The Big Launch

I have to admit, I have experienced somewhat of a backslide the past week. It didn't help that we woke up to 6 inches of fresh snow the other day with temperatures in the 30s and a stiff wind to cool things down further. It also didn't help that I am up to my eyeballs in work trying to get ready for the launch of my new website and online service April 4-8.

By the way, you are all invited to join my online open house that goes April 4-8. On Twitter @cancerharbors and you can ask questions using the hashtag #cancerharbors or visit the new website which goes live April 4th, or visit my Facebook page called Cancer Harbors (and "like" it, too, if you do, please!)

This past Tuesday I ran with Wheaties Boy, 7 miles, which just about killed me, but was so good for me, too. And after that I have not run. I have been in stuck in the butt vortex again!

It's okay, I do need to put an unusual number of hours in the office right now, getting all the last minute arrangements set. I will get back to it and Emma and I are going running tomorrow morning. We are supposed to see temperatures in the 70s again by early next week.

Here is what my desk looked like today. Spent all day Saturday in here. And the picture below is of Dennis looking at the Cancer Harbors modules on the iPad.

I have been missing the girls something awful this week, too. I go in phases where I do okay and then something hits me and I miss them. I thought I heard Isabelle flapping her ears, then realized it was the dishwasher. Someone I know has a new litter of Australian Shepherd puppies and keeps posting pictures of the on Facebook and it's killing me. Those puppies are so cute, and I want one, but we're not ready and I know it.

In other news, my butt is just about healed up except for the one deep puncture, that still itches and scabs over. And there was some excitement in my former hometown of Fountain Hills, Arizona today where there was a Donald Trump rally and my old buddy Sheriff Joe Arpaio used the opportunity to get some attention of his own. Never have I been so glad to be gone from that place!

I heard the protesters tried to block Shea Boulevard with their cars. I was afraid there would be violence, because if anyone incites it besides Trump, it's Sheriff Joe. And those people in Fountain Hills love their guns. But as far as I've heard, it wasn't too rowdy. Sheriff Joe is 83 and says he's running for a seventh term. Just more evidence that Arizona has a serious racism problem.

Maybe we should build a wall around Fountain Hills while Sheriff Joe, Trump, and all the Trump supporters are in one place, and make Trump pay for it! But then Sheriff Joe and his black helicopter squadron would probably rescue Trump from the air and take him to the casino on the reservation just outside of town, and they'd put TRUMP in big gold letters on it so that would be the only thing you could see for miles in the desert. And that would suck.

Those are my thoughts for the day after spending 11 hours out here in my office in the cave. I think I need a beer and to go to bed.

Tomorrow is another day. I promise I will run again and get out of the butt vortex.

Silence is the Language of Hell

A little Halloween theme here...

This is Natalie, the wandering neighborhood black cat my parents adopted. She lives the ultimate life of luxury. She's a Scottsdale cat.

I've been down here for a few days and I'm decompressing. Not a lot of productive work yet but it feels good to be in a different setting, different scenery. I went running on the canal yesterday for the first run I've done since before my calf cramped into a knot a week ago.

I often miss Scottsdale when I come down here in winter on those perfectly clear days, when the temperature is perfect. It's still hot, in the 90s but once the sun goes down it's perfect.

But then I see the massive construction projects, the traffic, and the brown haze on not so clear days, and I remember why I left.

Last night we went out to Malee's with a friend of my parents who has been a nurse for over 40 years. She's a consultant and a free agent, independent. She's been through the system and through the wringer and sees what it does to people. But she decided to take control of her own life instead of allowing herself to be used by the system.

She and I had war stories to tell. One of the things we talked about was the generational divide, of how it seems like the fight has all but disappeared, that people are no longer willing to protest what they feel are injustices in the workplace.

Like I've said before, it is a systemic problem, not limited to health care or nursing, but people just seem defeated and willing to accept that they are going to be squeezed to death in the workplace, and accept the fact that the highly paid executive class will make millions while most people are lucky to hang on paycheck to paycheck.

People seem resigned to this, they don't seem to have any willingness to push back. Look at what our government has been doing. Nothing! And we allow that!

