Last weekend we went up to the cabin and took the girls hiking in the old bristlecone pine forest on Mt. Silverheels. The weather was perfect, almost too warm for being up that high, but there was water in the creek and the spring was flowing so the girls had plenty to drink and opportunities to swim.
Running 270 miles across Death Valley and back in July and other ultra adventures
Scatter my ashes here...
scatter my ashes in the desert...
Monday, August 24, 2009
Bristlecones and Buffaloes
Last weekend we went up to the cabin and took the girls hiking in the old bristlecone pine forest on Mt. Silverheels. The weather was perfect, almost too warm for being up that high, but there was water in the creek and the spring was flowing so the girls had plenty to drink and opportunities to swim.
Gratitude
Last weekend we went up to Trout Creek Pass to check on things. Our neighbors up there have been trying to get in touch with us about this, which happened earlier this year while we were gone. Call it a miracle, call it what you will, but we were so lucky.
This past week there have been many other things to be thankful for. I sprained my ankle a week ago Saturday and I stayed off of it and iced it, and I am now running again. I was able to run after just 5 days off. Last Thursday, my first run after my ankle sprain, I got to run with my old running buddies Tom and Allison. I finally had a Thursday night off when I didn't have to work the next morning so I got to run with the Thursday night group, and it was so good to run with them again.
The other thing I am thankful for is that I ran the Mountain Avenue Mile on August 13th and even though my time was slow and I felt like a thundering herd of elephants running down the street carrying my 12 pounds of extra flesh I've acquired over the past year or so. I ran 6:42 which for me is very slow but I had fun and watched Dennis and Felix both run great races, both finished in about 5:10.
And then running-wise I am thankful that I was able to run 20 miles today, on my own, no walking whatsoever (not a step!) and did it without having to force myself out the door, without anyone else along to motivate me, and even though I was slow I kept a steady pace, didn't listen to music, and didn't ever once deteriorate into a death march or bad attitude.
I didn't realize but it's been well over a year since I had the motivation to do a long training run on my own. I am actually looking forward to that 50K run in a few weeks on the Hopi reservation.
Today, I am thankful for not feeling burned out on running.
Two Mornings
I'm very excited about these new Badwater images. More to come...
Monday, August 10, 2009
A Towanda!!!! Moment
My friend Woofie has a great online ultrarunning list where topics relevant to ultras are discussed. Occasionally we stray off of pure ultrarunning, but there's always some relevance. Today Woofie posted his "seasonal rant" and was talking about bike safety and using lights when riding a bicycle in the dark. I had an experience this morning when I was running that seemed to fit right in with safety so I posted this rant in response to his. Here it is:
Speaking of safety, and not intending to diminish the impact of Woofie's rant, I had an encounter on the bike path this morning here in Fort Collins when I was running. There is a 20+ mile bike path around the city that passes through wooded areas, wetlands, winds along the Poudre River, gives great views of the Rockies, and is fairly safe for running and cycling. There are a few areas where I use extra caution about being aware of my surroundings, there are lots of big, leafy trees and dark little coves off the side of the bike path and I do occasionally see unsavory characters wandering around and the brush grows thick this time of year.
It's the kind of place you feel comfortable running through alone during the day, but after dark there's no way I'd be out there by myself.
Excuse this story but I need to vent my premenopausal hormonally-induced rage. I just feel the need to share my TOWANDA!!!! moment.
This morning on my run I was coming through one area near an overpass which has a dark tunnel through it and perches where I've seen homeless people hang out, there's lots of shelter in the weeds nearby, and it's far enough away from any city streets that you would have to do quite a sprint to get away safely.
When I'm on my bike, I give the "On your left" warning. Today I was moving slower than on the bike and these two women, probably in their 20s or 30s were wandering along the bike path, wearing those popular fashionable clothes that involve low rider pants with most of their (ahem...clearing my throat here, hope I don't offend anyone) BIG WHITE BUTTS hanging out with their little flip flops on, high cut tops that show off TMI, and totally, completely unaware of me coming up at a 10 minute mile pace behind them for the longest time. I could see them, one of them had their cell phone up to her ear, and they never once looked behind them, around them, just oblivious and clueless.
