Close Encounters of Three Kinds...

1. Touroidus celluloidus

When I was in forestry school at NAU (where I got my bachelor's degree way back in the ancient times, when dinosaurs still ruled the earth) we used to have a joke among our classmates, that when we went out to forest recreation sites, among the many wildlife species we would encounter were Touroidus celluloidus. The fat-assed tourist.

They drove as much as they could, parked as close to the destination as possible, the picnic was the highlight of their trip, and they always asked stupid questions.

It's true, we really did say that. Not PC at all. But that was also back in the days before the obesity epidemic really took hold, the early eighties. Reagan was president, the "gourmet" food craze was just starting out, and fat was only beginning to be thought of as the demon. What followed was the removal of fat from the junk food diet and replacement by carbohydrates, which led us to the great waistline expansion and Type II diabetes explosion of today.

When I think about my life back then I think I was some kind of alien among my classmates who were mostly male, very conservative, a few were rednecks, they listened to annoying, twangy country music and chewed and spat tobacco, always had a blob in one side of their jaw, spit into soda cans, drank cheap beer, and drove big pickup trucks with long antennas on top and wore pointy boots, jeans, and flannel shirts. And hats, always cowboy hats or baseball caps.

I was one of a small handful of women in my class. An alien race for sure.

Speaking of aliens, I have always been curious about Devil's Tower. I've been to the Black Hills many times for races and runs, but never took the opportunity to go see it, even though it's only about an hour out of the way. This time I made a point of going there on my way to Spearfish, where I was running the Leading Ladies marathon.

I drove north on a little highway from Douglas to Gillette, Wyoming, though oilfield country. Nothing but oil rigs, oil wells, oil tankers, and antelope. Then took a road off of I-90 to the monument. I could see the Black Hills from Gillette and the scenery got better as I drove north.

I drove over the Belle Fourche river, and from a high point on the highway, I could see some rock formations in the distance, and I knew the one by itself had to be Devil's Tower.

Approaching it on the road, it became more impressive the closer I got. People were beginning to turn off the road to take photographs, and I did too. I wished I could be there at sunrise or sunset so the light would be better, but it was noon.

I drove down a hill, around a curve, and there it was...Disneyland! Ugh.

Prime Touroidus celluloidus habitat. There was a long line of cars leading up to the entrance station, and I momentarily considered turning around and bagging it. But then I knew I'd be disappointed, so I stayed, sitting in line with the line of cars blowing exhaust, surrounded by tourists at the KOA and little stores advertising ice cream, trinkets, and other touristy garbage. There was even a car show going on.

There were lots of overweight people milling around eating ice cream, giant RVs parked in tiny parking lots, and people sitting there, in folding chairs, alongside the road, breathing exhaust, watching I'm not sure what...the line of traffic waiting to go through the entrance station to pay $10 to see the tower?

By the time I got a quarter mile from the trailhead, it got quiet and the crowds disappeared, with only occasional walkers, many of whom spoke German or Japanese. But there was one guy who easily topped 300 pounds, who was walking along, pouring sweat, and talking to his companion about how he feels like his body is pushing it's limits, that he could tell he was getting dehydrated...as if he were on some long remote trek in the wilderness...

I ignored the drama, but I really thought I would have a chance to practice CPR before I made it around the trail once. So many VERY unfit looking people. Very bad. It looks like this might be the most exercise most of them had in a long time. Huffing and puffing to get up little baby hills, maybe 20 feet high.

Looking up at the giant columns of "phonolite porphyry, a...greenish-gray igneous rock with conspicuous crystals of white feldspar" according to the Tower Columns, a newsprint souvenir freely distributed at the little booth at the park entrance.

The tower was different all the way around, many interesting views from each angle. Again, I wish the light had been better, but I got the best pictures I could.

2. Leading Ladies Marathon

After the tower, it was about an hour drive to Spearfish. First I stopped off at the Holiday Inn to pick up my race packet. It's an all women's marathon, so there were a lot of colorful items in the expo. Close encounters with a lot of pink stuff. Nothing I was interested in.