If you decide to stay in hell, that's your choice. You do have a choice. Even if you think you need that paycheck, realize that the choices you made are the ones that adjust the thermostat of your personal hell. It's one thing to sit there at work and bitch, but at some point if you're unhappy you need to decide what to do about it. Instead of burying your frustration and blowing off steam over and over again, making yourself sick, there is another way.

It took me a year to move from an initial slap in the face to where I am now, on the verge of stepping into free agency, as a nurse entrepreneur. That's not a lot of time, even though it felt like hell along the way, and it ain't over yet.

If you don't say something, you are condoning free reign of those people who are bloodthirsty and waiting with daggers...

The problem with silence is that it's collusion with the devil. Not speaking up is the easy way out, but it's not out. It's being stuck and accepting the conditions that hurt everyone else, including yourself. Silence is the language of hell. I'm saying it again. Shouting.

SILENCE IS THE LANGUAGE OF HELL!

Speaking out sheds light on the problem. It's only when a certain number of people speak loudly and clearly enough to awaken the masses that things can be changed. We're at a power disadvantage only when we don't use our own power.

I'm relaxing in the courtyard enjoying the cool morning air and the late fall Arizona sunrise, drinking my coffee. I have some serious business and fun in store for today and tomorrow.

The fun part is I'm going to be "guest bitcher" on a podcast tomorrow. I intend to not just bitch but talk about solutions. Still, it will be fun to bitch about things! I'll post the link as soon as it's up.

The serious part, but hopefully fun too, is working on some financial plans on Tuesday.

Later today I'm going out to lunch with a fellow nurse who has been through the ultimate hell. I'm meeting Amanda Trujillo.

I've always wanted to talk with her in person, and I know that her case is controversial, but I also know what big powerful interests can do with money for legal clout to beat up on the little people. And Arizona is not known for nice politics...between Sheriff Joe, Jan Brewer, the recent Arizona Medical Board scandal, and a long history of slimy political figures.

I'm off to run on the canal again...if I don't come back, look for black helicopters that say Maricopa County Sheriff...I might be shackled in pink underwear in Tent City if I'm not at the bottom of the Arizona canal covered with carp hickeys.

2013 Pemberton 50K: Hole in the Wall at the Cat House

Thirty-nine degrees and raining? In the winter, Arizona weather is often warm and sunny compared to most other places in the U.S., but somehow the past three times I've gone there for ultras, it's been cool and rainy, even cold.

That's how race day started. Dennis and I were barely awake at 4:30 am, listening to the rain on the roof at my dad's house. I was prepared for any weather, but wasn't looking forward to 50 kilometers of cold rain. I could have stayed home for that and had snow.

The night before, when we arrived in Phoenix, it was cloudy and breezy, but there was plenty of blue sky and it didn't look bad, other than the forecast, which was for rain.

By the time we got in the car to drive to Fountain Hills at 5:15, the roads were dry except for a few places, and there were a few stars visible in the sky. Promising blue holes overhead.

We left my dad's house and drove north to catch Chaparral Road to the 101 freeway. As we crossed Camelback Road, we saw a big coyote, wandering around in a parking lot, in the morning darkness. Must have been a rich coyote, hanging out near Fashion Square in Scottsdale. That's the first time I've ever seen a coyote in downtown Scottsdale.

We stopped off to grab my usual pre-ultra meal, a breakfast sandwich from McDonald's. I scarfed it down, knowing it was a short, fast pace I'd be running, and hoped I'd digest it in time. We drove through the ghost town of Fountain Hills, careful of the omnipresent Sheriff Joe deputies who love to catch people speeding at odd hours on the deserted streets with the 30 mph speed limit.

We arrived at the park and picked up my race packet. It was cold, but not terrible. Nothing wet was coming down from the sky, it didn't even smell like rain, but the sky was cloudy. It was dark until the race start at 7 am.

Brian Wieck and his mom, Joan, were at the table with other volunteers, handing out race bibs. Joan and Brian's dad, Keith, who was at a softball tournament, were our neighbors when we lived in Fountain Hills. We've been friends with Brian since he started the race, 13 years ago.

I hit the bathroom and got my act together before the start. I saw Robert Andrulis, and Chris Harrison, two of my ultra buddies from Arizona. Everyone was bundled up except for a few people in shorts, but hats and gloves, jackets and tights were the norm. I felt as cold as I ever do in Colorado. I wore my PearlIzumi jacket and my capri tights, neck gaiter over my ears, and gloves.