So I did the same thing as Woofie. I got right up behind them and very loudly yelled, "ON YOUR LEFT!" startling the crap out of both of them. (I won't even describe the bouncing ripples in the exposed flesh) I have been unusually bitchy lately too. Call it hormones. I was on a rampage. I don't know why but it pissed me off that they were so clueless. I got a few steps past them and I heard one say something in a not so nice voice about scaring them.
I turned around and yelled back something to the effect of "If you have no clue about what's going on around you, you should be glad I scared you."
What I WISH I had said was "If you're out here on the bike path with your clueless ass hanging out talking on the cell phone, you're a #$%^& idiot!"
I don't know why this pissed me off so bad today but it irritates me when people have no clue what's going on around them. They are a danger to themselves and a danger to everyone else who uses the bike path. And then the cell phone thing really irritates me. And even though these girls were not so young that they could be my kid, I will be so glad when the slut fashion goes away. There are enough cracks in the concrete bike path, I didn't need to see any more...
End of rant.
Friday, August 7, 2009
G.B. Strikes Again
Back in the days when I used to run the Leadville Trail 100 in the summers, my training partners Snakebite, Alan and Wally had a name for me: G.B.
That's short for Gooney Bird. I got the name because I am terrible at altitude, and whenever we used to train by climbing 14ers or running trails way up high like Mosquito Pass above 13,000 feet, I would get silly. I could not think, I would giggle at everything and I certainly couldn't be relied on to find my way back down. I was stupid until I got down to maybe 11,000 feet.
I finished Leadville four times and never felt good, the altitude always got me and I'd always be competing for DFL. Now I've wised up and realized I do better at lower elevations.
Like, below sea level!!!
Training for Leadville, one of my weekly runs was to drive to the Longs Peak trailhead, run up to the Boulderfield and back down, and sometimes I'd do it twice. It usually took me less than 3 hours to do it once, maybe an hour and a half to reach the turnaround by the old "privy" sign. I could do two repeats in 6 hours.
On Monday I had a half-assed plan to go climb Longs Peak. First I tried to get Katy and Felix to go with me, but being a Monday, Katy has a real job and she was tempted but couldn't ditch work. I saw Felix at the running club picnic on Sunday and he told me he climbed Mt. Bierstadt on Saturday and had his own work to catch up on.
So I decided to go alone, and when I woke up, not by forcing myself to get up early, and if the conditions were right, I'd do it. I woke up a little late, managed to get out of the house by 6:15 and drive to Estes Park. I got to the trailhead at 7:30. The sky was clear and it was warm and windy. I kept thinking I'd get cold, I had a pack full of clothes and food and water, but I didn't feel cold except for my hands once I got up above treeline.
I felt lightheaded from the start, but not too bad. I walked at a fast pace but not pushing it hard. Once I got up to the turnoff to Chasm Lake I could feel how spaced out I was. Very strange. I haven't been up at altitude much at all this year, only once, really, climbing up to about 11,000 feet once is all, and that was back in June.
I made it to the Boulderfield in 2 hours and I was really lightheaded. I think that's at about 12,000 feet. I kept going, but it took me nearly an hour to get from the end of the switchbacks at the lower end of the Boulderfield to the point where you pass the rock tent shelters and start climbing up toward the Keyhole. I was having a hard time with my brain, I was unable to pick my way through the rocks. For some reason I would lose the trail, stop and stare blankly at the rocks, trying to pick a route, but my brain couldn't focus on it.
I sat down for a while and ate and drank, put some warm clothes on even though I wasn't cold, and took a little break. When I stood up I nearly fell over. There I was in my little running shoes among huge boulders with Alene-size cracks between the rocks. I sat down again and thought about it. I was just barely at 13,000 feet. It had taken me an hour to go what used to take me ten minutes. And just looking uphill toward the Keyhole, only a few hundred feet above me, I felt my head floating.
It was all boulders, I felt like it was more than I could handle mentally. I didn't feel tired, I just felt spaced out! I knew that it was only another mile and a half and 1200 feet of climbing, but my brain wasn't working. So I called it good and slowly picked my way back toward the low end of the Boulderfield and hiked back down and called it a day. I think if it had been earlier in the day I might have attempted it, but I was moving so slowly, I had no idea what I'd be like after a few more hours of hypoxia.
