actually coaching the enemy in order to shaft his own team.<br /></em></span></p><br /><br /><p><span style="font-size:78%;"><em></em></span></p><br /><br /><p><span style="font-size:78%;"><em></p><br /><br /></p></em></span>Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-83457757295366413132011-05-06T14:14:00.018-04:002011-05-11T11:59:31.986-04:00Enoree Passage 40 Mile Trail Race<div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAFQwnaTEYCQfL-9PsFIVTPUMaH8SEDPocwAljoN9rN49y9yyeGe6fyZevKZXeTrl7n51fZbHvvx1PZPpY5rKhLYxLLG8fx9KXSdofLIfhwLfnTl1V1IKkiAAtnjMhdX45l_y-47jUWwQ/s1600/223207_1964322144301_1130301777_2446249_5444312_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603634898776000066" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 224px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAFQwnaTEYCQfL-9PsFIVTPUMaH8SEDPocwAljoN9rN49y9yyeGe6fyZevKZXeTrl7n51fZbHvvx1PZPpY5rKhLYxLLG8fx9KXSdofLIfhwLfnTl1V1IKkiAAtnjMhdX45l_y-47jUWwQ/s320/223207_1964322144301_1130301777_2446249_5444312_n.jpg" border="0" /></a> <em>Wherein I celebrate my first anniversary of ultra running by going back to where it all began- a great little race called </em><a href="http://ultrasontrails.com/enoree.html"><em>Enoree Passage 40 Mile Trail Race</em></a><em>. As celebrations go, it was a blow out. As races go, not so much.<br /><br /></em><strong>Part I:<br />Let's Get This Party Started!</strong> Charles and I wanted to do something special in honor of the race where we first met last year <span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;">*</span>. In the past, we've tried to get his two youngest (Devin and Alex) to come camp with us at key races, but it's never quite worked out. This time, however, Devin was able to make it, and it so happened that both of his older daughters (Paige and Lindsay) could also be there, along with Lindsay's husband Fletcher and their twin boys, Spencer and Logan. (<em>Now, it's a party</em>!)<br />So on Friday, Leopold and I drove down to the Brick House Camp Ground in Whitmire, SC in order to secure 2 side-by-side campsites. All week, I'd been dealing with flat tire issues, so it should not have surprised me when, as soon as we pulled in and were paying for the sites, Leopold comes up to me and says, "Mom, you better come hear this." I followed him over to my rear tire, only to hear the not-so-faint whisper of air whooshing out of my tire. <em>"How have I offended ye, oh gods of Good Year?"</em> I wondered.<br /><br />I figured I'd call AAA the next day. There was (literally) nothing else to do, so Leopold and I set up camp, settled in, went for a little run, and goofed around until even the fascinating campfire fire no longer held our interest. </div><br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603390789929967522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqtK1feibhgwpqexRjcfF5qBxh9IxUU-j_k7RkwOytGRqSkp2aOmTLsvNjga7kf9W4kvzr-6JkKctawULaTLFGtbiimSZAIL3IqgKH590tcHMy5U6cIAquW51bUembJXJksGUZiUdjWhg/s320/Picture+009.jpg" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603391434547755266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi48iJuj3Wr47D71q-BQnK1yL1iMSjg2w5WFhF7STphsuOaIWqCP9yBYkEFV3i2Ekt0f3JP4S1jmGDTiSjrkvc7f7i-1ui6cLBbLWh1K3XzPZjH0jr10q1J9SD0DVe9bHAZsUHxcnuuBiI/s320/Picture+007.jpg" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603391862813200146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMWEJNWrLqdM_GqfTJfSz0dhgB4gfVYEoCiDv4OA2plqiF8ehrJZlLrn2bUdgHCHERWmuIkB02FKsGXK1IvHLDCMVbz7L7O2TNjoZyMCvYGh_m-e0JP1r7NYtbh79tcHM7Zm6il76bvE4/s320/Picture+011.jpg" border="0" /><br />After a good night's sleep, Saturday greeted us with sunny, warm weather. I noticed it was about 5-10 degrees hotter than the day before. It felt great if you were in the shade, but I began sweating immediately in the open sun. [For those of you who need me to point this out- this is what's known as <em>foreshadowing</em>].<br /><br />We eventually caught up with Terri Hayes and chatted about the course and how the race was coming together. I always look forward to seeing Terri -seeing Terri Hayes is how ultra runners know it's summer [<em>again with the foreshadowing</em>!]. Eventually, a few other people trickled in, including Denise Martin, volunteer extraordinnaire.<br /><br />Jason Steinberg and Wendy Oates arrived while I was waiting for the AAA guy to arrive. They came down for a little run and to check out the course, but were not camping. The AAA guy got totally lost and Jason helped by giving him the GPS coordinates. Then the two of them were off, down the trail...<br /><br />A bit later...Team Raffensperger/ Worley finally arrive! Yay!! Lindsay's twin sons Spencer and Logan are adorable and clearly they found Leopold irrisistable. It was a crack up to watch them interact with each other. Part puppy love, part Monte Python's Flying Circus.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603412564909419090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg_idzMqp-S_MhznIQH4LrwcdtGYyuudYIqpLExPw1APoY6lVajSD8EVcj-tIMRjlwB9ShqKXql1fKMWSGcZLSxK5EFjh6kfqDUE45h7wH5KFCtILVg9UVPFBzlRR943rCJPDxQAF9tH8/s320/Picture+017.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603414125680994354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_-Q7EgPN2lXa_zfVXcXQmBJY8aOXkNefdP1Fjm9VUfsp2sbog2HoMyJlg2pHxCOXn9Pra-c9TKJgEzSqKW2SqwYacojGkFPVpg6VoR1jR_i8WB_2zvMDA0VpdeqpsHKYIHUIjl-cgYQg/s320/Picture+018.jpg" border="0" /><br />It was just a joy to hang out and play ball with the boys and Devin (who is an amazing natural athlete). We were all just relaxed and happy to be outside. Every once in a while we'd see a fellow runner and catch up with them. It was nice to see <a href="http://www.sofarfromnormal.com/">Jimbo</a> again (who I shared some trail time with last year as well) and to meet his friend Connie. Later, Fletcher cooked us all some amazing burgers and we all enjoyed another camp fire.<em> It was one of the best camping experiences I've ever had.</em> Had this trip ended there, I would have been perfectly happy<span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;">**</span>.