Badwater 2010

Badwater 2010 was a memorable, smooth race for the runners and the medical team.

The highlight of the race for me was seeing Jack Denness reach his goal of finishing Badwater at age 75. Jamie Donaldson from Denver broke her own womens' course record by about 35 minutes, the men's winner was Zach Gingerich, who placed high last year. Seeing Jorge Pacheco, Oswaldo Lopez, and Marcos Farinazzi, all contenders for the men's title, gutting it out through the race even though their races didn't go as planned, they all finished in admirable performances.





We treated a few runners for dehydration and a few other concerns but nothing serious, no serious hyponatremia, no IVs were necessary, and we almost didn't have to use the I-Stat. There was drama, as usual, with some of the crews and runners, but it was very calm the whole way through. We were mostly sitting around waiting. We went up to the finish line, went out on the course, and everyone looked good. There were only 7 DNFs out of a field of 80 starters.



I started my week off by going to Phoenix first, and visiting my dad and stepmom. The next day I flew to Las Vegas, spent the night there and got my supplies at Wal Mart the next morning, then took off for Furnace Creek. When I arrived in Furnace Creek it was 120 degrees.































At the pre-race briefing Lisa got inducted into the Badwater Hall of Fame for her contributions to the race as medical director and her two great performances there including her win in 2007.

After the pre-race briefing we had our dinner and medical team meeting and then went through the supplies.










































John Vonhof along with Denise Jones and Jacquie Florine provided foot care for the runners. John's book, Fixing Your Feet, will be in it's fifth edition later this year.

Lisa and Tim went to the 6 am start, then Kim, Jeff, and I went down for the 8:00 start and weighed the runners in, then we watched the start and some of us went back to Furnace Creek while the others stayed through the 10:00 start.



















































We waited around Furnace Creek with no business until it was time to close up shop and go to Stovepipe Wells with all the medical equipment. It was Tim's birthday so Lisa ordered something that he had to share with the rest of us.












Paul Grimm, and Dale Perry, his crew member, both from Colorado.












In Stovepipe Wells last year it was busy. This year we had maybe a half dozen runners who neded oral replacement salts and fluid and they got up and went back on the course. Mark and I drove up Towne Pass around sunset to checek on runners. Most looked amazingly good even with the hot headwind they were fighting, going uphill.






















This year I went ahead earlier to Lone Pine. Most of the runners were moving very well and it looked like it was going to be more of a pack coming in instead of being spread far apart. I got some sleep that night and in the morning we watched the front runners come through town. Jamie came through and she was flying. She looked great.





















Early in the afternoon Megan and I went up to the finish line to hang out there for the rest of the afternoon. It was fun watching the finishers. We really didn't have any medical issues at the finish line either. Tim and Mark relieved us around 8 pm and then Dave went up there to spend the night.










































There was very little medical business in Lone Pine that night, Sally was in the medical room and she got to sleep, too, and Megan and I got some decent sleep.

Really the most interesting thing that happened had something to do with this:












Wednesday morning most of us went for a run. I got an hour and a half run in, in the Alabama Hills above Lone Pine. I had a great view of Whitney and the Owens Valley. Later we went through the medical supplies for next year, waited while the rest of the runners went through town, and we heard that Jack Denness was on target to finish.

We went to the post-race pizza party and we gave Jack two standing ovations when he enetered the school cafeteria where we had the party, and when Chris brought him up on stage for recognition with the other finishers.












Jack said something to the effect of, "75 is just a number". Art Webb had another sub-48 hour performance at age 68, too.






















We all said our good-byes on Wednesday evening, Tim and Lisa and Mark were going to climb Whitney, the rest of us were going separate ways. Megan is going to be the medical director starting next year. I told her I'd do it again in the future, but I really hope to be running the race in 2011.

Thursday morning I drove back through the valley to get to Las Vegas. The temperature hit 125 degrees. Coming home took forever, the flight was delayed in Vegas, then we waited on the ground forever, arrived in Denver late, baggage claim took forever, and then finally ot on the shuttle to parking, got my car, and then there was late night construction traffic on I-25 going north, going 10 mph near Berthoud.I was hungry, sleep deprived, and thought I would never get home. Finally I did.

