Mostly one-liners.

Dear Diary,

Yes, she is that spoiled.
No, I don't know why.

15. I spent most of my free computer time this week working - see #3 for explanation.

14. I think it's safe to say I don't much like being a parent these days.

13. But I do like being a runner. I am right back on track with my running again. After several months of not being terribly discipliined, I am finally back into the habit of making up missed miles and making sure thatt I get all my miles in.  Which brings me to today, when I ditched my run.  I now have 12 miles to make up, somehow.  :-/

12. #13 is important, because I put on five pounds last month.

11. WeightWatchers just updated their app for ipad. It rocks. They also have a kick-ass kitchen-helper app.

10. The running is keeping me from wrapping my hands around a certain surly twenty-something's neck and squeezing.

9. There are ants in my house that are particularly bad this year. It requires that I keep pet food put up. :-( and not leave anything sitting out too long.

8. This has been a tough week at work. Hug your kids.

7. I am also back on track with my eating. It was getting a llittle out of control. I was temped by stress to fall back into my old ways, in which I would buy a whole rotissere chicken and sit out on my car and eat it. (ugly, but true).

There is a dress code, you know.

6. Thursday evening, I drank cheap beer and and made "Chicken Helper". Now in my defense, it was whole grain chicken helper, to which I added lots of vegetables. The cheap beer I have no excuse for. It's interesting, though, that Bud Light is the only beer I can drink, being as I hate most beers and think they are a cold bitter mess. I've been told that Bud Light has no taste, which would explain why I can drink it. So there you have it: I have dental problems, eat chicken helper, and drink cheap beer. I am one step away from hanging up laundry wearing my bra and shorts and curlers.

5.  Stress has also made me not sleep well.  Today, instead of running, I slept in.  Later I will take Herself the Daughter to look at rent houses.

4. I have prepared a "move-out" box for Herself the Daughter that has TP (the cheap kind), laundry soap, and cup-a-noodle (Might as well get used to it now.  Life is WAYYY different outside mom's house, princess)

3. This next week I will be attending four full days of "New Employee Orientation" at the VA for my internship.

Ah, dinner by candlelight. 

2. I am beginning to feel, finally, like a mental health professional. So that's a new identity for me. I was a mother, then a teacher, and then a runner, and then I didn't know what I was for a while.

1. Work related: Here's a little tip from me.  If, in the process of knifing your boyfriend/dealer to death, you assign your mother POA for your kids, make sure she's not homeless.  (The lives some people lead.  Jeesh.)

...

The 6th (and final) running of the Ghost Town 38.5

Dear Diary,

Last year, I talked about how the town of Hillsboro, NM haaaaaates runners.  So, this year we stayed at the Lakeview RV park out by I25, which has KOA cabins that are just the funnest bit of nostalgia you can get for $25 a night.  Electricity, heat, A/C, bring your own linens.  They have great showers.  I recommend them highly.

Now, due to the town's outright hostility toward this race and some people who confronted Susan about various aspects of the race, there has amassed over the year a number of rules regarding ones conduct.  

Things one can do to get disqualified and/or banned:

• Have anyone you know or are related to run any part of the course on the day of the race.
• Complain about the course, race organization, or any part of the event, even jokingly, since these comments are sometimes reported.
• Run on the wrong side of the road.
• Run on the correct side of the road, but angle in toward the finish instead of making a right turn across the street from the finish line.



The Ghost Town 38.5 course map and profile.

• Make any comments to the RD or her husband about continuing the race.  

There's more, but you get the idea.  Things were getting tense.  So this year, Susan announced that this was the last year of the Ghost Town 38.5.  I wasn't planning on doing it this year, but since it was possibly the last year, EVAR, I decided to go do it.  

Last year my finishing time was 11:16.  This race has a special spot in Sweet Baboo's heart because it was his first ultra.  Less than 9 months after he ran his first 5k, he ran his first ultra.  Because he is - say it with me now - a freak.

I was pretty stoked about this race because of the weight loss and stuff, but also worried about my achilles.  In fact, I had been favoring that leg quite a bit, and when climbing, I had been leading with my other leg (my left) so much so that when it was clear that I didn't need to do that any more, I suffered.