I walked around a little, got my number, t-shirt, and chip, and the information I needed, and then I went across the street to my hotel and was able to check in. Once I got up to my room, I cranked the air conditioning as cold as it would go, and started getting my stuff organized for a 3 am wakeup. The buses were leaving the Holiday Inn across the street at 4 am, for the 6 am race start.

I went out to get some food. I didn't see anything that interested me except a Mexican restaurant that someone told me was good. So I decided to go there and get take out, and go back to the room and eat. I could not believe the size of the portion they gave me. There were enough refried beans for an army. I happen to like refried beans if they are the really really bad kind, the Mexican kind, probably made with lard and they taste awesome. Well that was the case. And I ate them. It was 4 pm. I figured I was eating early enough that I'd be able to fall asleep.

I organized my clothes and stuff for the morning and thought about my plan, sitting down on my mat on the floor to stretch.

I was thinking if I could keep a 9 minute pace that would be good, so my goal in my head was to finish in under 4 hours. I had fantasies of running 3:30 a few weeks back, but given the fatigue in my legs I dismissed that altogether, even with the downhill. My goal would be to run sub 9s average.

I only ran 26 miles before the marathon that week. But one day I did do almost 16 miles and felt pretty dead at the end of it, so I knew my legs weren't going to perform any miracles. Plus with my tight hips and gluteals that I've been obsessively stretching and strengthening only for about a week, I knew I was limited.

I slept okay, turned off the lights at 8:30 and woke up once to pee but went back to sleep. No hot flashing, thanks to the AC.

I woke up at 2:55, and did my usual prerace routine. Coffee, thyroid pills, stretch, shower, dressed, eat something. I packed a sandwich to eat on the bus along with some water and a vitamin water zero. I took my running pack and a water bottle half filled with ice.

I left the room at 10 to 4, to walk across the street to catch the bus.

The bus went to the park where the finish line was, to pick up more runners, then up to Deadwood and past the town of Lead up to the country club for the start. We passed places I remembered from my trip with Ed, like the burger place on the highway that was our motivation. And I remembered getting lost trying to find the trail head and almost driving to Wyoming in the process, and finally coming back to the same road past the country club.

The woman I sat next to on the bus was doing the 50 states so she picked my brain for some ideas for marathons in different states. I was able to help her with about half a dozen.

We could see lightning in the distance, but there was no rain. When the sun rose it was clear. I hit the portapotties first- got at front of bus with that in mind. After 3 trips I thought I was done. I stretched in the dark, waiting for the start.

When we lined up at start, I was surprised to see pacers. A man was pacing the 3:45 group-the fastest paced runner group. Then there were women pacers: 4 hours, 4:10, 4:20, 4:30 and who knows what else was back there. The women pacing the pace groups looked like they might struggle with the times they were supposed to be pacing, but I do my own thing so I really didn't care. There were two women who looked like twins at the front. They looked to be older than me but had dark hair, they looked fast and skinny and had some sort of Boulder shirts on. I figured they would be up front so I got several rows behind them.

I stood in line next to the 3:45 pace dude, not intending to stay with him. The horn sounded, and we were off, on a gravel road, going straight up a fairly steep hill. After a couple of miles we were on pavement.

3. The Shrubbery

Shortly after mile 2 I realized I needed to use the facilities, which were nonexistent. They promised portapotties at most aid stations, but I knew I wasn't going to make it to the aid station, wherever it was. I spotted a place just up and off the road in some thick trees. It was a good three or four minutes before I got back on the road. Even though I was smart to bring some TP and baby wipes, I didn't bring enough. I was in trouble.

Then I was worried that my intimately close encounters with the shrubbery might have been poison ivy since I remembered it from my trip with Ed.