My anxiety about starting my new job and being able to stick to my current running plans was relieved as soon as I got back. Today I got my schedule for the next month and it's awesome. Today I went out and got all new scrubs, new work shoes, and when I start my new job, I'm burning all of the old stuff. Actually donating it to Goodwill, but I like the idea of burning it. Maybe I will burn one thing, just to make it official, and it will feel great!

A Breath of Fresh Air!

This weekend was a celebration of many things. July 5th is Isabelle's birthday, it was Fourth of July and our first Fourth of July in Como since we got the cabin 6 years ago. We didn't know it before, but now we do, that we can watch the fireworks display close-up from our futon in the cabin, through the screen door. How cool is that?

But equally it was a celebration of my new job! I am leaving ICU within the next month to work in the oncology department, in outpatient infusion. It's something I've been wanting to do for quite some time and it couldn't have happened at a better time. I found out just before leaving the house to drive up to Como for the weekend.

Sometimes waiting for change is almost as stressful as the thing you're wanting to change.

While we were in Florida a job was posted in the oncology outpatient infusion clinic for relief hours only. Those are minimal hours and I would keep my ICU job until I could get the same number of hours as I have in ICU. With the relief job, I applied, got an interview, and then heard I got it, except that there might be some real jobs like what I wanted(not relief, but guaranteed hours), soon, and if I was interested I should apply.

And it was supposed to happen soon. How soon, I didn't know. So I went into the checking the job postings 6 times a day mode, checking my email, checking for voice messages, and generally being on hyper-alert and realizing just how ready I am for this change.

After 3 weeks of touch and go, knowing I have a job in the department I want but not the job I want, but the job I want will be available, maybe soon, and then waiting for the job to materialize on the job postings, so I can apply for it, then applying, and waiting to find out if I got it, and waiting...and waiting...and waiting...

All of which went really fast in retrospect but while I was waiting it seemed like

F-O-R-E-V-E-R.

Dennis told me there is a reason I'm having to wait, that it will be a good thing.

When I didn't hear by Friday of this week, I decided I needed to just leave town for the weekend according to my original plan, to run the Leadville marathon, hang out at the cabin, and not stress about it. I packed up the car, got the Buffaloes in the back seat, and was on my last trip back into the house before locking up and leaving, when I saw the message light on the phone. I thought it might be Dennis since we just got off the phone making plans for when he followed us up to the cabin later after work.

I checked the message and it was the manager of the oncology department asking me to call her.

I did.

It was the job offer!!!

I asked if there was anything I needed to do right away, but since we were going into a holiday weekend, we decided we would work on it next week and enjoy the holiday.

So I stuck to my plans, but there was an extra reason to celebrate!

Dennis arrived at the cabin in the middle of the night. I woke up at 4:45 am and had to drive to Leadville, over an hour away.

I arrived at the Sixth Street Gym by 7 am and picked up my race packet, ate my sandwich, drank a lot of water and gatorade, and packed my pack full of warm clothes. I talked with some people I hadn't seen in ages, since I rarely come up to Leadville anymore.

Finally it was time for the start. I was blown away when I saw that they were using timing chips for the event. I can't believe this little race that started in 1992 when there were a few dozen of us, now has hundreds of runners and chip timing!

I was in tourist mode. I had my butt pack that was bigger than my butt loaded with warm clothes, food, camera, batteries, and drinks. I might as well have brought my AAA card, a credit card and a toothbrush.

I took my time, I planned to get a lot of walking in and didn't care to push it. I got plenty of miles in the past two weeks and all I needed was the vertical. I was in pedestrian mode and I had told Dennis it might be 5:00 before I got back to the cabin, because the marathon might take me 7 hours or longer.

And it did. I socialized at the aid stations, talked to old friends, more people from Leadville I haven't seen in years, people from ultras I haven't seen in months. I ran most of the first half with Dale Perry, he will be at Badwater next week crewing for Paul Grimm. Dale got to the top just ahead of me and then he pushed a little faster than I did going back, so we didn't see each other again until the finish.