Brian gave the pre-race briefing in the faint sunrise. We lined up, and we were off...

I took off at a good pace, not too fast but one that would be a challenge to keep. I felt good on the first ascent and over the hill into the first aid station, I ran much of this talking with Robert. My legs were tired, they burned. I knew it was from the three hard 15ish mile days earlier in the week,and that was the point. I wanted to run unrested. I still moved well.

At the first aid station I saw Ric Hatch from Flagstaff, he's been working that aid station there since the beginning of the race, I remember working it with him one year when it rained. There was snow on the little knob of boulders above our heads, maybe 500 feet of elevation above us. I could feel sleet for about 5 minutes, but it didn't last. The sun went in and out from the clouds, but was mostly behind the clouds. Cold.

This year's race featured the new and improved Pemberton Trail. The last hour of the loop is no longer through the sand pit that used to drag on forever and ever and ever. Now there is a nice wide dirt trail that winds through the desert, with mostly a gentle downhill grade. The length is roughly the same as the old trail, but it makes it seem so much quicker now. And no sand! I don't know if it's faster because it's very twisting, lots of short, sharp little curves, but the surface is much better and it's much more interesting than the straight, sandy service road we used to run.

The second aid station had a canopy over it, and James Bonnett was there. I've known James since he was a little kid. Now he's all grown up. I grabbed some coke and pretzels and took off.

My stomach was not too happy in this section on the first loop. I realized several things: Too many beans the day before. I'd eaten black beans and rice for lunch and then had hummus for dinner, and I don't think it agreed with me. The McDonald's sandwich prior to running fast was the next problem. I think I'll save those for 12 hour and longer races in the future.

As a result, nature was calling. I felt like I needed to use the facilities, and I was afraid to stop because I'd told Dennis I'd be in between 2:15 and 2:30, and to be there past the timing tent with my stuff when I came through after the first loop. If I arrive late he always worries. That's one of the reasons he doesn't crew for me.

I got in at 2:25 and he had the camera (good), but he didn't have my stuff (BAD!). It was at the truck. It only delayed me about 2 minutes, but I whined, "Dennis!" He really is terrible at stuff like this. It's my own fault for asking him to do this for me, because I know better. But I thought it would save me time, and it backfired. The lessons will be repeated until they are learned. Some people are made to be crew people, some are not.

Brian puts on such a good race, and it benefits the park. It's a fast trail race too, defnitely has the potential for a PR. It is highly recommended by this blogger...

I took off on the second loop and immediately started obsessing about Dennis not being there, and then I felt bad for getting annoyed with him, and pretty soon my brain was spinning around inside my skull again, and it was slowing me down. Finally, on the way up the ascent, I had to tell myself, "Shut up and run!"

Another time when I found my mind wandering I brought myself back to reality by thinking of running for Team Gab. I really needed to do my best out there. If a 6 year old can endure two years of torturous medical procedures just to stay alive, I can run a 50K without whining.

Still, I was mentally discombobulated. I could not concentrate or focus, I did move pretty well, but I know I slowed myself down by being a head case. I walked a few times on the ascent but not for very long. My legs were still burning, but no worse than on the first loop. Mostly I was thinking, menopause sucks. How long will this last? For the first 8 or 9 miles of the second loop, my mind was bouncing all over the place.

Once I got on the Pemberton again, I pulled myself together. I felt strong and ran the last hour hard, a bit faster during the last hour than the previous loop. I had hoped to finish in under 5 hours but it wasn't happening. I settled for my 5:06 and change, and I felt good about the whole run, even with my temporary mental flake-out.

Brian congratulated me at the finish line and I went over to see Joan and get some chili. Dennis was working the finish line, collecting tags off of bibs for the timers. I apologized to him for being the RPB.

I talked with my friend Chris Harrison for a while. He's excited to be doing the Zion 100 in April. I'm a bit envious...

I didn't even come close to placing in my age group, I got my doors blown off by all the 40-something women, but I don't care about that. I got the workout I wanted and a solid 81 mile week, and I learned how to talk myself down from my crazy hormonal state, which I'm sure I haven't seen the last of....