On the way down it did cloud up and rained on me for a while. No big thunderstorms or hail. I ended up with roughly 13 mile hike with about 3500 feet of climbing and descending. But it took me 6 hours to do what used to take me 3! I did enjoy the scenery on the way down.
And I did find out that my alter ego, Gooney Bird, is still with me.
This week I was also more tired than usual. For some reason I have been feeling unusually fatigued. I didn't sleep well in the middle of the week, when I was working, and it was busy at work.
So today I went to the lab vampires and got some tubes of blood siphoned from my veins. It was time to check the thyroid again anyway. I also got a lipid panel and other stuff for my annual physical which is coming up. Now that they took half my blood away, I won't even have to go up to high altitude to be G.B.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Double Vision: Badwater 2009
This year I worked as a medical volunteer at Badwater instead of running the race. Last December at Across the Years I talked with Lisa Bliss about doing this while we ran laps around Nardini Manor. I'd met Lisa the year before at Across the Years, before I sent in my application to run it in 2008. She's the medical director of Badwater, a physiatrist (M.D.), not to mention an extremely talented runner and an all-around genuinely nice person. I figured with my nursing skills I might be able to help the runners, and Lisa welcomed me on the team.
There is no better place to be in the middle of July.
It was strange being on the other side from where I was last year. All the fuss and high energy and stress that revolves around being the racer, checking in, having your crew pampering you like bridesmaids, all of those feelings came back from last year. I was glad to be stress-free.
During check-in I was the "splitter", sending runners one way to get their mugshots taken, and directing the crews the other way to go shopping for shirts and race paraphernalia from the Zombies. I felt like half traffic cop, half social butterfly. It was very fun greeting everyone.
When Pam Reed's crew checked in, one of her crew members looked familiar, and then listening to his voice, I knew him from somewhere. Then I put the pieces together. Pam is from Tucson, and Rob, her crew member, is someone I went to college with, for a couple of years, at NAU. He eventually transferred to U of A but was roommates with the guy who lived next door to my friend (and ultrarunner) Kirk Apt. I haven't seen Rob in over 25 years. He is now running ultras too. Pretty cool.
After all the socializing it was time for our race staff meeting, and then the pre-race briefing, where Chris (Kostman, the race director) introduces everyone and talks about rules and other business. Lisa talked to the group about medical concerns. Right afterwards we had our medical team meeting over dinner at the restaurant in Furnace Creek. It took forever to get our food, with the big crowd of race people, but it was a chance to get to know everyone.
There were 10 of us. It was a big group, Lisa and Tim from Washington, Kim and Jeff from Pennsylvania, me, George, Dave, and Steve, all paramedics from different parts of California, and Woofie from Arizona. Woofie is one of my old running partners from Scottsdale. And Mary, who is also a physiatrist, from Pennsylvania, who was to chauffeur Chris on the course and stay at the finish line with him to provide medical support there for the last day and a half of the event as the runners finished.
What a nice bunch of people, and we worked well together as a team.
The night before the race started we all got together, went through the equipment and made our plans. Most of the medical team would go down to the start and weigh the runners in at each of the three starting waves. Steve and I stayed in Furnace Creek and got the medical room organized and got our supplies divided up for the boxes we would need later when most of the team would be in Stovepipe Wells and the others would go ahead to Lone Pine for the faster runners. We ended up not having to treat anyone in Furnace Creek. It seemed like it was going to be a hot day but the high temperature in Furnace Creek on race day was only 122. Not so bad.
We moved on to Stovepipe Wells. While I was driving toward Stovepipe, I stopped a few times to check on runners who didn't look good, or people we'd heard about that we were concerned about. Everything was pretty good, but a few were starting to suffer, which is always the case in that long hot stretch in the afternoon.Once we got set up at Stovepipe Wells the runners started to come in, first slowly, then we got full. We had 6 cots set up and they were full for most of the evening! We were busy. Mostly dehydrated runners, who were down 8, 10, or more pounds. We'd give them oral fluids and electrolytes and they'd cool down for a while and then they'd get up and go back out. We had a small number of runners where we were concerned about hyponatremia, but we were able to fix them and they went on to finish.