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603637855908446418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8oALrVFpdzdNeoLRWTUT3JDjC0-PCOZsTfRqID_tfdbn1nhBoArsPrkLVkkucGgbzlLeu6TetE7xYL9hEaMf2MByoXmj-8n7aPsdF0CYKmB69zMpJkfhmWNyqJE4XXA4PrKjMha5YDhI/s320/230564_2054880132797_1268375776_32528358_7277353_n.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603636407600197362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirCLT5w3jOecSe5vrz_V2JEMEbKkURuaoBHa8wmBJ5PbKQhCtP7iWim-2wxxopx0uQG6hCIPdYhDGGUxFbLuKS6WHhfN5JRAQFmgs3G35Lvdqvsg4Z_fj6UFaqzGor4LTARYJGucAK8DU/s320/224379_2054882212849_1268375776_32528365_446392_n.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603637858852810786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-fRxJVX9n5XhUUdOHpawNwRI4y3LCCJq7Lz9j8S39eCQwH1qOppd0B1BxgqbtLUkq6_T1yLJHA87Bxy3JFezXCZgh3iJ1e7DkjcUEF1PozpiskjUAjMG6z5eCXBZhr9wgarvX8LzB20/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603637863805208962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMenFIDY9zyh9pIBz1RLaXZrF9DpLesV8AtOhzOIVWdPK4bUWoG2m04U2patXYaFx7n5gIgLkzQ1m8AARUkiMM_JCV-sAZudHB1TCc8zPWqghSED3FBplHpc6lChuAKzPXeeQ_g9JAWDU/s320/untitled2.bmp" border="0" /><br /><strong>Part II: Pre-Race</strong><br />We didn't have to get up too awfully early, as the race start was at 7:30 and we were literally just yards away from the starting line. As we got coffee, and readied ourselves, I grew excited as cars pulled in and I recognized old friends- Dan Hartley and fam, <a href="http://runningthecarolinas.blogspot.com/">Jason Sullivan</a>, Weezy, Mark Elson, <a href="http://startslowthentaper.blogspot.com/">Brian Guzik </a>(The Guz), and a surprise visit by Scott and Greta.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603637858632514450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigIAAJBfWMHqj-x0-rIuGcxrqroNVxNfvVq0tWkHx3L2BVG-XqPkJqSKvzJ-e18Fw_q9AnisNleGrhpEVcdif4ho4xBtKeC4mR73LMu6nQFQaWUy_mNsFxZDaaZONfj2P24V9NV0kbayI/s320/225744_2054891093071_1268375776_32528387_8088445_n.jpg" border="0" /> <strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Unannounced visit by Scott and Greta- sweet!</span></strong> </p><br /><p>One of the best thing about these events is seeing all the people you've come to know over time. The sense of community among ultra runners is simply amazing. Absent is the sense of nervousness and foreboding that you fnd at most marathons- people here know the value of the run does not lie in your finishing time, but in your experience. In that sense, <em>it's all good</em>.<br /><br /><strong>Part III: The Race<br /></strong>Enoree is a 20-mile out and back course. There's some moderate climbing, some moderately technical trails, but mainly it's flat and mainly runnable. It has a lot of unique features, and a cool lake at the turnaround point, too.</p><br /><p>So, 7:30 approaches, and before I know it, we're all heading down the trail. I found myself running with Big Easy and the Library Lady for a few miles, but keeping Charles in sight. We had a few good laughs, and I was enjoying just being there as the memories of last year flooded back.<br />I had several nice moments where I remembered good times from the previous year- laughing with Sam and Big Easy about phantom race pains, talking with Jimbo about Magnum Track Club, running with Rebecca and Doug for the final miles. Good stuff.</p><br /><p>After the initial few miles, I saw Scott and Greta- I didn't realize they were even out on the trail before this, but it was good to see them. That is, until Greta took a fall on the rocks. This is <em>so</em> what she did not need, with Massanutten 100 coming up. I stayed with her for a few minutes, watching as her knee swelled, and gave her some ibuprofen. They both told me to go on, so I did.</p><br /><p>Just for a moment, I had a bad feeling. No people ahead of me...and no one behind me. <em>Oh, dear god..please let me be able to stay on trail!!</em> Getting lost is not the experience I want to have here today. </p><br /><p>Luckily, I met up with Charles just a few minutes later. He was waiting patiently for my slow ass. Before I came up to him, though, I passed William and Kristin, another "ultra couple" who were running their longest distance to date. We all ended up running many miles together. They are a hoot.</p><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOB6OE8Qv9-PJR_7kv1olOEweXYmGR5sKTo-xFvrSCv-QBN67xhksNEOV_gFPfmPIpzd3AmmrSB95ByAvs5VDwmwn3xPNeJZ8wkdmriQJ4OjMm-kc5DYZPIpFrENMEsi3kCAkR57OcoRQ/s1600/enoreewtf.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603671806544830402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOB6OE8Qv9-PJR_7kv1olOEweXYmGR5sKTo-xFvrSCv-QBN67xhksNEOV_gFPfmPIpzd3AmmrSB95ByAvs5VDwmwn3xPNeJZ8wkdmriQJ4OjMm-kc5DYZPIpFrENMEsi3kCAkR57OcoRQ/s320/enoreewtf.jpg" border="0" /></a>About 10 miles in, I knew I was in for a bad day. My legs were hurting, I felt overly fatigued, and I was going through 40 ounces of water between aid stations and still felt thirsty. Turns out, this would be my theme song until mile 25, where it finally became intolerable and (wisely) we called it a day.<br /><br />From what I gather, many others experienced this same phenomenon, including my friend Jimbo (who's awesome rendering of his predicament is seen here). </p>It took me a while to see that dehydration was the problem, but once I did, I was fine with calling it a day. But I will say that now that I've experienced this phenomenon twice in a row, I'm not exactly jumping at the opportunity for another hot weather race. In fact, Big Easy and I both concluded that the May 21 Foothills Trail attempt should be postponed until September.<br /><br /><br /><p>In conclusion, the best thing about this race this year(unfortunately) was EVERYTHING but the race! And I'm perfectly happy with that. I can always redeem myself next year, but I could never replace all the valuable friendships I've gained through this sport. I don’t have to mention names, but you all know who you are. I would come out and support each and every one of you even if I could not run at all. I am extremely inspired by you guys. Every single one of you are doing something magnificent. As am I. How cool is that?<br /><br />So, to all of you I say “THANK YOU” so much. If I could give each and every one of you a hug I would. I would say “lets hug it out, bitches.”