Whatever muscles lift your leg for climbing steps had weakened a bit while I was favoring it, and so I wound up with a sharp pain right in the front where my right leg bends.  It started around mile 20 and by 30 it was almost unbearable.

But that wasn't the dumbest thing I did, oh, no.

I talked last month about having trouble coughing at Tucson, which I assumed was a cold, and it was, sorta.

But then at yesterday's run I had the same aching chest, but since this was a harder run, I got an extra bonus: breathlessness.

That alone would have not done me in, but for some reason campfires are very popular with race volunteers - woody, smoky ones - so that at one aid station, I had to change shoes from road to trail and while doing so, was completely enveloped in smoke.  A couple more instances like that, and I was done in.  My asthma was in full swing and it wasn't letting up.

I slowed down dramatically on the way back from the turnaround at mile 20-point-something, because I couldn't get on top of my breath.  I couldn't catch it, I just couldn't.

Ghost Town 38.5 elevation profile

Now around mile 28ish, right before the last long (2 mile) climb, I'd decided I was done.  This was it.  I just couldn't breathe.  I needed to get a ride and get hooked up to a nebulizer, stat.  I'd used the crap out of my inhaler, but it wasn't making a dent.  I came up on a guy named JJ and he asked how I was doing, and I mumbled something about how I was going to quit soon, and in the true tradition of ultrarunning and ultrarunners, he proceeded to distract me from this idea by having me power-walk with him, running the downhills.

JJ is in his 70s, retired, and hundred-milers are his hobby.  The Ghost Town 38.5 is his last long run before his taper for the Rocky Raccoon in three weeks.  I told him about my Achilles (which, by the way, had bothered me very minimally during this race, although it is a bit swollen) and he said, simply, "you need to stretch your hamstrings more...they're too tight".  Why didn't I think of that?  I mean, it makes sense.  My Achilles started acting up after doing two marathons and a half marathon in the same 90-day period, and I never did stretch after that.  A gentle Achilles' stretch, to be sure, but hamstrings - that also makes total sense.

I thanked JJ several times for hanging with me because by mile 34, I was so breathless ALL I could was powerwalk at that point.  He said, "oh, no problem, you're helping me meet my goal of finishing this and expending as little energy as possible," which is code for, your slow ass is helping me not have to work hard at all.

Sweet Baboo's Mobel sleeves.  Dragons.  Very butch.
I can't find a picture of the sleeves I got.  

Baboo's finishing time, by the way, was 6 hours and 40 minutes.  Yes.  He finished, drove back to the campground, showered, dried off, then came back to Hillsboro to hang out and watch me finish.  Leisurely.

The finishing prize was Moeben sleeves!!  When we finished, I went back to KOA and showered, and me and Sweet Baboo got foot-longs at Subway.

After we arrived back in ABQ, I hooked up my old nebulizer machine and then coughed up a lot of crap.  That's when it hit me: at both runs I had taken 12-hour pseudofed before going to sleep.  However its mechanism - and I don't promise to know anything about this shit; I can tell you have antidepressants work but not this stuff - it caused an enormous amount of congestion in my chest.  The fires and dust didn't help, but I could have tolerated them without an airpipe full of junk.

Anyway.  It's 4 am and I'm up eating a bean and cheese burrito and a glass of chocolate milk.  It's awesome.

Next up: Rocky Raccoon 50-miler, in three weeks.  Where, you may recall,

Alligators Exist.  

In the Park. 

I walked the entire race last time due to IT band syndrome.  This year, I'm planning to run most of it.  I've heard that's actually a bit faster. 

...

More fun in 2 days than most have in a lifetime.

Dear Diary,
WARNING: This entry involves people running long distances, heat, and missing course markings. 
There will be curse words. 
You have been warned.

========================================

I was at the Rio Del Lago 50k/100 mile race.  Baboo did the 100miler.  I did the 50k 'fun run'.   Stacey took pictures, which you can find here.  

Shit, I'm tired.  The car trip back to the back to the airport was about 10 miles of exhausted insanity such as I've never seen.  I drove, white-knuckled, back to the car rental place, only to find myself suddenly jerking awake as the car drifted toward the shoulder.  Crazy.  Next time I'm up all night: shuttle or taxi service.  SRSLY.