On the way back I caught up to the crazy dude with Ultimate Butt, the term we use for those old Ultimate Direction packs that ride up with your shorts, exposing your cheeks to everyone running behind you. I tried to avoid him, he was chattering about who knows what. I didn't want to get stuck with Mr. U.B. because he never would have shut up and he probably could keep up with me if I tried to run ahead. So I kept him in sight, but not close enough to see the details, and with enough cushion so he couldn't recognize me if he turned around.

And there was this woman who was behind me on the way up the pass and just ahead of me on the way down. I was trying to avoid her because of her annoying voice. One of those nails on chalkboard voices. She had to be all perky and cheer for every single person on their way down the pass as we were climbing up. Squeak, squeak, squeak. Driving me crazy.

About a mile from the top I wanted to turn around and yell back at her, if you would use your breath to climb the @#$%&*! pass, you'd be done in half the time! But I didn't. I got ahead of her enough so I couldn't hear her anymore, and I talked with Pat at the aid station on top of the pass for a long time even though I was freezing, and took pictures and gave Miss Perky Squeaky Voice plenty of time to get far ahead of me. Unfortunately I caught up to her soon after the aid station at the bottom.

I think I just needed to be alone and look at the scenery. I think I was emotionally fried. My work week was pretty miserable last week, and I was so excited and hopeful about the new job that it was stressful waiting. There's always the fear that you didn't get the job. What if.

As I found things getting on my nerves I stuck close to the back of the pack and strategically passed people only if I knew I could go past them fast enough to avoid getting in a conversation.

I could feel my toes jamming into the front of my shoes on the way down. The Leadville marathon is almost all straight up or straight down, there are only a few miles where the road is fairly level, in the middle section by the mines. I was wondering how many toenails I might lose after this one, now that I have ten again, they won't last long.

I always forget just how hard this marathon is. It takes way longer than it needs to, to do 26 miles. I could get the same vertical in my back yard on Horsetooth Rock, in a lot less time, just not the altitude. I'm to the point with Leadville where I think I'm over it. I spent so much time up there in the past. I still think it's beautiful up there but I feel like I could find new places to explore.

It's really a suffer fest at this point, since I don't train for cold and I don't train for high altitude anymore. Actually though since I was going so slow I felt surprisingly good even on top of Mosquito Pass. I had no problems with my stomach or my appetite. Usually I'm queasy above 12,000 feet. This time I was just lightheaded, probably would have sounded like a Gooney Bird except I wasn't being very sociable.

I did tell one older runner I was close to the whole race, that as you get older you forget how painful it was the year before. That's why we come back. This time it took me 3 years to forget. If I go back to run it again in less time than that, I'm in trouble.

I got back to the Sixth Street Gym seven hours and thirty three minutes, long, torturous, lost in thought, but scenic hours and minutes after the start. I thanked Ken and Merilee, said goodbye to Dale and Ron, and took off for Como before Dennis started worrying.

I stopped at the KOA in Buena Vista and got a shower for $8.00 from a pipe sticking out of the wall, but at least it was warm water. I forgot how everyone up there in those campgrounds, both the visitors and the workers, all sound like they're from Texas or Arkansas. It's been a long time since my days of doing forestry work in the summers, living in the back of my truck, and coming into town once a week for a shower.





On Sunday we took the girls for a hike on the ditch trail and then went back to the cabin. The town of Como swelled to several hundred people, there was a parade with a float, and live music, booths, nasty greasy-looking food wagons, and lots of large people walking around aimlessly, holding nasty greasy-looking things, dressed in red, white, and blue.

For a town of 20 permanent residents and maybe 100 in the summer, it was a big crowd. We waited all day for the fireworks, as the sun went down it got cold and windy. For while we thought it would either rain us out or it would be too windy to have fireworks, but there was a steady stream of headlights driving into town, hundreds of cars were arriving.



The fireworks started and Isabelle got scared. Poor thing, she was trembling. We had to talk to her and comfort her the whole time. Iris didn't seem to be bothered at all. We poured some beer in Isabelle's bowl hoping she might drink it and it would calm her down, but she was too scared. Iris drank it instead and then feel asleep, snoring on the futon.

Finally it was over. We watched the stream of red tailights proceeding out of town and along Highway 285. Monday morning when we woke up, town was dead quiet again. You would never know that a thousand people and their cars were there just a few hours ago.