<br /><br /><br /><object style="WIDTH: 450px; HEIGHT: 300px"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0ZvarRe-XVQ?version=3"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><br /><br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0ZvarRe-XVQ?version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="450" height="300"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">* </span></strong></span><em><span style="font-size:78%;">Technically, I did not "meet" Charles at this race. We were formally introduced at the Outkasts Run. But we shared a great trail moment at Enoree last year. As we were running through the forest, I told Charles (then a total stranger) that I thought it seemed like there should be houses "on the left". Apparently, I told that to the ONE other person in the universe who was experiencing the same thing at the same time. </span></em></p><br /><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">**</span></span> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><em>Yep. More foreshadowing.</em></span><br /></p></span>Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-55659412901036690232011-04-20T08:44:00.009-04:002011-04-20T13:33:03.513-04:00SweetH20 50K Trail Race<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4evJnNlY50pr_uQbY27EAnx5VKRmL0xpFA5yWqGaaiLnhmgHjrTgycTJelCpO_9x9PW1rWlDKXxNC7Q1NAtrQUp9yRC1pUsJxe0TsJNsdss1NLmrFtNDjrsrwfC8XF3_ydvY4J060iUs/s1600/215957_1664476492954_1268498605_31338835_5569985_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597371939170431442" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4evJnNlY50pr_uQbY27EAnx5VKRmL0xpFA5yWqGaaiLnhmgHjrTgycTJelCpO_9x9PW1rWlDKXxNC7Q1NAtrQUp9yRC1pUsJxe0TsJNsdss1NLmrFtNDjrsrwfC8XF3_ydvY4J060iUs/s320/215957_1664476492954_1268498605_31338835_5569985_n.jpg" border="0" /></a> <em>Wherein I get slapped around a bit by a trail with a sweet name and a bad reputation and I live to tell the tale.</em><br /><br />SweetH20 50K starts a series of races (including Enoree Passage 40-Mile and the Foothills Trail Ultra 77-Mile) that are very special to me on a number of fronts.<br /><br />This time last year, I sat here reading <a href="http://georgiasnail.blogspot.com/2010/04/sweeth20-50k-race-report.html">Georgia Snail's 2010 SweetH20 50K race report</a>. This is back when we were just "blogger friends". I had been following his blog and knew of his plan to run this event as his first ultra. His race report, full of horrible recountings of pain and suffering beyond anything he had ever experienced, had me at hello. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBOaSKxvag0LbHmvNza-CDMeYPzf36_Ung6V8uDNJT50qKqwq977wBYusF_STPOnyuTje3eSkSB_Kzp37dIjCUWyelOgQgvCK-VkUwNW-pXeAIlnfsp5sp8pFp7VRKPgjBc48FfAYvGhs/s1600/start-courtesy+ronnie+hines.jpg"></a><br /><br />Shortly thereafter, I found a 40-Mile race and e-mailed a guy named <a href="http://runningthecarolinas.blogspot.com/">Jason Sullivan </a>to ask him if he thought it was a good "first ultra" race... the rest is history.<br /><br />A year later, I sit here writing my own SweetH20 race report, and I'm finding it ironic that Thomas' race report from last year and my race report from this year are pretty much interchangeable. In fact, I don't really feel like recounting Saturday's misery. Can't you just go read his report and insert "Psyche" every time you read "I"?<br /><br />Pause.<br /><br />You guys are so lazy. ...<em>Fine. </em>Make me do all the work, then.<br /><br /><span style="color:#cccccc;"><strong>SweetH20 50K Race Report </strong><br />Like everyone else, I've grown tired of winter and find the recent warm temperatures bring with them a bit of spring fever. Being out on the trails in the sunshine and among the wildflowers is apparently enough to set off a virtual <em>epidemic</em> of race fever, as the week before SweetH20 generated enough trash talk to get every runner within a 100-mile radius seriously stoked to run. Get Christian involved and make that 300 miles.<br /><br />With all the smack talk, people were laying down goal times right and left. I signed up with a 7:30 goal based on the pace I ran for MMM, assuming the courses were somewhat comparable. This meant keeping it slightly under 14-minute miles.<br /><br />So after months and months of hardly any preparation at all, race day finally approached. This would be Charles' 3rd trip to the 'Creek, and my first. Our no-plan-plan was to stay together for one loop and then see what happens.<br /><br />The morning of the race worked out perfectly. It was about a 45 minute drive to Sweetwater State Park, and we had plenty of time to catch up with old friends. We ran in to Thomas first, and boy, did he look good! If you haven't noticed, the Snail has been dropping some serious el bees lately, and he looked like a lean, mean racing machine on Saturday.<br /><br />There were about 200 runners casually standing around at the start of the race waiting for the 7:30 a.m. start. As I looked around, I was amazed that I knew so many people. We spent a few minutes catching up with Big Easy, Diesel, Weezy, and a few people with regular names, too. Brad Goodridge and Charles got to compare some serious scarrage, which is always a boost for a Pirate. Ronnie Hines came around taking pictures, which made me realize I had forgotten to bring my camera.<br /></span><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBOaSKxvag0LbHmvNza-CDMeYPzf36_Ung6V8uDNJT50qKqwq977wBYusF_STPOnyuTje3eSkSB_Kzp37dIjCUWyelOgQgvCK-VkUwNW-pXeAIlnfsp5sp8pFp7VRKPgjBc48FfAYvGhs/s1600/start-courtesy+ronnie+hines.jpg"><span style="color:#cccccc;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597028545530005106" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBOaSKxvag0LbHmvNza-CDMeYPzf36_Ung6V8uDNJT50qKqwq977wBYusF_STPOnyuTje3eSkSB_Kzp37dIjCUWyelOgQgvCK-VkUwNW-pXeAIlnfsp5sp8pFp7VRKPgjBc48FfAYvGhs/s320/start-courtesy+ronnie+hines.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></p><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;"><strong>Charles, Me, Dan Burstein</strong></span></p><span style="color:#cccccc;">A few words later from the RD, and we found out that the creek crossing that the race is famous for was being removed due to the heavy storms from the night before. I didn't hear what course change that required, but before I knew it we were off and running down the road, out of the state park, going around the lake.