We rented this thing, the Ford Flex, which looks innocuous enough, but up close, it's totally Pimp.  They've added more idiot-proofing to cars than I could have ever dreamed.  I especially love the gentle beeping that warns, "There's someone behind you, stupid, so don't go backwards any more."

So, this was a fairly productive weekend.  Saturday morning, RBR and I headed out on a nice and easy 50K, which became less nice and decidedly less easy as the temperatures soared during the late morning.  At one point we headed back only to pass what were the last three people in the race.  We were so excited to find out that we weren't dead last that we did a little "We're not dead last" dance. 

It got hot.  Insanely hot.  Balls of sweltering heat followed me up every hill.  RBR was suffering, as she had blisters on top of blisters, but said very little about that.  She seemed to be right on my heels at all times, perky and happy, even when we nearly got lost.  Me, I bitched constantly about the heat. 

fuck, it's hot. 
i can't believe how hot it is. 
why is it so hot? 
this is messed up. 
I was told that it doesn't get hot until late afternoon here. 
California pisses me off. 
Paradise, shit. 
This place sucks.

"You know, don't forget, you did a marathon 5 days ago," RBR reminded me. 

Whatever. I'm supposed to be baddass, and I was being a total puss.  To add misery, the entire 50k was around a huge, beautiful Fulsom Lake.  As we slogged along up and down every dusty hill, I could see people standing up to their hips in the water, laughing and splashing each other.  Fuckers. 

Many course markings were gone because of either mountain bikers or horseback riders who took them down.  I estimate we did an extra mile or two trying to find our way, and that we spent 30 minutes walking around looking for which direction to go.  I would look down and think, there's footsteps going that way, so, what the hell.  We guessed right each time, eventually finding a course ribbon further on, but the last time it happened, we went off in several different directions before finally getting a course ribbon.  We were pissed, too.  It was about 3 miles from the finish. 

It took much longer than I expected, but we ran across the timing mat only to be told, uh, you two tied for 3rd place, women 40-49, so you each get a prize.  RBR was nice enough to have hers sent to her so that I could take mine home.  This after I provided her a 'meal' of half of a steamable bag of Birdeye rice and chicken and half of a Budget Gourmet macaroni and cheese, 'cause I'm all classy that way. 

==========================

So then, it was showers and eating and time to crew.  We headed out to Rattlesnake Bar (what IS the deal with all the 'bar's in Cali anyway?  I didn't see a single cocktail)  which is at mile 55ish. 

Then we waited....and waited....and waited.  It got dark.  Finally, someone came into the aid station calling my name. 

"I'm Misty!"  I waved my hand at her.

"Your runner wants you to go out on the trail and take him a headlamp,"  she told me.  I ran one out to Sweet Baboo, who told me calmly that he was done. 

"There's nothing left in my legs," he said.  I attempted to persuade him not to drop, and he waved at me dismissively.  Then, he put his hand on my shoulder and dropped his voice to its very serious, patient, let-me-explain-this-to-you Dr. Baboo tone: 

 "I know what you're trying to do, but I'm done," he said.  "Seriously, Misty.  There's nothing left.  Have you ever seen a 40-minute mile?  I have."

"Well, at least sit down for a while and eat your sandwitch," I said, reasonably. 

Part of me was all, Yay!  I get to sleep now! He's quitting!  Whoo hoo! 

But then the other, ethical part of me said, well, shit.  You know what you have to do, right?  You have to try to talk him out of this.  You're in charge of that.   

RBR ran to get a sleeping bag for his shoulders and a chair, and unbeknownst to me, she was running on ball-of-her-feet UGLAY blisters. Baboo ate his Subway.  He drank down 4 cups of gingerale.  I forced some SportLegs into him, and some Tylenol. 

At one point, with a volunteer standing near him, Baboo said to me, "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, doing this so soon after Leadville," as I was rubbing his legs.  The volunteer looked startled.

 "You did Leadville? This year?  Wasn't that 2 weeks ago?"

"No, don't be silly," I said.  "It was three weeks ago."

"And the marathon on Monday," RBR offered. 

Baboo laughed.  "How long have you been at this aid station," the volunteer asked.

"About two months," he said seriously.  Not long after that, he headed out back out onto the trail, and I followed him.  RBR took the car around to the next aid station. 