It was cold and windy in the morning too. We left to drive back to Fort Collins late in the morning. As soon as I got home I wrote my letter of resignation, and I'm on my way to a big, welcome, healthy, much-needed change within the next few weeks.

A BIG breath of fresh air!

Summer

We thought it would never arrive but it's here.



The cotton is flying, I'm sneezing, and the grass needs mowing. The rock garden we started last fall is full of wildflowers and I'm waiting for all of them to bloom before I decide which ones I want to weed out.





The Buffaloes love summer. So many things to sniff, lick, and smile about.

















I have things to smile about too. Change is on the horizon. I can't say much because I don't know the details yet, but I'm very excited that some big exciting things are happening. I'm so happy, dancing in circles, smiling so wide I can barely keep the duct tape on my face.

Sometimes change is slower than we want but there's a good reason. I'm trying to be patient this week.

I went for a 30 mile run with Cat this morning. We ran down into Loveland, past downtown, and turned around. We got covered with bugs on the bike path section at Boyd Lake, but it was a nice morning and we felt good. We stuck maple seeds on our noses and caught up about her trip to Spain.

Last week I had a great running week. I did some rock repeats, got sore from that, since I haven't been doing much on hills because the Keys 100 was such a flat run. Now I have to gear up for the hills at Lean Horse and it means tougher runs. I did some pickups to get my leg turnover going again. So far this week has been good too.

I've been in the sauna, which has been repaired, now it's extra hot. When I first came back from the Keys it was not even warm in there. When it's extra hot I don't have to spend so much time in it and other people spend even less time there so I get more time to myself. I am headed to Death Valley in less than three weeks for Badwater as a medical volunteer again, and I hear it's been warm...119 degrees is what I've seen so far. I'm stopping in Phoenix for a couple of days before that to visit my dad and stepmom.

I spoke several times in the past few weeks about my running and raising funds and awareness of the need for cancer-related services in the community. We got a good turnout at the hospital where I work.

I need a new MP3 player. I don't like the design of ipods. I prefer my old AAA battery powered MP3 player, it's durable and easy to use. I have a 2 GB Creative Zen Nano from several years ago and it's worked well, but it's full to capacity and when my old laptop died, the software was not compatible with our newer laptop.

I found one that I like except the battery is rechargable. It's supposed to last 32 hours. The problem with that is I run longer than that and I don't always have access to electricity.

Solution: Get two of them, they're inexpensive and I can double up my tunes. It's 16 GB so I won't run out of space. I have almost my whole music collection on my current MP3.

The other problem is finding a way to clip the new MP3 on my clothing. My old Zen Nano has the perfect clip but the new one is a different size and doesn't come with a clip. Also, I am concerned about waterproofing and heat exposure with the new MP3. What if the battery doesn't work in 130 plus degree temperatures? My old MP3 worked fine in Death Valley. But will the new one work?

As I'm talking to the runners at Badwater this year I'll have to see what everyone is doing for their music. Then I'll invest in something that will carry me through Across the Years and, I'm hoping, next year's run at Badwater again!

DWF and NITM

Some days are just not meant to work out the way you plan them. Maybe I should have listened to myself. After last year I said I wasn't going to run the Estes Park Marathon this year. I needed a year off from it, run a race too many times and it can get old.

I might have jinxed myself too. A few weeks ago my friend Heidi who lives in Tucson wrote me after the Keys 100 and I told her humidity is my friend. 87 degrees and humid is one thing. I didn't mean humidity and 45 degrees.


The weather forecast for the weekend was looking dismal, which turned into abysmal. Dennis is out of town for the weekend. I couldn't fall asleep Saturday night and then woke up at 2 am, was awake for a while, then finally fell asleep sometime before the alarm woke me up Sunday morning at 4:00.

I hit the snooze for 5 minutes, and when it went off again, Iris rolled over against me, exposing her belly, and started making her big baby whining noise that she does sometimes in the morning when she's not getting enough attention. Isabelle pounced on me and licked my face. I was so groggy I could have fallen asleep again but I made myself get up.

Don't wanna!

The girls were not happy. I made coffee and went downstairs to check the weather forecast and looked out the window at the steady rain. Maybe if I was lucky it wouldn't be raining so hard in Estes Park. All I really cared about was that it wasn't going to become a raging flood down the canyon when I had to drive home afterwards.