My splits looked like this (for those who are interested in such things): Mile 1 10:23, mile 2 19:57, Mile 3 33:53. Then it faded into an amorphous mess of uneven splits broken up by sprints into the woods. I was only focused on finding the next spot to take cover. I resupplied myself with toilet paper at one of the aid station portapotties.

It was a screaming downhill for a while, I hit 10 miles in 1:35:56, then there was a mile uphill gravel road section to some waterfalls. I actually considered quitting at mile 10!! I felt so crappy I just didn't want to do it anymore. But then I decided to continue with a tourist stroll. Maybe I would feel better later, I could only hope. I was behind the 4:10 pacer, I could see that group of three or four runners far ahead of me.

Walking uphill to the waterfall a young runner came up on me and started chatting. she was running and I was walking, she asked me if this was my first time. I smiled and said, I wish! I asked her if it was her first and she said it was. She asked me how many I've done and I said, I don't keep track, but it's a lot. I started to talk with her and started jogging along with her. It got me going.

She said her goal was to finish without walking. I gave her my nicest-toned gentle lecture about walking, which is, never feel bad about walking, there is nothing wrong with it, it gives your muscles a break and you end up going faster in the long haul. I walked for about 3 minutes before she caught me, and that was it for my walking.

Just before 13 miles there was an aid station. I stopped for some bananas and more water, then I took off. My legs were sluggish, but they were moving. By then I was only thinking about making it back to the hotel room in time to check out and get a shower before I drove home. That was my new goal, 5 hours.

I wasn't even mad at myself for not bringing my phone to take pictures. It was beautiful, but I was not in an enthusiastic mood.

I hit the halfway mark, the half marathon start, in 2:08:25. I had a couple more portapotty and shrubbery breaks before 17 miles. I ate a gel at 14, and another one at 18, plus a few banana pieces at the aid stations.

I saw a dead snake on the side of the road that made me jump. Maybe it was the adrenaline from that, but something happened after 17 miles, suddenly my legs kicked in, my gut felt better, and I started moving. My splits started to be consistently under 9 minutes and kept getting faster.

I didn't need any more pee or poop breaks, I must have gotten rid of whatever it was, the alien that took over my insides was finally expelled. I had exorcised the demons, or the other-worldly thing that followed me from Devil's Tower.

We had cool shaded canyons for the first 20 miles, a few sunny areas after halfway but it was quite pleasant and didn't really get warm until the last hour.

Around 18 miles I passed the 4:10 pacer, then around 21 miles I passed the 4:00 pacer, who were each running alone. Yup.

As I was descending the canyon I was passing people left and right, and not just the half marathoners who were walking. I must have passed about 25 marathoners on my way into town in the last 9 miles.

Whenever you're in a race and feeling good in the second half, spectators always see you and cheer for you. "You're looking great!" because compared to everyone else who passes them in a semi-death march state, you look good. That was happening to me, and of course that helps.

When I made the turn that takes you to the bike path that delivers you the last 3/4 mile to the finish line, I was flying, relatively. Eight minute pace is flying at the end of a marathon. I felt good and cruised into the finish, but really glad to be done. 4:10:52 on my watch. Not bad. Not good, but not disastrous. I know that without the poop breaks it would have been easily under four hours, I had to remember that.

At the finish they handed us COLD bottles of water, some scented towels (lavender?), and red roses, along with our medals, which said, "Queen of the Road". It was actually refreshing. I went looking for the shuttle that would take me back to the hotel and it was leaving in 10 minutes, so I looked for the results and had just enough time to see my first-timer buddy from the rough section finish her first marathon. I had passed her around 20 miles. I went over to congratulate her. She was still emotional and elated from her experience. It HAS been a LONG time for me.

I got on the shuttle and headed back to the hotel. I forgot about my drop bag, but all it had in it was half a sandwich that I never ate, some gels, and an old t-shirt I don't care about.

