My tiny friends have nothing on me and I'll prove it. A race report.

SOOO, I was sitting on the toilet this morning (you're welcome for that visual) and it occured to me that, well, my feet were just too pretty. I have all my toenails.

Time for another marathon.

If you read this all the way through, there's a bonus at the end: I will scientifically prove why I am more of a studette than my tiny friends who finished this crazy marathon long before I did.

From left to right: Me, Sweet Baboo, DP, Mo, Bones, and Wiz.

So.

The "Run the Caldera" marathon at Valles Caldera wildlife preserve is an evil, evil course. Well-supported, of course. Friendly people. Well-marked. But still. E. VIL.

There was aid stations were every 3 miles like clockwork, and had HEED, pretzles, chips, and water and cookies.

At 7:30 am I, in my cute new haircut, and new bra from Moving Comfort took off running. The beginning altitude was 8400 feet. I ran for a

ways, and then started my very slow, patented run the flats and downhills, and walk the uphills. Of course, after mile 3, you start going uphill...and uphill...and uphill...until you peak out at 10,000 feet.

It occurs to me that races like this are born after the jeep has thrown a connector rod trying to get up the hill. While walking back down in search of help, one must think, "this would make a good marathon course."

It was a apparently very, very pretty says the one I live with who is fast enough to look around everyone once in a while.

Mile (about 6) OMG, what is that smell? elk manure? broken sewer lines, GAWD, what is that smell? I finally figured out that it was natural springs and sulphur. Yay. Imagine, if you will, beginning what you know to be a 2000 foot climb, with the first mile of the climb smelling like farts.

UP, up, up...Never was I so happy at the moment I reached the 10K mark, because I believed, knew, that my climbing was over. Except that I had been warned that there was a "bit of a climb" in at mile 19. Um, yeah.

So, the downhill was pretty doable, except for large parts where the road was a bit uneven and had angular cobbles and boulders on it. I had to follow the rule of "head up, eyes down" so probably missed a lot of cool scenery. I did see a lot of rocks, though. Cool rocks. I gave in and picked up a piece of obsidian as a souvenire, but left everything else because as much of a rock hound as I am, I did not have the time.

Then it was mostly flat for a while, couple of small rollers, but then mile 20 was where the bit of a climb was.

it sucked the life and joy right out of me. The temperature was in the 70s, and the sun was shining brightly, and was still up at 9000 feet.

I made little deals with myself, climbing from shady spot to another, until cresting, starting downhill....to get to ANOTHER climb at mile 23!! WTF???

I swore openly, and loudly, but since I was 4th from last and nobody was around to hear me. I made it up the hill and over, but it took the last of what I had. There was not much running going on after that. At best, there was a slow, shuffle-jog and walking.

Sweet Baboo walked about a mile out and went in with me. (I know: AWWWWWWW.) Once thing that kept me going was the big LIE that everyone told me about cold trough full of water to put my legs in. There was no cold trough of water, and the camp was a ghost town when I finished. I thought of nothing but that cold water all the way from mile 21. Fuckers.

We headed back to Albuquerque, and bought pizzas at Dions, and then I got the idea to sit in the waterfall of the new pond that Baboo just build, and dangle my legs in the coooolld water. Ahhhhh.

My goal time: 7:30. My actual finish time: 7:15. Baboo finished in 5:22.

Now. I promised a science bonus that you can use to prove that you are a better, stronger athlete than your tiny friends, and here it is: This is the equation for "work," which is a specific term in physics that is MASS x DISTANCE (or HEIGHT x GRAVITY) = WORK.

Now, for me and my slender, fit friends we can assume for purposes of this race that altitude, gravity, distance were constants and just focus on mass (weight). I weigh 175 pounds, or 79 kg. Dread Pirate weighs about 61 kg (135 lbs) at most. Bones weighs about 70 kg, I think, and I'm betting Mo weighs around 59 kg at most. AT MOST.

What matters here is not speed, because all that means is that they spent less time on the course. What matters is total WORK done. So. I hauled 175 pounds over 26.2 miles, more weight than my tiny bird-like friends hauled. Therefore, I did more work.

They may be faster, but I win; I'm a studette. SUCK IT.

You can just file that away in your "favorite excuses for big athletes" by your Aunt Misty. (I have to mention that Mo took first in her age group, so grudgingly, I'll admit that she is faster than me. But I'll still the bigger studette.)

Of course Sweet Baboo hauled 220 pounds over the same distance, so he's still a super stud.

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