<br /><br />People were flying down the road!! I think Charles went through Mile 1 in 8:45 and I was not far behind at 9:10- a far cry from the 13:55 pace I should have started at. I remember thinking, "What am I doing? I should not be running the first of 32 miles at a pace that actually has me breathing hard." I also remember wondering in what universe is 14-minute mile pace "race pace"? You would think ultras would draw hordes of people purely because they would believe they could run faster than that over long distances. Some would actually be right.<br /><br />The course layout was simple, a 15 mile loop that we traveled twice. I took Christian's advice to heart. He said, "Get through the first trip to TOTW and powerlines happy, and all should be well. Feel dead, and the day will be long 'cuz you'll still have the following brutality left:<br /><br />Jacks Hill<br />Water Crossing (takes good balance, not fatigued legs)<br />Yellow climb<br />TOTW (again)<br />Powerlines (again)<br />Jack's Hill (again)<br />and that pleasant little concrete crawl up to the finish.<br /></span><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNhibFOcGrcZUCmUhogW_NBsklKNecRh3_POLiy1-yUc7nmSTQb4CMx13-w0-cAoLGYYzyvxZp0kVFSviWxqW2J0fKVJhTnPpqBozH8dCv7_5mF7cvITAImPoeYSuOaNnuKin1xRS-Ja8/s1600/courtesy+perry1.jpg"><span style="color:#cccccc;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597028301349020610" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNhibFOcGrcZUCmUhogW_NBsklKNecRh3_POLiy1-yUc7nmSTQb4CMx13-w0-cAoLGYYzyvxZp0kVFSviWxqW2J0fKVJhTnPpqBozH8dCv7_5mF7cvITAImPoeYSuOaNnuKin1xRS-Ja8/s320/courtesy+perry1.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></p><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;"><strong>We hit the first real interesting part of the coursejust a few miles in</strong></span></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#cccccc;"></span></strong></span></div><span style="color:#cccccc;">After some very technical single track, the first "water" crossing came up quickly. There's a concrete spillway about 50 yards across, with a couple of ten foot ropes that we used to sort of rappel down the wall, run through the six inch deep water and pull ourselves up the same set up on the other side. Pretty cool.<br /></span><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcCx-I3e4oZ7g-2zBn0dWtiIILqbILZg6dHe8QNPGxYY4_Q8h1ft9nuKcUIQR3M5bj99vBVGjtJu2VvmXJME4p1L_2dR21B1xdRRmb0TJnvZq6Z84Qvma8oI0WNC9HO7Js2iVINJCj2UI/s1600/courtesy+naresh4.jpg"><span style="color:#cccccc;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597028285383933634" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcCx-I3e4oZ7g-2zBn0dWtiIILqbILZg6dHe8QNPGxYY4_Q8h1ft9nuKcUIQR3M5bj99vBVGjtJu2VvmXJME4p1L_2dR21B1xdRRmb0TJnvZq6Z84Qvma8oI0WNC9HO7Js2iVINJCj2UI/s320/courtesy+naresh4.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></p><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJjpSzxVbJEf7UiwhnEAnvDCP89jODYmFHPLF38FR0d0CgPWtUDGcTGwfPH0Jf8IIKurUddi5eOA4D_83rutwIJmD_A2axnO2kREWS2Vo1gVXhiDFcdATmh1WBMm024Ed22Rh1hcb-WI/s1600/courtesy+naresh5-spillway+xing.jpg"><span style="color:#cccccc;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597028294238096882" style="WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJjpSzxVbJEf7UiwhnEAnvDCP89jODYmFHPLF38FR0d0CgPWtUDGcTGwfPH0Jf8IIKurUddi5eOA4D_83rutwIJmD_A2axnO2kREWS2Vo1gVXhiDFcdATmh1WBMm024Ed22Rh1hcb-WI/s320/courtesy+naresh5-spillway+xing.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></p><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;"><strong>Big Easy is making it look, well, easy</strong></span></div><br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">Continuing on, we were now running along the banks of Sweetwater Creek. I hit a root and took a pretty decent fall. As I was getting up, I saw Naresh! He seemed to appear out of nowhere, which is a scene that would repeat itself throughout the day. Naresh is a very sneaky runner.<br /><br />We soon began the gradual ascent up the bluff, single-track switchbacks. Charles, Naresh and I were running together, the mood was light, we were joking and enjoying the camaraderie.<br /></span><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPF6tnr6oOjKhPnKDSuhwtFqFzSuse8fRhFN3IydtyvSUyTKRgN7TTuFB06bleS-wAWQj6b-d6m2S0CQIwllnnPZKXsY7vJHkPIdcE6JUjQZcmhT_rPRcmg0DVjyxnfDGgAW84-r-96LI/s1600/208423_10150215645153708_639188707_8562650_2228136_n.jpg"><span style="color:#cccccc;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597027658398304178" style="WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPF6tnr6oOjKhPnKDSuhwtFqFzSuse8fRhFN3IydtyvSUyTKRgN7TTuFB06bleS-wAWQj6b-d6m2S0CQIwllnnPZKXsY7vJHkPIdcE6JUjQZcmhT_rPRcmg0DVjyxnfDGgAW84-r-96LI/s320/208423_10150215645153708_639188707_8562650_2228136_n.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></p><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPNKkQLfml-iyQDux-wNKfDeeaoQPaAwD-BG6MjykLY3yKJONa-5jzJSClInNq9r3Fk9JcSw79UoL7098ZbSoc76a974zGD6EmOQWJC6pRP6dEViNoOzSBzmA_WVO82BUoA92QnrgRMws/s1600/217292_10150215645208708_639188707_8562653_2026653_n.jpg"><span style="color:#cccccc;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597028285538424770" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPNKkQLfml-iyQDux-wNKfDeeaoQPaAwD-BG6MjykLY3yKJONa-5jzJSClInNq9r3Fk9JcSw79UoL7098ZbSoc76a974zGD6EmOQWJC6pRP6dEViNoOzSBzmA_WVO82BUoA92QnrgRMws/s320/217292_10150215645208708_639188707_8562653_2026653_n.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></p><br /><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#cccccc;">Ooh, look at me! I love hills!!!<br /></span></p></span></strong><br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">Around mile 5, we began to leave the creek behind and worked our way to the power lines and the entrance to the "Top of The World". There were at least five major climbs in this section, each becoming more difficult. We ascended a couple hundred feet in each 1/4 mile and then we were on Top of the World where pictures cannot due justice the 360 panoramic view. It is spectacular.