I did run it 12 minutes faster than in 2010. I am going to have to rest to do well in Decatur in 4 weeks. I have 2 more weeks of high mileage and then I taper.

After the race, we hung out for a while and talked with people we know. I was talking to Will LaFollette, whom I haven't seen since before I left Arizona. I almost didn't recognize him! But we got to talking, he's been injured so hasn't been able to run. We got on the topic of retirement. Yeah, that old dinosaur concept from the last century...

This is off the topic, but I have an idea for a new retirement benefit for our generation: body removal from your workplace. Take your last pay check and deduct the cost of removing your body when you croak on the job. Perfect for our generation, who will have to work until we croak.

Brian did the awards, and we hung out just a little longer, then we left before I froze my butt off.

There was another event at the park, one of those obstacle course races. It was crazy, there were a million people and school busses in the lower part of the park, plus Sheriff Joe's deputies. They are everywhere. But no NRA stickers or Steven Seagall sightings. Not even a single black helicopter.

We stopped and saw Houdini and Huey at the park visitor center before we took off. Houdini is the Gila Monster, Huey is the rattlesnake. Both of them are well-cared for at the visitor center thanks to my friend Woofie.

Then we drove by our old house before we left Fountain Hills and went back to Scottsdale.

The rest of the weekend was uneventful, it was a relaxed visit with my dad and stepmom. I went for an easy run on the canal Sunday morning, and it was cool but the weather was perfect, clear skies.

The only excitement, if you can call it that, was when my dad was trying to pick up the cat, the cat clawed him and he somehow lost his balance and fell into the wall with his shoulder, leaving a cat-shaped hole in the drywall. Tom & Jerry couldn't get any better than that. We teased my dad about it relentlessly, the cat hole in the wall. Both my dad and the cat are okay, or we wouldn't be laughing about it...

We flew back to Denver and got home early Sunday evening, and the girls were thrilled to see us. They seemed unstressed, Morgan always takes good care of them.

And back to the old routine on Monday morning...

I Need Estrogen, STAT!

I'm so glad I am off to Arizona, I am losing my mind and I probably should be in a place with more crazy people than here for a while...at least until my hormone levels fluctuate and bring me back to my baseline state.

Today was a really weird day. I woke up this morning after a long hard day at work yesterday, with a 9 hour chemo, and lots of other patients, exhausted. When I left work Wednesday night I was so ready to go home and I had one thing on my mind.

Beer.

So I did that, and then went to sleep, and woke up to a busy day today. I had a gazillion things I needed to get done and only 24 hours to do them all, I had to pack and get ready for the race, I had to do some studying, and most of all, I needed to get my workout in. I had a lot of miles to do and I needed to get over to the track and at least get a short speed session in.

Well I just about had an anxiety attack, looking at this list of all the things I needed to get done today. I don't know why but I started freaking out, inside my own head. Nothing was stressful, there were a lot of tasks on the list, things like filling up the car with gas, cleaning up around the house, buying more dog treats, doing laundry, etc. But somehow I felt completely overwhelmed and unable to wrap my mind around it all.

I was tired, I didn't sleep well the night before my long work day on Wednesday. I knew I'd need a nap. But I felt crazy in my head. I talked myself down several times.

Then it occurred to me, I had just gotten a surprise before work on Wednesday. My damn period. I never know when it's going to happen anymore, and usualy I can predict it only because I have a race coming up. Usually I get this on race day, it never fails, it happened on race day in Oklahoma City last October, missed Across the Years by one day, so here it is, ready for the Pemberton.

So I'm freaking out because of hormones. Once I realized it was that, I tried talking myself down, out of the anxiety by saying, this is not real, it's just hormones. Did it help? I don't know. I headed over to the track. I needed to get my workout done, or I was going to LOSE IT.

But of course I never am prepared for such things, so I needed to make a trip somewhere to buy plugs, and I went over to the little pharmacy near our house and I walked in and selected a box of tampons and brought them to the counter to pay for them, and the woman at the register tells me, I'm sorry, our register is down, it's going to be a while.