I showered, checked out of the room, and hit the road to drive home. It took 6 hours, and as I drove, my left thigh was screaming for about two hours. It seriously hurt. I was afraid to step on the clutch, I cringed every time I had to shift. I briefly wondered if I had fractured my femur, it was so bad. I was planning to take some ibuprofen when I stopped for gas, but by then it had quieted down and I didn't take any. Now it doesn't feel any different from the right leg. Not sure what that was about, but it's gone.

And now I'm home. Back to the routine. I'm slightly sore but not too bad. I walked and stretched today and didn't run. I'll see how things unfold this week, I might wait until mid-week before I start to hit it hard again. Only two more weeks and I'm tapering.

So it wasn't my best day, but I forgot about marathons. They are a different creature. Sort of alien to me now.

But the best news is, it wasn't poison ivy!!!!

Drop A Double Mick!

A Double Mick???

Don't be silly, I'm not into snowboarding.

It's a run, my own brainstorm, a self-supported, self-contained adventure fun run of the Black Hills! The George S. Mickelson Trail stretches 109 miles from Edgemont to Deadwood, South Dakota, and I'm planning to run it out and back this summer. The Double Mick will be a total of 218 miles plus a few extra miles in pit stops and towns along the way.

I've run parts of the Mickelson Trail before, during the Lean Horse 50 and 100 mile events, and I've explored some other stretches of the trail on my own. I love the Black Hills, the scenery is awesome, and it's generally not mobbed with tourists like some other places are. Except for certain times of the year, when people come from all over to motorcycle rallies, street festivals with historical themes, and special events focused on the local wildlife, like the Bat Festival.

I have this thing about running out and back, when I run through a scenic area I like to see it from different perspectives, and at different times of the day, with different lighting. There are so many things you miss if you only go one way. It's the artist in me, I want to get a feel for the area and the size of the landscape and sky. There isn't any organized run out here to do this, but I'm all about making my own adventure, so I started to plan it.

When I asked a few of my friends last fall about their interest in doing this with me, everyone either had racing plans or travel plans in June. They were interested but the timing wasn't right. June is the ideal month because of the length of the daylight hours, and my racing and other plans are later in the year. So I decided to figure out a way, if necessary, to do it solo. Ed was interested in a tour of the Black Hills, and certainly capable of 218 miles in 5 days, but wasn't sure he could get that much time off work with his other plans. But the Bat Festival proved to be too much intrigue, and just the other day I found out...

Holy Guano Batman! My running buddy and supercrewer/pacer/fashion star from last year's Badwater double, Skortman Ed, will be there, at least for part of it. But now, he's Batman Ed. At this point, Ed is still unsure of whether he can escape from work long enough to do the whole thing. We're hoping he can, but for now, he plans to do most of it. Things are looking favorable, though.

We had to scramble to get our act together this winter because of the jam-packed tourism schedule in the Black Hills all summer. We were competing with everybody from rodeo goers to cyclists to Bat Festival attendees for a limited number of rooms. It would really be a bummer to get there and have to share a room with bats. They could sleep on the ceiling, I suppose. But no worries, we got reservations, and just a few more logistical details need to be worked out.

The Caped Crusader (formerly known as Skortman) and I will start out June 15th somewhere in the Black Hills and run 218 miles or more, finishing on the 19th. We have the daily time constraint of sunup to sundown, because the Mickelson Trail regulations limit use to daylight hours only. But that's a good thing, it means we can't get too sleep-deprived. We're staying overnight wherever we can get rooms for showers and some sleep. There isn't much to choose from. For example, in Edgemont, there's only one motel. If you've ever been to Edgemont, you'd understand why. But also it happens to be the southernmost point on the Mickelson Trail.

"Watch for poison ivy and rattlesnakes on this part of the trail. It can get extremely hot in summer..." the brochure warns.

On paper, it looks like Deadwood, Custer, and Edgemont all have accomodations, grocery or convenience stores, and restaurants that will work as pit stops for us. I am a bit disappointed that we can't run on the trail at night because that is the best time, but I can always run the Lean Horse 100 again if I want to run through there at night.