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3PwX7SfA0-hpf-h0r4eq1YJ8dpyJAk7A78yXTiWRZZI8gYqAZ7a7EqBbJorxhVHEZ9IdkfsGtPZd0DMuoFW0Q-0EoZ7Cpv7D_0HydNL_SinTXSEdyF3wQUy5S-N79hAPV3iCoIGuievg/s1600/215659_10150215646143708_639188707_8562677_1219211_n.jpg"><span style="color:#cccccc;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597027663601372450" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3PwX7SfA0-hpf-h0r4eq1YJ8dpyJAk7A78yXTiWRZZI8gYqAZ7a7EqBbJorxhVHEZ9IdkfsGtPZd0DMuoFW0Q-0EoZ7Cpv7D_0HydNL_SinTXSEdyF3wQUy5S-N79hAPV3iCoIGuievg/s320/215659_10150215646143708_639188707_8562677_1219211_n.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></p><span style="color:#cccccc;">The descents were tough, my quads were burning and my toes were throbbing from being jammed into the front of the toebox of my shoes.<br /><br />Miles 14-16 (?) found us rolling through the flattest portion of the course, and then suddenly I was staring down (up) a trail that would almost bring me to my knees. In 3/4 of a mile we climbed 400 ft, only to descend 400 feet in the same breath. While walking up this hill, I thought my heart was going to explode. I had to stop to catch my breath several times, and Charles ran ahead, seeming to climb effortlessly. Damn him! Each single step was a chore, and I prayed I would not see this hill again.<br /></span><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKGbkP9Vmo4UeoKGapCystohGb5z5nJXda_OqgnBBZM5JmW2uV0O7QgWHxwpq1rNVYWAlUECLfk3fuWbQJtbtubBOFr-TOx3fM_4rI-zTXenieKDOeJY42K-zkKOL-kXxox2WKhEMJThs/s1600/208375_10150215645908708_639188707_8562671_6252024_n.jpg"><span style="color:#cccccc;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597027657289964210" style="WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKGbkP9Vmo4UeoKGapCystohGb5z5nJXda_OqgnBBZM5JmW2uV0O7QgWHxwpq1rNVYWAlUECLfk3fuWbQJtbtubBOFr-TOx3fM_4rI-zTXenieKDOeJY42K-zkKOL-kXxox2WKhEMJThs/s320/208375_10150215645908708_639188707_8562671_6252024_n.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></p><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;">I hate this hill</span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;"></span></strong></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#cccccc;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#cccccc;">We traveled along the creek bed for the next few miles and worked our way back to the entrance to Top of the World and the power line hills. The pain I felt at the climb back in mile 18 was nothing compared to the battle of wills I encountered between miles 25 - 27. Endless hills, each step bringing about greater pain. I "quit" each of my upcoming races 5 or 6 times during this stretch. I decided trail running was not for me. I tried desparately to just keep moving forward, but I could see the remaining hills at the top of each climb, taunting me. There were runners on those hills, and I could not imagine how they were doing it. </span><br /></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#cccccc;">That second pass through the power lines seriously sucked. To compound thing, Charles was feeling good (ha! feeling good! <em>Are you effing kidding me??)</em> and said he was going to push it.<br /><br />Arriving at the Top of the World, my mind was mush and I could only focus on the idea of getting off of that mountain. Pulling into the aid station I ate some oranges and just felt completely out of it.<br /><br />The return trip down was a chore, and I spent a large portion of the time dissected my training and decided I was completely under trained for this event. In hindsight, I was strong through the first 21-22 miles, then the wheels fell off. I was revamping my training plan to include massive amounts of climbing, as there is no way in Hell I am suffering this bad at the Pitchell.<br /><br />The last few miles were difficult, I walked most of them, running for short spurts on the downhills. I mentally checked out when I knew the finish would be ahead, and hopefully somewhere close. The road went on and on. When. will. this. end? Where is the finish? </span><br /></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#cccccc;">Then I heard some cheers for someone behind me, and I glanced back to see it was a girl. There was no way in hell I was givingup one more spot with the finish line in sight. I started running and praying I was going to see the damn finish line- soon. Suddenly, someone is telling me to turn and go up the stairs, which just seemed surreal. Really...? I have to freaking climb stairs to get to the finish line? <em>What is wrong with you people??</em></span><br /></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#cccccc;">Finally I hit the stairs and everyone started cheering! I saw Charles as I crossed the finish line in 8:21:33, a full 23 minutes after him and Naresh (super duper congrats to them both for breaking 8hrs.)</span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#cccccc;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#cccccc;">Then Naresh was suddenly there taking my picture. </span></div><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpuy4yACQtQZIHvqTFGsgLOr8ST06NkH4mFjGoeBQScEPSwMuX6CdK3q5eaemav9JsucyCj0f-QlxQ5BhDMp-iOR78E0qV4Yg1UZIQpC94DYhfRXaW8qWriht7EKwXWN9JgT5OzTS7mew/s1600/finish-courtesy+naresh.jpg"><span style="color:#cccccc;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597028548096288562" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpuy4yACQtQZIHvqTFGsgLOr8ST06NkH4mFjGoeBQScEPSwMuX6CdK3q5eaemav9JsucyCj0f-QlxQ5BhDMp-iOR78E0qV4Yg1UZIQpC94DYhfRXaW8qWriht7EKwXWN9JgT5OzTS7mew/s320/finish-courtesy+naresh.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></p><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;">The mouth is smiling but the eyes are not so sure</span></strong></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#cccccc;"></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#cccccc;">I was given a sweetH20 hat, a bottle of water and directed to the food table. I felt dizzy and naseaus and even after throwing up it took me a long time to recover. </span></div><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB7R6qc7U95fDPxpNpA_8xe5WlNqt3qLJar0VJlHudneizSPcCcjM1SkJdlZF7If9IA0GPlKeO4qlCVbJpxkMtd6A6HV2rQlwfdaOl_Ci7nWGYgz2pfpKRdCO08eZ9uruznuKEhioXepA/s1600/215957_1664476492954_1268498605_31338835_5569985_n.jpg"><span style="color:#cccccc;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597027666850047554" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB7R6qc7U95fDPxpNpA_8xe5WlNqt3qLJar0VJlHudneizSPcCcjM1SkJdlZF7If9IA0GPlKeO4qlCVbJpxkMtd6A6HV2rQlwfdaOl_Ci7nWGYgz2pfpKRdCO08eZ9uruznuKEhioXepA/s320/215957_1664476492954_1268498605_31338835_5569985_n.