I felt the panic rise in my chest. I said, sorry, I don't have time to wait. So I left, and stood outside on the sidewalk momentarily, feeling completely stressed. My brain was spinning inside my skull. What do I do? I have so much to do, I don't have time to go to another store. I have too much to do, I need to run, I need to lift, I need to pack, I need to print my boarding pass, I need...

Finally the light bulb turned back on, and I went next door to Sprouts, and fortunately they had plugs, the expensive, organic cotton kind, OMG I cannot justify spending $8.00 on a box of tampons that I might never need again (but I probably will). But since I was near the dog treats and food I managed to cross a few items off my list while there. That helped my mental state. Why didn't I think of that in the first place? I'm losing my mind.

One of my friends told me that for several years when she was going through menopause she had terrible anxiety attacks, for no reason at all. The only thing that saved her, she said, was running. I remembered that, and told myself that's all it is.

I went to the track and warmed up, fortunately the lady who runs backwards was not there, otherwise I'm afraid I might have freaked out. I got a rough start with the first 400 meter repeat, but after that I settled in nicely. I ran them very relaxed, without pushing hard. I didn't want to kill my legs before Saturday's race. I ended up running ten of them between 96 and 98 seconds, not bad.

I cooled down, then filled up my gas tank, and went home, and started chipping away at my long list. By 3 pm I had made decent progress, enough to take a break for a nap. And I slept...until 5:40 pm!

I finished everything on my list and then surfed Facebook for a while, and came across this amusing yet disgusting tidbit of information, about an event that's taking place in my old hometown, Fountain Hills, just down the road from the park where the Pemberton 50K will be held this Saturday.

Should I skip the Pemberton Trail 50K and attend this instead? Decisions, decisions...

Given my propensity toward freaking out this week, maybe the better thing to do would be to bag the race and feed my Random Perimenopausal Bitch this weekend, get Steven Seagall's autograph, and contribute to the volunteer effort to make Arizona's schools suckier than they already suck? Oh sure, let's put money into arming the schools when we can't even afford to fund a decent education. Makes sense. I'm sure in my demented hormonal state, I'd fit right in with all the other crazies there.

Fountain Hills, when I lived there, was known for having crappy schools, a big drug problem among the kids, and their parents too. But Fountain Hills' most notorious resident, Sheriff Joe himself, was known for flying his black helicopters around overhead searching for Hispanic males. Oh, and did I ever mention, Sheriff Joe is a racist freak.

Whatever happens this weekend, I'm off to Arizona, hopefully I won't be detained at the border...if I disappear, check the Maricopa County jail. I'll be the one with the pink underwear.

Across The Years 24 Hour: Chasing the Grimmster

I've been struggling trying to write this blogpost. Maybe I'm just suffering from a post-race food coma, or I'm still not functioning well despite having plenty of sleep and naps since I got back to my dad's house early Tuesday morning.

So I apologize if this has taken a while to spit out. I won't waste too many words. I am so confused with the days from being on vacation, I can't keep track, and I won't know what day it is until I go back to work this weekend.

Pre-Race

I've been staying on the east side of the valley at my dad and stepmom's house in Scottsdale. The race itself is held on the west side of town, in Glendale, a good 45 minute drive only in optimal traffic conditions. I got a hotel room in the race hotel the night before, 5 minutes from the race, so race morning would be quick and uncomplicated, and I'd be able to sleep in. The race starts at 9, which is a leisurely starting time, works great for me.

The new race site is at Camelback Ranch, which is a training facility for the LA Dodgers and I'm not sure what else, I claim ignorance in such matters of sport other than running and a particular variation of tennis.

I arrived at the race site Sunday afternoon to set up my table and check things out, then check into the hotel. My first view of the race was drivingalong west Camelback Road, I could see the zombie-like march of the runners along the south end of the course, before I turned into the ball park area.

When I turned into the parking area and saw the tents, after seeing the early death marchers, the first thing that crossed my mind was: Sheriff Joe's Tent City.

I don't know if you're familiar with stories of Arizona's infamous Sheriff Joe, but his Tent City concentration camp that he runs legally is just one of the things he's known for...

I set up my table and checked out the race set up, things looked pretty basic, and very well-organized. I walked a little of the course, but figured I'd have a chance to see the whole thing enough times during the race, I didn't feel the need to do a full lap. I talked to a few people and went back to the hotel.