Still, we'll be averaging nearly 45 miles a day on the gravel railroad grade of the Mickelson Trail. We're running as close to summer solstice as possible, so we can have maximum daylight on the trail. We're thinking it will be a bit slow, because of the Batmobile.

The Batmobile does not exist yet, except in our imaginations. We are in the process of figuring out what combination of converted baby jogger/bike trailer will be easy and portable enough for us to share the burden, to carry a supply of ice and a few minimal supplies for us from pit stop to pit stop. We have one major issue we need to address for sure: we need adjustable height handles. Why? Because I am 5'1" tall on a good day, and Ed is 6'5" (see below).

So, we're working on it. We have a few ideas. We don't need something excessive, but there are some long stretches of the trail where there is no water and it can get hot enough that we will need some ice. It can be anywhere from freezing to 105 degrees, so we'll have to be prepared for temperature fluctuations and any weather conditions. Along with mountain lions, bears, rattlesnakes, bats, poison ivy, you name it. As usual though, the freakiest wildlife encounter that ever challenges us is the human element. But what is an adventure without adventure?

One thing is for sure, it will be fun. And I do have a plan for Ed's Double Mick Batman outfit.

A little birthday shopping spree at Walmart.

Nirvana at Night: Lean Horse 100

Final score: Argyle Road 100, Alene's feet -4 toenails in overtime, 28 hours, 22 minutes.

I had to run the Lean Horse 100. It's inexpensive, it's close to home, it has the same climate and terrain as Fort Collins, I know a lot of the runners who were there, the time of year is perfect, and I needed a training run for Across the Years. Mission Accomplished.

By the time I reached the finish line twenty-eight hours and twenty-two minutes later, my feet had been screaming expletives at me with every step since about mile 80. Ask my feet if they needed it.

But the real outcome of this race was that I was once again reminded of why I do ultras, despite the temporary pain like sore feet. Running through the trees and scenery of the Black Hills, and through the moonlight at night, is the ultimate high. And the Mickelson Trail is the perfect place to do that.

Overall it was a fun time and everything you could want in a 100 miler was there. It wasn't my best race, not by far, but it was one of those gems, low-key, easy on the budget, great scenery, nice course.

Holley Lange from Fort Collins was running the 100, and Doug and Marji Nash were coming up to help both of us. The plan was for Doug and Marji to crew for me from the 16 mile point until about halfway when Doug would begin pacing Holley, and Marji would crew for me throughout the night.

The way things worked out, Holley ended up having muscle problems that resulted in a painful 45 degree lean, and at about halfway she decided it was enough, a wise decision. Marji gave Doug and Holley a ride back to Custer, where Holley found a ride back to Hot Springs so she could go back to her motel room. Doug ended up crewing with Marji all night and then he paced me down the last 16 mile Argyle Road stretch in the morning.

Another nice thing about Lean Horse is the reasonable 6 am start time. It's always great to get a decent night's sleep before the race. I need that.

I appreciate so much that Jerry, the race director, kept the pre-race briefing short and to the point. It lasted no more than about 20 minutes. There is nothing worse than pre-race events that go on for hours when all you want to do is eat and finish preparing for the long day ahead.

The pre-race dinner was a little disappointing, but it is a low key event. They had only hamburgers, bratwurst, and potato salad loaded with mayonnaise. None of those things are appealing to me anyway, but especially not the night before a race. I choked down a dry hamburger and then walked across the street to the grocery store and bought a couple of frozen pasta dinners to heat up in my motel room microwave. Ugh.

Hot Springs doesn't have much for restaurants, there was a Pizza Hut, a Subway, a Dairy Queen, and a few little mom & pop places.

I saw a lot of runners I knew at this race, and I met a few for the first time. I saw Badwater/Across the Years runners Dan, Jamie, and Dave. Pat and Karen were there, along with Steph, my super alpha crew chief at Badwater. Karen was running and Pat and Steph were crewing for her.