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="color:#cccccc;"><br /></span></p><br /><br /><p align="center"><span style="color:#cccccc;">A final recap...</span></p><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cccccc;"><strong>AWESOME !!!</strong> </span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#cccccc;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#cccccc;">Congrats to everyone who PR'd this course, which was a ridiculously large number of people.</span></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#cccccc;">Thank you Douglas County Rogue Runners, Johnny Buice(RD) and every single volunteer that was out on the course for this event. Without you this day would not have been possible. </span></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#cccccc;"></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#cccccc;">Thank you Holly Armbruster (again!) for taking care of me. You are the absolute best. </span></div><br /><div align="left"></div>Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061476672427195988.post-6271046971597056192011-04-08T00:22:00.003-04:002011-04-08T00:27:42.345-04:00Barkley 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXtOp14H_00T6gmnxG8BdahZbWRSQt1Wdo3GLeY_eXWq4suIoAS-oBOmDFHT0y-vvZeu6i75p_qGi1djZDaEE2Nf6e0W7FmVNudn7RKMENfBAIGoOXY7VFp-16mJ5TGYmUdAao_CWTv1E/s1600/201607_1842903151008_1193465929_31857818_5867236_o.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXtOp14H_00T6gmnxG8BdahZbWRSQt1Wdo3GLeY_eXWq4suIoAS-oBOmDFHT0y-vvZeu6i75p_qGi1djZDaEE2Nf6e0W7FmVNudn7RKMENfBAIGoOXY7VFp-16mJ5TGYmUdAao_CWTv1E/s320/201607_1842903151008_1193465929_31857818_5867236_o.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593061672877186290" /></a><div>After spending six days in Frozen Head State Park bearing witness to the most incredible endurance achieve- ment I have ever seen (not to mention being in the company of such incredible people), adjusting to "real life" feels more like a smack down than a let down. </div><br /><div></div><div>As I look back on the Barkley weekend, I realize several things...</div><div><br /></div><div>First, and without a doubt, the Barkley Marathons is truly the ultimate endurance race that requires training specificity. Yielding just 10 finishers in its 25 year history, if you look at the long distance experiences of those who have survived the entirety of being "Out There" you see a common thread- these are guys who have made it their <i>business</i> to suffer for more than just days on end.. sometimes for weeks and even for months. </div><div><br /></div><div>As Sherpa John recently noted, the Barkley is probably easier for them because in their eyes it's one of the shorter events they've endured. Indeed, the bottom line for success at the Barkley appears to be the ability to suffer for long periods of time... and with a quiet patience. </div><div><br /></div><div>The take away for me for my attempt next year (if I get in!) is to train with a speed hiker's mindset, with lots of climbing and lots of relying on self sufficiency. Can you say Bartram and Foothills Trail? G<i>ood thing Charles and I were already talking about running the entire Bartram Trail- this will surely be good Barkley training. </i></div><div><br /></div>Aside from trying to wrap my mind around what it takes to finish 1 loop let alone 5 loops, for me the overwhelming experience of being a Barkley weight lister at camp this year was simply the the honor of being in the company of some of the world's greatest people and athletes. The humility and spirit of the Barkers has left me nothing short of renewed, inspired, and grateful.<br /><div></div><br /><div>Finally, and I honestly have no words to convey what this experience was like, it was simply amazing to witness Charles' most awesome defeat by this race that eats its young. He suffered the pain and had the privilege of being "out there" and in doing so joined the ranks of some of the luckiest people on the planet- he is now a Barker.<br /><div><br /></div><div>Here is his race experience in his own words: </div><div></div><br /><blockquote><p>"Today, even though it is close to a week after my tapping out, it is difficult to put into words all that I experienced while "Out There" at the Barkley this year. I certainly have a newfound respect for both the wild nature of this area and those strong enough to tackle this tremendous challenge. I feel somehow changed, more in tune with myself, than I ever have. Stronger, yet also more vulnerable. </p><p>Until Friday the 1st, as far as I knew I was still # 1 on the weight list - starting out at # 21 when the list was first published by Laz I had no expectations of getting in but over the last several weeks my name kept moving up until there it was perched right at the top. I had no choice but to prepare to run. Psyche on the other hand had moved up from # 6 on the weight list all the way up to the # 3 spot - she was getting prepared to run also. </p><p>We had originally planned on traveling up to Frozen Head to crew and lend support for our friend Joe Lea (aka Marmot) who had secured one of the slots. We knew Marmot was very strong and thought he might have a real shot as a contender. But when our names moved up on the weight list our focus shifted more to our own aspirations. </p><p>I think I had somewhat of a portent of things to come when on the drive up on Wednesday I passed by a strange assortment of dead animals - a beaver, a coyote, and a hawk! </p><p>Arriving late Wednesday Psyche and I secured a spot and setup camp. It was fantastic to meet some of the other early arrivers, "Frozen" Ed and his lovely wife Gail, Carl Laniak, Chip Tuthill, Dale Holdaway, James and John Demers, and others.