I tried to find an illustration that invoked the concept of a pacer, but all I got was this -> 

I paced Baboo from about his mile 55 until 63, and then I had to stop for a while because that was miles 32 to 40 for me, and my feet hurt and I was tired.  (Wah, wah). 

It was surreal, running through the dark on rocky trails in the middle of the night. Over the next few miles, it was a constant up and down stepping that was beating up Baboo's legs, and he was starting to get grumpy.   The next aid station was closing in 15 minutes.  We were passed, and then passed, Gordy Ansleigh and several others.  We made it to Twin Rocks Aid Station, where RBR was waiting, and Brian said he was better, and he would go ahead without me.  I was reluctant, but holy hell, my feet hurt. 

I have trail shoes that, after about mile 15, star rubbing a red spot where the arch support is.  I don't need an arch support. Hence the red spot.  I had managed to stave it off all day by applying SportSlick to it, but was closing in on 40+ miles, so even that wasn't working. 

He ran alone for a while, and got later and later, and more behind.  Eventually, he was 2 hours behind his projected pace.  He ran through one station, and was told not to stop, not for one second, but just keep going because he'd missed their cutoff.  So, he did.  As he ran by me, he shouted that he needed caffeine. 

On the way to the next aid station, RBR suggested we get him something with caffeine.  We saw a gas station open, and that's where I found AMP for sale, 2/$3.  What the hell--he loves Mt. Dew, so, I bought them. 

He was dead last at the turnaround.  I was running the numbers in my head; they didn't look good.  They had extended the deadline due to a racer getting lost on the course when the markings were taken down.  I gave him the AMP , and he took off.  It was after after 6 in the morning.  He had nearly 20 miles to go, but he wasn't moving fast.  The quads had taken a beating.  The sun was up, though, so he could see again. 

We were a little delayed getting through town because they were having a road race, and there's nothing ever, ever, ever so more important than road bikes. Ever . EVAR.  No, just stop. They are way more important that you.  ALWAYS.  What race?  100 miles?  Of running?  Never heard of it.  You can't go this way.  Screw your runners who have been running all night.  A cyclist might come rolling down the hill.  Our race is more important.  yes, that was the attitude.  Roadies can be a fairly elitist bunch.  Not all of them. But enough to give me yet another reason to hate cycling: who wants to be associated with assholes like that?

RBR asked if I thought there was a Starbucks . Well, hell yes, there's always a Starbucks.  In fact, that's a good way to cheer your friends up when they've suffered a tragic loss.  You put a hand on their shoulder, drop your voice down to a warm, comforting tone, and you say, Well, there's always a Starbucks. 

Then, it was back to the next aid station, inbound.  I knew he had a huge hill to scale, but he showed up early.  I was pretty surprised.  He had made up 2 hours of being behind and was now back on track for an appropriate finish. 

Meanwhile, Johnny Tri (JT) had been pacing Catra Corbett, who dropped. I was also told Gordy Ansleigh had dropped earlier.  He asked if Baboo needed a pacer.  Yes!!  I could spend more time sitting on my tired ass rather than running on my dogs.  I gave Baboo the second AMP, and then he and Johnny headed out, with 10 miles to the finish.  We drove to the next one.  It was mile 90. 

We got to the next aid station, and as soon as we parked, my phone rang.  It was JT.  What the hell-?

"Hello?"

What did you give to him?!?!

What?

WHAT DID YOU GIVE HIM??!? 

"An AMP, why?"

HE DROPPED ME!  TWO MILES AGO!  I'VE BEEN TRYING TO CATCH HIM EVER SINCE!

Soon after, Baboo blew through the aid station at Negro Bar.  6 miles to go.  He was running an 8 or 9 minute mile, there at mile 90, hauling ass.  RBR was agog.  He had risen from the dead.  It was a strange sight, not unlike seeing some strange animal running through the city.  He sprinted past several people who were barely walking. 

I was pretty sure I knew why:  Not only did he have a burst of energy, but the sun was getting high. He wanted to take advantage of it being cool and visible out.  We drove to the next aid station at Auburn Dam and waited.  He eventually showed up, and had slowed considerably, but it was 10:00 ish and it was 2.75 miles to the finish, so there was no question now.  He was finishing. He asked if I'd come with him, and feeling pretty certain that he was walking, I did. 