There were a couple of more serious issues, one of which was a crew member, where we did end up contacting EMS, and one runner late in the race who went to the emergency room in Lone Pine. But everyone turned out okay in the end. And there was one runner in Stovepipe Wells who wasn't able to keep oral fluids down and eventually ended up agreeing to IV fluids, so he ended up as a DNF.
The runners would come in, we'd weigh them, ask them how long it had been since they peed, ask questions about drinking and eating, and we'd give them fluids and electrolytes if they needed it, and we'd hold them until they were able to keep fluids down, eat, and pee, give us a clear enough urine sample, gain a few pounds, and felt ready to go back out on the course. Occasionally I'd have to keep them moving along, sometimes they'd get too comfortable. And then there were a few runners and crew members who seemed to think the medical area was a recovery room, or a cooldown station, even though their runner wasn't in distress. Then I'd have to be traffic cop again.
Eventually the pee cups started to look more like a tasting selection at a brewery. Interesting colors, from dark amber to light wheat. We had a few colors outside of the beer spectrum, too.
The first night I got 4 hours of sleep. We had a few rooms at Stovepipe and we slept in shifts. I slept until 4 am and then woke up to drive to Lone Pine. I left in the darkness and there were very few runners left on the stretch going up Townes Pass, and the sunrise was spectacular. It lasted all the way until I got to Darwin. I did have to make a stop in Panamint Springs at the store to get coffee, and I wasn't to sure of what might be brewing in their coffee pots, so I opted for two pre-packaged Starbucks drinks from the cooler. $4.00 each, but I needed caffeine bad, so it was worth it. I thanked the guy at the register for putting up with us, since they had the store open all night just for the race. He said, "Everyone has been so nice this year!"
I passed the front runners on their way into Lone Pine and most everyone looked great all the way in. I saw Jamie Donaldson who won it for the women last year and this year. She gave me the thumbs up. She was a good hour ahead of Pam, the 2nd place woman.Not long after I got to the Dow Villa in Lone Pine, where race headquarters is, the Brazilian runner won the race, and they radioed from the finish line that they were sending him down to us. He only spoke Portugese but I managed to communicate with him using Spanish. Note to self: Learn some Portugese before next summer. At least the basics, like drink, pee, eat, etc. Turned out he was fine, just a little dehydrated.
There was an extra challenge for the mid-pack runners. There was a fire in the lower campground, just below where the finish line is, and the top 4 miles of the course were closed for several hours during the race. Chris had to come up with a creative solution to deal with this, so runners were given an option to finish at 131 miles, or to come back later when the course was open and finish out the last 4 miles. Fortunately the fire was contained and the course was re-opened later so many of the later finishers were able to do the full course.
I learned a lot about the effects of heat stress on the body, how to treat dehydration, what to look for if you are not sure if a runner is hyponatremic or dehydrated, or both...I had a great time, met so many nice people, and got to hang out with so many of the people I already know from ultras.Badwater has become another family for me and it's hard to imagine being away from it. Chris was so generous and appreciative of our efforts, he has turned this event into something that I think everyone on the staff and involved in the race was proud to be a part of.
Stovepipe Wells was the busiest spot for medical, as expected, it's at the end of the hottest part of the day. In Lone Pine it's been cooler and everyone has worked out their issues, and if they had bad problems they usually dropped out by then. There was a lot of foot care on the last day in Lone Pine, but not too many runners needing medical treatment. Mostly routine stuff. But some of the strangest requests came at the end of the race.
A crew member came in, telling me his kid had not had a bowel movement for 2 days. I felt like telling him to go down the street and get a salad at McDonald's, it worked for me. But I told him to go get something over the counter at the drug store if drinking more water and eating fiber didn't work. Sorry dude, I only play Poopsmith when I'm getting paid...
Then another crew member brought his teenage daughter in, she was sick, probably with some kind of viral thing, with a fever and vomiting...or maybe just dehydration, but I am not a pediatrician either. If you're crazy enough to drag your child to an event like this at least take responsibility when they get sick.
Most runners and crews were well informed about heat illness and took good care of each other out there. It was only a small percentage of the runners we ever saw in the medical station. Running in those conditions can put even the best trained runner at risk but it seems like the crews and runners are mostly very knowledgeable and well-prepared.