</p><p>Spent Thursday sightseeing around Wartburg, hiking along the Obeds scenic river, driving up 116 past Brushy Mountain Penitentiary, and getting our things together in the event we might be "in the race". </p><p>Friday was surreal as we met more and more folks filling up the campground and finally strode up to the big white tent to meet Laz and inquire about our entries, license plates in hand. Laz informed me that I was in the race taking over John Dewalt's spot!!! So the next order of business was to go and get the topo maps we had purchased at park headquarters the day before and mark up the route on them. After doing that we went into town and lunch at Hardee's while I laminated my course directions with clear packing tape. </p><p>Friday night we sauntered up to the main gathering to eat and meet a few more folks. I never did get any of the infamous Barkley chicken because every time I went over to the grill there were no pieces ready, and then when I went back over someone had already gotten the "cooked" pieces off the grill! Damn...:) </p><p>Naresh arrived late Friday night with wild stories of a naked guy all jacked up on meth who had literally vaulted over Naresh's car next to the front gate to the park! Wow, it seems fitting that happened at the Barkley! </p><p>I laid down about 10:30 that night and actually managed to sleep about 1.5 hours until I was awakened by the conch blowing loudly through the camp at 12:07....and then again it blew! Christ! From then on it was a mad scramble to shower, get dressed, lubed, and all my gear on and ready for a cold nighttime start at 1:07 am. I struggled up the hill only to see that the race had just started and runners were moving steadily up the road toward the first climb up Bird Mountain. And I missed the cigarette lighting completely! </p><p>That initial climb up Bird Mtn was slow but definitely hard and I was sweating hard by the top. I had originally run to get in the middle of the pack but fell back a little on the climb. At the very top Iso Yucra passed me and left me standing still as he flew down the trail on the other side. All I remember about this section of trail (and true about much of the North Boundary trail) is that almost all of it was pitched and the footing was difficult/slick from recent rains. I'm still nursing a broken arm from a trail fall 8 weeks ago and have to be extra careful about falling on it again so much of the time I moved slower than the other runners on the wet terrain. </p><p>Reached Book 1 without any problem and grabbed my page, but my first mistake was that my ziplock bag was in my pack which was painfully slow to take off and put on for every book stop - later I would simply stuff the baggie in my front pants pocket. After we crossed Phillips Creek and started heading up the next climb I realized I had lost my trekking pole that I thought had been securely tied to my pack! Damn again! </p><p>Along the NBT I remember quite a bit of steep climbing on the trail and marveling at how strong the other runners were. I played tag with Allan Holtz and fell in and back with a group that included Frozen Ed, Sue Thompson, Abi Meadows, Paul Lefleholz, Dale Holdoway, and a couple others. Along this section my legs started to cramp but I was ok when I just continued on - but thoughts of having to quit early on due to spasms had me worried. During this time I heard thunder and soon some rain and small hail started falling. I struggled with the hood on my rain jacket but couldn't figure out how to clasp it so I started getting a thorough soaking. My low point on this section came at a small ditch soon after we crossed Son of a Bitch Ditch - my left leg totally seized up and I was left lying in a muddy ditch unable to move unable the cramps subsided, all the while hail was falling all around me! </p><p>On up to the coal ponds and the Garden Spot, Stallion Mountain, Fyke's Peak (which I don't remember at all!), and down to the New River was somewhat of a blur as I tried to stay with the group. They were much stronger than me on the climbs but I could usually catch them on the descents. That whole area is very eerie and traversing it at night only enhanced that foreboding feeling. I was terrified of being separated and struggled mightily to stay with the group as we all climbed around up and over the cross country terrain, sliding down steep slopes on my ass and using small trees as climbing poles to get up the steeper slopes. </p><p>We finally made it down the steep descent down a leaf filled draw to the New River and found a place to cross. The others were able to jump from rock to rock without getting their feet wet but with my paranoia about falling on a slick rock and rebreaking my arm I just wading right through the water - that would be my method to cross all subsequent streams. From the river was a jumble of downed trees to climb over and navigate around before we climbed up and over 116, traversed downroad and into the woods again. This took us up into a virtual swamp where the mud was so deep it almost sucked my shoes off. We spent about 10 minutes there hunting around before someone found Book 4. Next up - climb up the Testicle Spectacle! </p><p>Kent Moeller and I were the last to start up the climb and I quickly realized that I would never be able to catch everyone else on this huge climb, so, including Kent, I let them all go and struggled up it at my own pace. The briars were something to contend with but it was generally easy to avoid most of them. The climb itself is an unrelenting beast and gets steeper as you get closer to the top. A couple of times I actually had to grab thick briar stalks to help pull me up the muddy slope! </p><p>Once at the top there was no trace of anyone down the Meth Lab Hill side or back on the route I had taken up Testicle Spectacle - I was on my own for the first time in the race, but the sun was coming up and I still had my map, directions, and compass intact. I stopped to rest there, get some food and get my bearings to continue on. </p><p>My first of many mistakes came coming down Meth Lab Hill - instead of continuing down quite a bit and past the Neo butt slide I started off the power line cut and