I walked along while we talked, and picked up trash out of boredom.  Along came JT up behind us.  Predictably, 1/4 miles from the finish, Baboo took off, and I tried to keep up, but by now you know: he's a freak stud.  He crossed the finish line at under 29 hours, his second 100-miler in less than a month, with a full marathon done in between, and then went over to get his buckle. 

We arrived went out with JT to the Old Spaghetti Warehouse.  Then we headed to the airport, and arrived back at our house at just prior to 10:00 pm last night. I can't remember sleeping so hard.

I got, let's see, 15 + 32ish + 8 + 2.75 = 57.75 miles for last week, so I was short about 2.25 miles.  With all the running around we did for crewing, I'll call it good. 

Meanwhile, Baboo is thinking he'll crew me at Javalena, instead of doing the whole thing with me.  I think that's a good idea.  You go to some very dark, despairing, bitchy places during those races.  You don't need two people doing that.  You don't need two people saying, yeah, screw this.  I'll quit if you quit. 

Today I'm a little drowsy.  So, I'm headed downstairs to get some coffee.  See you Thursday.

...

Other People's Race Reports: The Leadville Trail 100 mile endurance run.

Dear Diary:
Map of the course can be found here.

It's hard to put into words how awesome it was to be able to accompany my husband in finishing this dream he has had for so long, the "race across the sky".

But you know I'm going to try, right?

I didn't even know how important it was to him myself until after it was all over. He'd become increasing preoccupied, churning out spreadsheet after spreadsheet of pace charts, food charts with calories and grams of carbs.  I would sometimes find myself talking to him, look up and see him staring out the window.  Huh?  What? 

Now, about ultra running.  The aid stations are not water tables.  They are small cities, with places to sit for runners, and scales where they must weigh in. If they've lost too much weight, they have to stay and drink. There is am area for special needs bags, knowledgeable volunteers milling about, several tables of drink (coke, sprite, Gatorade, water, coffee) food (ramen, boiled potatoes, sandwiches, tortilla roll-ups, small candy bars, m&ms, chips, crackers, cookies) and supplies (Vaseline, bandages, Tylenol, etc) and one or two medical personnel on hand.

That might sound like a ridiculous amount of crap food, but deep into a race you want to have things on hand for people to eat regardless of how finicky their stomach is. It isn't important that pop-tarts might have some transfats in them. It's important that they have carbohydrates that are simple and easily absorbed.

And now you know the secret of why we love these things so much.  Unlike triathlon, which pounds efficiency and sleekness into you, ultrarunning is a 31- 50- or 100-mile buffet of the crappiest food that you normally do not touch because, OMG, it's how many damned weight-watchers points?  

Anway, my job: make sure he had 500 calories each hour, watch his hydration and his feet.  And to be there.  This might not seem like much, but it should be noted that of the four 100-milers that Baboo has attempted, the two he did not finish were the two where I wasn't there.  Coincidence?  I think not. Yeah, I know.  AWWWWWW.

Don't stick your finger down your throat at me. It's cute and you know it.

Ultrarunning is hard core. You will, at some point, cross a river, climb a mountain, eat some dust, get rained on, run through snow banks in July, trip and fall, and your feet may be a bloody mess of blisters. Getting help does not necessarily disqualify you, either. Both Sweet Baboo and I have had the experience of a volunteer wrapping our feet in duct tape and kicking us out of his aid station.  Suck it up, princess, you're got 40 more miles ahead of you and a pass to climb.
The worst can be altitude: Many people will train at lower altitudes, not knowing that they are one of the 20% of people who are sensitive to high altitudes.  For those 20%, the ascent up to Hope Pass doesn't leave them breathless, it might leave them with pulmonary edema.  Dean Karnazis attempted this race twice before finishing on his third try, so maybe this was his issue. It's mine.  I'll never be able to do this one, because I'm one of the 1/5.

My first stop of the day was a boat ramp.  The race had started at 4 am, and silently we stood in the dark and cold, seeing our breath, on the shore of Turquoise Lake. Then came the first flicking lights of a miles-long line of small lights flickering and bobbing along the shore, reaching back into the distance.  The runners came through, having completed their first 7 or 8 miles. They ran through silently, watching the ground intently, since it was still pitch black out, and disappeared back into the darkness.