I also saw Brad, who reads my blog and was running his first 100 at Lean Horse. He ended up having an outrageously great race, finished 5th overall in about 20 ours. Way to go Brad! Congratulations! I saw him around halfway during the race and he had his son with him, and he looked fantastic. Mike from Fort Collins finished 3rd, and I haven't met him yet, but congratulations.

I met Fuzz from Oregon for the first time, whom I know only from the ultra list. I met Bob, who was paced by my friend Cat at this year's Grand Mesa 100. And I met Ray.

I first met Ray around 15 miles on the Argyle Road, he was chasing butterflies. I threatened him. I said if you're not careful, you'll end up in my blog as "The Butterfly Man". But I had several conversations with Ray during the race as we leapfrogged each other. Turns out Ray has not only had a lifelong interest in butterflies, but more recently has developed an interest in tree farming.

We talked about trees from our respective parts of the country, the Southwest and Pacific Northwest. Ray has a tree farm on Vashon Island in Washington, on family property. You never know what conversations you might have with other runners in these events. Meeting Ray was one of the highlights of my race, because it's always fun to talk about mutual interests and things you would never imagine talking about during a 100 mile race.



It was a great day. The weekend before the race it had been 100 degrees in Hot Springs, the day before the race it was 101 degrees, and on race day we had cloud cover for the first two hours and the temperature never got much above 90 degrees even on the hottest part of the course. It rained in the evening and cooled things down.

The only glitch I noticed in the whole race was in the morning, 10 miles in, at the Morph aid station. About a dozen of us showed up there at the same time. No crews are allowed on the first 16 mile stretch which includes the Argyle Road. It was already getting hot and the aid station had no ice, which was concerning. All they had was warm powerade and warm water. They were out of water in their coolers and were refilling them as we all stood there. They seemed a little unprepared.

Other than that the aid stations were great, the volunteers were helpful and enthusiastic throughout the course.

I started out with a plan: I wanted to see if I could finish under 26 hours by pacing myself to go to halfway in 12 hours. I got to 25 miles in 5:52 and 50 miles in 12:05. Might have been a little too fast given the heat of the day. If it was a good day, and all went well, I know I could have done 26 or better. It was a little hotter than I anticipated, but I could have avoided some of the suffering by planning a little better.

The lessons will be repeated until they are learned. It was warm, and I didn't cover myself from the sun with my jacket during the heat of the day, which might have contributed to my lack of appetite. I did wear tons of ice on my neck and my hat and sunscreen, but the clouds make you think it's not as sunny and hot as it really is. I ate two sandwiches in the morning but all afternoon I struggled with taking in calories, it was just too hot to be interested in food. As a result, I was playing catch up with my blood sugar for most of the second half of the race.

My hydration was perfect, I did my usual ice topped with gatorade and a salt stick capsule in each bottle until night time when I started getting sodium from the chicken broth in the soup at the aid stations.


The one thing different about this race was that I never slept. Usually I take a nap, but I never reached that weaving, inefficient place where I am dead on my feet. I was drinking Starbucks frappucino and double shot drinks from about mile 50 on for my main source of calories. Liquid was the only thing I could deal with in the second half. I ate a lot of shot blocks too.




Around halfway I had grabbed a baggie full of cantaloupe and strawberries from my cooler and then picked up a banana at the aid station. After eating all that fruit I felt nauseated from about mile 50 to 60. It eventually passed but I couldn't deal with solid food anymore.

The middle section of the course was beautiful, between Custer and Hill City. Also there was a view from the trail of the Crazy Horse memorial.


One thing I noticed during the heat of the day were the signs warning of rattlesnakes along the side of the trail. I also saw a "Danger Buffalo" sign. I thought of this on the way back in, in the evening because it would be warm, but the rain kept the critters away.





During the night I saw the horse poop, a few times there were stepped-on road apples that looked like tarantulas, and the crickets in the grass sounded like rattlesnakes. But I swear I wasn't hallucinating.