into the woods far up the ridge. This cross country jaunt eventually led me down the steep other side of the ridge to Raw Dog falls but I probably lost quite a bit of time. In fact even at Raw Dog falls I had trouble finding Book 5. After 15 minutes futilely searching I realized I was on the wrong side of the creek - at the Barkley perspective is EVERYTHING! Ok, now found the book and then to find Pig Head creek. I had no trouble going down and back up Pussy Ridge (not sure exactly which spot was Danger Dave's Climbing wall but if it is what I thought it was it looked too dangerous to attempt). Up a very steep and broken glass covered hillside to 116 and down a switchback - great, this must be Pig Head Creek but where is the pig head? I'll be damned if I looked and looked but never found it - hiked down the road to the next switchback, back up, and realized I must have been in the right place - but another 20 minutes wasted (I ended up climbing up the right side up a steep embankment and never saw the "trail" on the left side)! This was a tough scramble up the ravine and very steep to get up and on the ridgeline. Had no problem seeing the faint traces of old roadbed but mistake # 3 I followed the road left instead of right! Damn, after going 1/4 mile down I realized my mistake and had to climb back up. </p><p>The next section was fairly straightforward as I made my way to the old prison mine and start of the Rat Jaw climb. At this point I was trashed and hungry and sat down to rest. After a few minutes Steve Durbin happened along the trail and I was damn happy to see anyone! Steve and I made our way up Rat Jaw around the left side - this was a BITCH of a climb, especially without my trekking pole, and more than a few times I was on my hand and knees crawling up while sliding halfway back down! Up on top finally we took a break to eat and fill up on water. Howie Stern joined us as he had just arrived at the summit. One of the more humorous situations also occurred as a mother and her 2 daughters made their way to the summit on a hike and we told them a little about what we were doing "out there"! </p><p>Steve and Howie started descending Rat Jaw before I did. Once I started the descent I ran into Mike O'Melia on the way up who asked me if I wanted my trekking pole back! He had picked it up on the descent down Bird Mtn. and carried it with him the rest of the way.....I was sure glad to have it back!! The descent down Rat Jaw was uneventful but slow as I picked my way through the woods and got farther away from the power line than I wanted. Once I tracked back over I realized the briars were mostly gone on this lower section so it was pretty fast getting the rest of the way down. On the last steep section of Rat Jaw to the prison I sat down to butt slide and startled a large rat snake who had been sunning on the rocks! He started to rattle his tail to mimic a rattlesnake and actually started coming toward me so I kept poking him away with my trekking pole all the while sliding down to make my get away! </p><p>At the prison now but now the problem was figuring out how to get into the tunnel entrance! I walked around both sides before finally settling on a method that had me grabbing the gate with my right hand and I jumped down and swung myself over and onto the ledge, pulling myself up and inside by the gate! Going through the tunnel was one of the most memorable experiences I've ever had! But getting out the other side was no picnic as it was a steep bank with only loose stones to pull yourself up. </p><p>Spent some more time getting oriented for the Bad Thing climb and surely lost some time on it. By this time I was wasted and moving slower and slower - still able to climb though as I steadily moved up the mountain. When I reached the summit at last I nailed it because the Needle's Eye was right in front of me! Another break to retrieve my page and rest before staring down the Zip line. This was probably the hardest section for me - just a rugged, steep descent bushwhacking all the while and dodging downfalls, small trees, boulders, briars, and anything else that is an obstacle out in the woods. </p><p>I eventually made it down to the creek but mistakenly followed it past the confluence and onto the remains of the "jeep" road. I went down this quite a way before again realizing my mistake and backtracking up and over the creek. Book 9 was pretty easy to find. At that point I was joined by Bob Haugh and together we started up Big Hell. Although I was trashed and running on empty I was anxious to get to the top so I got ahead of Bob and made it to the summit - once again I lucked out and my "line" had taken me directly to the correct capstone where Book 10 was hidden! </p><p>From that point on was mostly a hike in as I didn't have enough energy to run - that last 4 miles seemed to take FOREVER and I was surprised to have yet another climb even on this candy-ass trail! </p><p>Made it to the campground and ran up the hill just as it was getting dark, something better than 19 hours after I started. Touching the yellow gate, seeing everyone there, and hearing taps played for me was just surreal. </p><p>The rest of the time in Frozen Head was spent resting and watching as others finished their races. It was a wonderful experience seeing Joe, John, Nick, and James finish their fun run! And Monday getting to watch as Brett made history was the greatest athletic achievement I've ever witnessed! </p><p>All in all, even though my time was way over the limit I am satisfied that I left it all on the trail. Forced to dig deep, by myself, I found out what I am made of and that has made me a better person. Yet longing to push farther.... </p><p>Psyche, it's your turn next year!!! </p><p>Thanks to Laz and everyone else who makes this event what it is, a celebration of the human spirit! </p><p>Charles Raffensperger </p></blockquote>A huge thank you to Laz and to everyone who makes this race possible. Congratulations especially to Bret Maume for his finish this year, and to everyone that had the courage to start and fail. </div><div><br /></div><div>See you next year!</div>Psychehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10111613946462318300noreply@blogger.com8