Of course, ultra runner peeps have cowbells. Of course, they were rung. And air horns. At least one camper came down to complain.  Oh, C'MON, fisherman.  You can sleep later.  This is a race!

At the May Queen campground aid station, 13 miles into the race, I had to park over a mile away and hike in supplies. I was continuously pissed off that official crews, with special vehicle tags, had to fight for parking with spectators, who mostly stood around and got in the way. What were the point of those vehicle tags, anyway? This is the largest race of its kind, and there needs to be a "crew only" designated area, so that we can take care of our runners without tripping over someone's 6-year-old who is pitching a fit because she wants some m&ms from the aid station.

This isn't a grumpy issue. It's a safety issue. My need to take care of my runner supersedes your need to take pictures of the race, Cowgirl, so back the f&*# off.

At each aid station I check his pace, time, and prepared a baggy of food for him to take on his way, before he gets there. I also had two prepared bottles of Nuun for him to swap out his old bottles with. Sometimes I had spare shoes, if he had just crossed a river. Sometimes I had spare socks. Usually, I would prepare two bottles of Nuun, and two bottles of water, so that he could grab what he needed. 

At Twin Lakes, about 40 miles into the race, I got there 2 hours early, since the runners had to climb up and over Sugar Loaf Pass to get there. I had a snack, relaxed, and then around 10:30, set up a small "Baboo" aid station, laying out things he might need. My job is to get him out of there as quickly as possible, and to do his thinking for him.  Twin Lakes is gorgeous. 

Now, he was expected about 12:17. I didn't know that he was running really well, so just before noon, I headed for the portable toilets to, um, well.
Dammit, wouldn't you know at that exact moment, he came into the aid station, running past the portables. I exited and walked down to the place where runners were coming into the aid station, not knowing he'd come in.
So there we were - 20 yards apart in a crowd of people. I waited for him to come in, not knowing he was there, and he wandered for a bit, then got some fluids and left the aid station, headed for Hope Pass. After about 30 minutes, I thought, he CAN'T be this slow. I texted a friend and was told he'd come through 40 minutes earlier.
I was devastated. All I could think of was him crossing the river and then going up and over Hope Pass, in the heat of the day, without enough food or fluids, without a change of shoes. His race would be ruined, and it would be my fault.  I would go down in history as the worst wife and crewer ever.
Friends that I shared this with told me not to worry, he'd gone in and gotten fluids at the aid station, but still, I worried. 

I headed back to the hotel and picked up Tim, who was to be his first pacer. Pacers are people who run along with you, usually after dark, keeping you on the trail, talking to you to keep your mind off your discomfort, and they are allowed at Leadville after the turnaround at Winfield.

Winfield was mile 50, and it was a nightmare. We had 15 miles of really rough dirty road to get in. We shared it with the runners for the last 3 miles, and needed to drive 5 miles an hour to avoid sending up clouds of dust. Many non-crew vehicles ignored this, and ignored people telling them to slow down. There was a long wait for parking, as I had to wait until someone else left before I could go in. Many non-crew people ignored the requests of the race organizers not to go into Winfield, so again I had to compete with them for space. The aid station itself was crowded, and looked a lot like an outdoor rock concert, with dogs, kids, etc., running around. It was hard to get to a position to see Baboo behind all the people holding up signs of encouragement and holding 3-year-olds on their shoulders.  yeah, I know, Find your inner Polyanna, Misty.  You know what you can do with your Polyanna, right? 

So.  Baboo was expected at 4 pm.  I joined up with DreadPirate, Bones, and others, who were crewing for Mo, and they helped me with Baboo, getting things he needed. Baboo came in as sweaty and tired around 4 pm as we thought he would.  He sat for a while, tired, but happy.  Tim held an umbrella over him for shade. I gave him a wash cloth dipped in cold water to wipe down his arms and legs, lots of coke, ice, some food, and eventually sent him on his way, to climb back up over Hope Pass with Tim. I headed back to Twin Lakes. The sun was setting, and it had cooled off. I hoped Baboo would perk up now that it was cooling down. I hung out with DreadPirate at Twin Lakes, and then after seeing him off at Twin lakes, I went back to the hotel briefly to get a bite to eat.  I felt somewhat guilty about having a pre-made meal of punjab eggplant and rice, but not too much.  I didn't sign up to starve and beat myself up over 100 miles, why should I suffer?