The only thing that I thought was weird were the very small number of crew members who brought their runners in afterwards and told us the runner needed an IV, as if we were a recovery tent. That was not our job either, and it annoyed me that they were telling us what their runner needed when clearly they had no clue. They just needed to drink, eat, rest and sleep. Sure we could all feel better after a few liters of normal saline living in this dry climate but IV fluids are just a quick fix for what they really need to do, which is take care of themselves and let their bodies recover. People expect things to be fast and easy. There is nothing about this race that falls into either of those categories.
The post-race party happened Wednesday evening and it was fun to see everyone one last time. I got to spend some time talking with Nattu and his crew, including Bob from Florida. Nattu kicked butt this year, he ran 37 hours, in his 3rd Badwater. We miss him around Colorado, he's been in California all year.
We were all exhausted, so we all got sleep and then Thursday everyone took off for home or wherever they were headed, some to Lake Tahoe, Lisa and Tim to climb Whitney, and I headed back into the valley to take pictures. I first dropped off the sharps containers at Ben and Denise's house so Ben could dispose of them for us. Being the coroner, he has the connections! Then I left to drive back across the course, in the heat of the day.
I wanted to catch both sunset and sunrise on Thursday night and Friday, and it was worth it, I got nearly 1300 pictures and probably 300 good ones. I spent the afternoon at the pool in Furnace Creek and then went out at sunset toward Badwater. The next morning I woke up at 4:30 and got out again to take more pictures along Artist's Drive. Then I drove back to the Las Vegas airport.

When I go back to run Badwater again, I hope it will be to do a double. I want to go back and run Badwater again in 2011, but I'm not sure if I'll actually do the double so soon. If I don't do a double then, I'm making it my age 50 goal.
When I was 40 and was just starting to get my health and energy back after getting my thyroid problems straightened out, I made a promise to myself that I would be fitter and healthier at 50 than I was at 40.
I know what you're thinking. I didn't say anything about being crazier.

There is something about turning around and going back across Death Valley after the race itself. For me, it's like closure. I can't just leave it with my back turned, I have to go back and see it in reverse.

Last year I can remember the morning Ken and I were driving back home, we left Lone Pine and drove back over the course and saw the few runners who were out there doing a double, and I wanted to be out there. I didn't want it to end at the finish line at Whitney Portal. I need to turn around and go back.

The colors in the rocks, the plants, and even the man-made objects in the landscape make you feel like you're on another planet. I know my running friends, even the ones I've known for many years and who share my love of running, don't understand why I love running in Death Valley in the summer. They don't understand how I can want to run, much less enjoy a race that covers 135 miles on asphalt. But they don't understand that this is the most beautiful, colorful, vibrant asphalt in the WORLD!
When I'm there, I have lost interest in how fast I run, where I finish in the pack, and in putting the race behind me as fast as possible. Running here is not an event to be put behind you. The elements are not separate from you, you are part of the surroundings. You become part of the landscape, the wind, the heat, the road, and the colors while you're moving through it. And there is nothing else like it.
This is why I want to go back. I want to see more sunrises like this, and as the day goes on, the relentless sun, the hot wind, the intense colors, the dramatic landscape that dwarfs you, while at the same time you belong to it. You become part of the whole picture. There is no other way to describe it, except to experience it.
Photos (from top): The temperature on the odometer on my rental car, Badwater sign near Golden Canyon, Artist's Drive, Badwater pools, the medical room at the Dow Villa in Lone Pine, George and Kim working on a runner's feet, runners along the course headed toward Lone Pine, the Dow Villa sign that changes colors throughout the day, celebrating the finish with a "Badwater ale", bottom of Artist's Drive, sunset over Furnace Creek looking toward Stovepipe Wells, road looking back toward Badwater, 3 photos of rocks along Artist's Drive, Panamint Dry Lake Bed at halfway along Badwater course, outrageous red rocks going up Father Crowley's, view from Father Crowley's at sunrise, near Darwin with lone Joshua tree in background, colors around salt pan around 5 miles into the course, gold rocks near Artist's Drive, more gold rocks looking back toward Badwater, sunrise over Stovepipe Wells from the road up Townes Pass, Alene at the park entrance.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)