Ugh. Race hotel. Ugly, cold, sterile, not very comfortable-feeling. I walked into my room and it was freezing! The heat had been turned off, so I cranked it up, dropped off my stuff and left to go seek out food and race morning essentials, like a McDonalds and where to get ice for the cooler.

Before I left my dad's house in Scottsdale, I started my attempt to eat as many calories as possible the day before the race. I started with eggs and tamales. The tamales were leftovers they had from Havana Cafe, awesome.

It looked cloudy, like it was going to rain later. I hoped the weather would hold up for the race. Out my hotel room window, which looked out to the west over the ball park, it looked like rain was on its way.

The weather forecast looked okay except for the temporary rain. I hoped it would keep the dust down on the course. The only thing I noticed about the course was that the dirt seemed to be loose and easy to kick up, blister alert. I had my gaiters and plenty of footgear ready just in case.

I got some take out from an Italian restaurant, I got lasagna, and went back to the hotel room to scarf that down. I found a McDonald's that was less than 5 minutes from the ball park, perfect for the morning.

By the time I got back the room it had warmed up in the bedroom area, but the rest of the room was freezing. I had booked a suite because originally I thought Steph would be coming with me, but decided to keep it, for the price, it was good. It wouldn't have been very comfortable for anyone who would sleep in the bigger room, it was still cold out there.

By sunset, it was raining. I took a shower, texted with Paul Grimm who was waiting for Matt and Anne Watts to arrive at the Phoenix airport on their delayed flight, called Dennis, and wrote some e-mails, and then went to bed. I had a hard time falling asleep, but once I did, I slept well.

The rain didn't last long, and was long gone by morning.

Race Morning

I woke up a few minutes before my alarm went off in the morning, got my stuff together and checked out of the room. I drove to McDonalds and got my sandwich. Then I drove to the ball park to pick up my race packet and finished setting up my table. I met up with the 24 Hour contingent from Colorado: Paul Grimm (aka the Grimm Reaper or The Grimmster, as I prefer to call him), Matt & Anne Watts, Eric, Anne and Ethan Pence from Vail.

I also saw my friend Megan Dell from Albuquerque. Megan is now medical director of Badwater, ever since Lisa Bliss stepped down from doing that. We kept our stuff together at a table, and ran quite a few laps together early in the race.

The weather was cold, clear and perfect. Couldn't ask for a better day.

As usual, I was freezing, and wearing a little extra clothing. Here I am next to Anne Pence, who lives near Vail. She's dressed for summer, and I'm from the banana belt of Fort Collins, dressed for winter.

People were dressed in an array of outfits, typical of ATY.

The Plan

The plan I discussed with Wheaties Boy and that I wanted to stick to was 58 miles in the first half, at least 50 in the second half. I knew it would be hard to hang on but I really wanted to tough it out after a solid first half and get those miles in. I really had no idea what I would be capable of, I've put a few miles in since Oklahoma but haven't been doing anything fast other than the tempo runs. I needed to get out there and put the hammer down and see what happened. If I blew up, I blew up.

The morning was uneventful. I just settled into a comfortable pace and kept moving. I talked with Megan a lot, I looked for Debbie Leftwich, but didn't see her until at least early afternoon. This course is a mile around so you don't see people as often as you did at the old Nardini Manor course.

I saw the Grimmster only a couple of times in the daylight, he was complaining about the grape-flavored (so he claims) gel packet that had exploded all over the front of his shorts, but he was really proud of it too. Matt Watts was giving him a hard time about it, so we began ribbing him about that all day. With Paul, it's always something. He knows he's a nerd, but the dude didn't even know how to play fart tennis until race day. I had to teach him!

It was a good thing I had plenty of time to do that. I had to entertain myself with something while I was trying to hold my pace down. Paul was running well, though. Matt was moving well too, he was on for 100+ miles.

I did go out hard and I wanted to see how I felt, having no idea what would happen. I went through 50 miles in 10:03, which was only slightly fast for my plan, but basically perfect. I kept having to force myself to slow down and take a walking lap, which was nice, it gave me a chance to text people and check Facebook for messages, which was a nice distraction.