I completely enjoyed the course, especially the part at night, going down the trail in the darkness, only with moonlight and stars in between the dark spaces of clouds, the big black shadows of ponderosa pines, smelling the trees and rain, seeing the moonlit meadows and beaver ponds, and listening to trance music on my MP3 player as I powerwalked the Mickelson trail.

I think it was nirvana, or heaven, or something, from about mile 55 through 75 in the darkness. I didn't use my lights hardly at all, and I reached that place that is why I do ultras. That feeling of being out there under the stars, moving forward, with music, like a dance. It doesn't get any better than that.

I did try sleeping at mile 80 at the Lime Kiln road aid station, but after climbing in the back of Doug and Marji's Ford Explorer, five minutes passed and I realized I wasn't going to sleep, so I got up and went on.

It did rain off and on at night but only enough to cool things down, never enough to get soaked or have to put on heavy rain gear. It also cut down on the dust on the Argyle Road the next morning.

What I didn't count on was the impact the Argyle Road would have on my pavement trained, dirt and rock-naive feet. I've been training almost exclusively on pavement for the past year, since my sprained ankle mishap last August. I did do a few Rock Repeat runs on the dirt road, which helped for the hills. My muscles and joints felt good and I am not sore anywhere except for my feet.

Since Doug wasn't pacing Holley as we planned, I asked him if he'd like to pace me down the Argyle Road starting at mile 83. It was a good thing because my feet started hurting around mile 80 and once we made the transition from the soft Mickelson Trail surface to the gravelly, hard-packed dirt of the Argyle Road, it was excruciating.

Every time we made the transition from going uphill to downhill and then back up again, cresting a hill and bottoming out on the endless repetitive hills of that road, the muscles and tendons on the front of my lower shins, and the surface of my feet, were screaming. The pain only compared with my foot pain at Badwater.

The bottoms of my feet felt like I jumped up and down with my full body weight, plus a couple of 50 pound dumbbells, on top of spikes for 28 hours. Every step was painful, and I wasn't the only one suffering. I had gaiters and my shoes stayed gravel-free, enough that I never had to take off my shoes.

Going down the Argyle road in the morning, there were several runners who were having to dump out their shoes and then deal with the nearly impossible task of getting them back on, and getting started again. I tried not to stop at all once we hit the Argyle Road.

At the Morph aid station at 90 miles I saw Fuzz. His eyes were wide open and he was drinking a beer! He offered it to me, but I said no. Soon he came flying by me and finished about an hour ahead of me.















It warmed up in the morning, but I was hurting too much to notice the heat. I couldn't manage running very well even when I reached the finish line. I could not wait to get off my feet.




By the end I had a huge blood blister on my left heel, a smaller one on my left big toe, a few little friction blisters on top of my toes, heat rash, and a hugely swollen left ankle. I had taped my right foot because of my peroneal tendon which has been bothering me, and my right foot looked 1000 percent better than my left foot. I should have taped both feet.

I am also going to lose 4 toenails. Less weight to carry.

Doug and Marji were a fantastic crew, and I was so glad they were out there. We sat there at a table in the post-race party, and Fuzz joined us, there was more leftover food from the pre-race dinner. Even as hungry as I was, I couldn't stomach the two day old bratwurst they were serving. I got some fruit and my belt buckle, said goodbye to people, and went back to the room to put my feet up while Doug and Marji unloaded my stuff into my car.




I got my training run for Across the Years. I plan to take it easy in September and then hit it hard again throughout the fall into Across the Years. As much as my feet hurt from Lean Horse, I imagine I'll be back, it's too convenient and close to home to not run this race.

Sunday I took a long nap in the afternoon. After that I went for a short drive around sunset to Wind Cave National Park and the wildlife are amazing. I saw buffalo, antelope, deer, elk, wild turkeys, and beautiful views of the Black Hills.













Monday morning I drove home to Fort Collins, and now I can start paying back the sleep bank and resting my feet before I go back to work Wednesday!