The forecast was for thunderstorms all day long in Estes, high in the 40s. Fantastic. By the time I got ready to leave the house at 5 it was a steady mist. Not too cold, but 2000 feet higher might make a difference.











Driving up Big Thompson Canyon the water was so high that some of the front yards of the houses along the river were close to being flooded.

The rain was pounding down for the whole hour before the start, I sat in my car after I picked up my race packet and waited, trying to decide how much clothing to take.




The race packets had these foldable plastic cups that we were supposed to use in order to have a "green" event, no paper cups. It was called the Hydrapouch. You're supposed to fill your little cup at the aid station out of these special dispensers.

My first thought about aid stations is the nasty bugs that can be spread around by people not being conscientious about how they fill the mouthpiece on their water containers. It sort of grosses me out...

What if they have Epstein Barr? Or herpes? Or something else contagious?

When it came down to race time, I noticed how many of the hydrapouches I was seeing on the road. Were people just tossing them? Then I realized why- mine flopped off of my waist band twice within a mile. The clip that held it on the waistpack was flimsy.

By mile 2 I wasn't warmed up yet, and I was starting to worry that I didn't have enough warm layers on. I had my long sleeved shirt under my rain jacket, a hat, gloves, headband, and my medium weight drylete tights. My feet were soaked through by 1/2 mile from the puddles and runoff in every intersection.

My hands were freezing and I could barely pull the thing off my waistband and squeeze it open to fill it. I ended up with gatorade all up my sleeve, and I was already soaking wet and trying to stay warm. I think I let out a few expletives at the second aid station when I soaked my gloves that I had finally managed to pull over my frozen hands. The aid station volunteer told me that was the general consensus of the runners.

The Hydrapouch sucked.

Someone will come up with a better design. Not me. I like my trusty old inconvenient screw-top water bottle. I reserve the right to be a fossil, I've been doing this long enough.

The rain seemed like it was letting up around 5 miles but then by 9 miles it was a downpour again. I am too well-adapted to the heat, I guess. I was getting almost warm going up the hills, and freezing my butt off going down, even though I tried to run faster.

My hands were frozen the whole time and my rain jacket was soaked through, all the way to my skin. Time for a new rain jacket. I had tights and a headband on and my legs and ears were warm, but I was cold everywhere else.




I kept thinking I'd make a detour off the course and go to my car and get my marmot rain jacket, my big bulky winter outer layer, that was in the car. I knew I'd have to add about 2 miles in order to make that happen. No big deal, because I was only out for a training run, and it didn't matter how long it took me to finish. Except I was feeling crappy- I had a bad headache above my left eye and my nose was running. It felt like my sinuses and head were going to explode.

Finally around 10 miles, I stopped for a bathroom break and when I went back out in the downpour, I decided it was enough. I wanted to find the quickest way to the car, drop off my chip, and go home. I wanted to be with the Buffaloes and I didn't feel like running in the rain for another 3 or 4 hours, which was what it was going to take at that point. I was cold and soaking wet and I really didn't care if I stuck it out.

I asked one of the course marshalls near the bike path by Lake Estes what was the quickest way back to the high school. Sometimes it's not worth it. I could not care less, really. I was NITM, NOT IN THE MOOD and I didn't care if I DWFed, DON'T WANNA FINISH.


So I ran to the high school track, dropped off my timing chip, and drove back to Fort Collins in the driving rain. I could barely dig the key out of my pocket and open the car door lock, my hands were so numb. It took until I got to Loveland before I could feel my hands. I figure I got 12 miles of running in for the day. Not much of a long run, but at least it's something. I figured maybe if I got a nap I could go out for another 14 or so on the bike path and call it good.

I came home to big smiles and wiggles from the Buffaloes, and I heated up some soup, took a shower, and then was thinking about a nap. I went into the bedroom and started to climb between the sheets and SURPRISE!

Mud, gritty dirt, wet grass, wet pawprints, all over the bed. It looked like they had a party while I was gone. Like they dug under the covers and got it as muddy as they possibly could. Was it revenge?

I knew I should have stayed in bed this morning. Now I have extra laundry to do. And it's still raining. At least it's not snowing.