I took some food breaks, and short social breaks to hang out with my dad, my brother, and my 16 year old niece Jenny who came out to watch the race for a while. I was eating, drinking, and peeing, but not doing any of it meticulously or methodically as I usually can do.

It's really hard for me to run a slow 50. Ten hours is pushing the limits of my patience. I feel like I'm having to waste time in order to not go the pace I want to run.

As soon as I crossed the timing mats at the first lap where I had surpassed 50 miles, I heard someone groan behind me. I turned around, and it was The Grimmster, he'd been trying to catch me on that lap. I chicked him, and I didn't even know he was tailing me. Being the chess nerd that he is, he challenged me. He said I'll race you to 64 miles, that's the square of 8. Whatever, Paul. I agreed to the challenge.

For some reason, the drinks with the S caps were not appealing to me, and I didn't feel like eating. I finally forced myself to have some potato chips for the salt, and yogurt. I'd been eating fig bars, trying to get at least 100 calories every half hour, but I knew it wasn't enough. Yogurt always seems to work when nothing else sounds good, and it worked again. I had half a grilled cheese sandwich around 1 pm, and that was the only food that tasted good all day.

I started wondering if maybe my strategy of eating so much the day before made me not want to eat early in the race.

I went through 58 miles in 11:56, perfect. I'd waited a while to change into really warm clothes, but once I did, I was glad I had the layers on. The temperature dropped sharply at some point. Around 10 pm I was hungry and I ate a huge slice of pizza. I was still moving well. I sent Wheaties Boy the text I'd promised him when I got to 58 miles.

Dennis had to send me this picture of the Buffaloes...breaks my heart. Talk about a guilt trip!

Shortly after that I started to feel cold, which I knew was from digesting the food. I kept moving and walking fast so I could digest it and start running again. I put more clothes on, and felt I was slowing down. I walked another full lap in about 15 minutes and still felt like the pizza was sitting there. I tried running some, and managed to run pretty well again.

I was watching Debbie Leftwich, who was only about a lap behind me. She was my main competition, and she was moving well, and eating well. I was still moving well, but not eating well, and that worried me. Since the Grimmster had challenged me to the square of 8, or 64 miles, I decided to focus on that. I have no idea where he was when we got to that point, but I was a solid lap ahead of him.

I wanted to tell him to quit hanging out in the bathroom so much, some people just can't get enough, I guess, and at his age he should be glad it still works. He's only 42 but I like to tell him he's old, and then sharpei him. And I did, at 64 miles. Except I never saw him in time to challenge him to 81 miles.

I was dealing with intermittent nausea. I had some Starbucks doubleshots and coke, and continued to drink fluids, but I was forcing everything. Food was no longer remotely interesting.

Around midnight they were starting to set up the New Years celebration tables with party favors and glasses of sparkling cider and champagne. I was just short of 70 miles when the clock said 11:52 and I didn't want to stop for 8 whole minutes, just to wait, as I was still only a lap ahead of Debbie.

I'd been watching Joe Fejes, Michael Arnstein and Ian Sharman all day. I was really wanting to be able to run a bit with any of them, and ask some questions about how they train and prepare for the 24 hour event. I need to talk to someone about it, because I feel like I'm struggling with the event.

I know I'm capable of running many more miles than I have, but not sure where to start. Ian and Michael were running way too fast for me to stay with them even for a lap, and I ran with Joe a few times, but it never worked out to have a conversation. I was also feeling worse, and getting cold.

The New Year

After Megan and I passed the timing mats, about 5 minutes after midnight, I grabbed a cup of sparkling cider and I sipped that. I was coming up on the real bathrooms, which were heated, and that I'd been using ever since the sun went down instead of the portapotties. I was shivering.

I went in there and peed, then felt a wave of nausea hit me. I stood there, wondering if I was going to puke. It passed. I didn't want to waste my time in the bathroom so I got back out there in the cold. I kept moving, walking, but feeling like I might puke soon.

Shortly after we changed directions on the track at 1 am, I had slowed down enough and had piled on more layers, and I was still freezing, shaking, shivering, and I couldn't stand the thought of trying to drink something hot. Cold coke was the only thing I'd been able to sip for an hour. I was cramping, too, in my rib muscles, my butt, and my quads.

I hit the warm bathroom again right around 2 am, a repeat of last time. I was shaking worse, and realized I needed to get into the heated tent, at least for while. I hadn't been lapped by Debbie and I was still ahead but I knew I needed to take care of my problem or I'd be hypothermic. I braved the cold air again, and stumbled the last 200 meters or so to the medical tent.

I went in and sat down in front of the heater, and they put a space blanket over me. I was shivering. They had ORS, and I took a few sips, and that was all I needed, I started puking. There actually wasn't all that much in my stomach, mostly dry heaves. But I was cramping all over, every time I gagged, my ribs and back were spasming. I knew I was in trouble with my hydration, I could feel all the thick salt crust on my face when I added some clothes earlier.

I sat there for a long time, realizing I was in bad enough trouble with my hydration that it wasn't going to be a fixable solution in the remaining 6 hours to go after my goal realistically. I also knew I wouldn't be able to move fast enough to stay warm, even if I fixed the hydration issue, it would take a while, and there wasn't enough time on the clock. I had 78 miles in at that point, and I could tough it out to drag out more miles, or I could call it good, a training run amd learning experience, and try to dissect it later on.

I also realized that if I stopped, I'd get a head start on recovery and it really would be a decent training run, because up to that point, I had been running reasonably well. Once I thought of the recovery aspect, I was sold. I waited a while until the nausea was gone, I warmed up a bit, and around 3:30 am I turned in my timing chip, said good-bye to Nick Coury in the timing tent and he thanked me for coming, told me to come back again, and gave me my beer stein.

The paramedics in the medical tent got my car keys, went with me to my truck and helped me get in, and I warmed up the truck and sat in there for a while before driving over to break down my table and haul everything to the truck. I did see Megan and Paul while I was packing up, so I told them both what happened, and wished them a happy new year and a good race. Both of them did run well. I never got to see Debbie, but I talked with her on Facebook after the race, she ended up winning with 106 miles, which she was really happy about. She did look great out there.

Once I broke everything down it was almost 5 am. I started heading across town on the freeway, back toward Scottsdale. I was hoping I wouldn't wake up my dad and stepmom when I got to their house. On my way, I remembered it was New Year's Eve when I saw Sheriff Joe's bus, the DUI Detail, headed along the freeway, taking a busload to Tent City, no doubt.

When I got home, my dad had set the alarm in the back half of the house, which I'd thought about, but I was too brain dead to remember. I tripped the alarm coming in, and woke them up anyway. They were surprised and concerned, but also amused, my stepmom said he had a feeling he shouldn't set it, but she thought there was no way I'd be home that early. I told them what happened, and fortunately they were able to go back to sleep. I got to bed around 6 am and slept until 10:30.

My feet were ugly at first, very heat rashed, and I blistered in two places: My right big toe, and on the bottom of my calf in the spot between my compression socks and gaiters, must have been rubbing my skin back there. My big toenails look funny, like they might turn black and fall off eventually, but maybe not...we'll see.

The only thing I thought was less than ideal about the new facility was that the dirt was really loose, and it was dusty. Not really anything that can be done about that. I've become a road primadonna, I guess. It wasn't bad, and my feet actually didn't blister too much, considering how badly I needed salt and didn't hydrate properly.

So I've spent the last day and a half napping, eating, sleeping, and then today I walked downtown for a few miles, did a little window shopping. It was a beautiful day, cold, clear, breezy and perfect. Too bad I have to go back to the real cold tomorrow.

The only residual soreness I have is in my right leg, in the quadriceps muscles, from my hip to my knee. And also in my lower back on that side, around my iliac crest, like the attachments are all tight and need to be released. I think it's all from muscle spasms and shivering. My left leg feels fine. But on the right, it just feels generally sore, once that resolves I should be fine with running. Today it doesn't feel good to run on it.

As I walked around town today, I saw all the crazy K-State and Oregon football fans in their crazy outfits. I stopped at Ra to eat sushi this time. I won't stop until I see the worms crawling out of my butt.

I'm sure I'll have more to say about all this, soon. For now, I'm just going to spend the next couple of weeks figuring out how to get started again. I have some ideas, and I'm going to find someone really good to talk to for 24 hour training ideas.

For now, Happy New Year, and I'll be back in Colorado soon, planning my next race. I can't wait!