So.  By the time he came back to a place called Treeline, it was after midnight, and I was tired. Baboo had set up an area in the Element that had a thick futon mattress and thick quilt on it, and I lay on that and dozed, despite the cold. I kept the engine running and the back hatch open so that he could spot me. When he came in, I got him his supplies while he retaped his feet.

Then I headed for Fish Hatchery, mile 75ish. At this aid station he cut the socks off his compression socks, because he said they were squeezing his feet together.  That left him with compression leg sleeves. His pacer, Tim, had gone 25 tough miles with him and was relieved by another friend of ours, Mark. Mark would take Baboo up and over Sugar Loaf pass to May Queen, about 13 miles. Mark had already paced another friend of ours that night, so his plate was full.

I headed back to May Queen, mile 87ish (the course is 102 miles) and got a decent parking spot, since it was well after midnight and most of the spectators were tired and had gone away. I set my alarm for 3:30 am and got about 2 hours of sleep, the first I'd had in 24 hours. Then I took off my jeans, under which I'd put on running tights, and grabbed my headlight and running gear. Baboo came in about 4 am, so after loading him up with foods and fluids, I headed out with him.

Now, I was pretty sure that even at mile 90, he was going to be able to outrun me, so my plan was to switch off with Tim again at the Boat ramp, and Tim could take him the last 7 miles in. We moved so fast, however, that they weren't there yet. We yelled for Tim a couple times, and then just kept going. Luckily for me Baboo did start to wind down a bit, so it was easier for me to keep up with him.

We each have awesome headlamps, so running through the woods alongside Torquoise lake in the dark was no problem. As we circled the lake, still at a good pace (mostly running) dawn came, and the sun rose. We left the lake and headed back into Leadville. The last few miles were cruel: long uphills, the last being a long uphill, short downhill, and another uphill to the finish line.

Baboo finished in 27:35, far less than he had predicted. He was hoping to finish under 30, since that was the cutoff, and had fantasized about being under 29. He never thought he'd be able to finish in less than 28, and the knowledge that the course was 102.5 miles was just that much sweeter.

Pacing him the last 15 miles was a really fantastic. Not only did I get to see parts of the course I would not have gotten to see, but I felt those weeks of him being distant and preoccupied disappearing. At one point, he started moving ahead of me, thinking he would move ahead of a runner he thought he could finish ahead of. Even at mile 90, he was faster than I.  He saw me falling behind, and slowed down. When I pointed out that he shouldn't have to worry about leaving his pacer behind, he said, "But I'm not leaving my wife behind."

I know, I know. Say it with me now: Awwwwwwww. Hands off, he's taken.

So, we finished together. Whenever we came near people, I would drop back a little and motion wildly for people to cheer for him, which they did. As we approached the finish line, I peeled off, and he broke the tape and got his finisher's medal, one of the 52% of those that finished that race, of the nearly 700 who started.

So, is this for everyone? Maybe not. I've heard that, like a lot of intense things, crewing your spouse will take your marriage in whatever direction it's going and send it that way that much faster. This is the third time I've crewed from Baboo, and I enjoy it each time. Normally Baboo is the strong one who takes care of things for me, so it's nice for me to take care of things for him for a change. I really, really like the ultra running community, and I like being in beautiful places, and it's unlikely I would ever do this run myself, given the difficulty and the altitude - so I get to participate this way. 

Plus, Baboo has always stood behind me and supported anything I wanted to do, or try to do, so it feels good for me to be able to be part of him succeeding, as well.  Call it being supportive, or call it storing up brownie points, it works. 

Mostly, I like the opportunity to run alongside my husband, something that I can normally only do if he's already gone 80 or so miles. ;-)

Next up: Rio Del Lago. I'm doing the 50K alongside Cuteness Herself, RBR, and then we'll crew Baboo as he finishes the 100-miler.

 ...

I love Lucy.

Dear Diary,

This week as I was slogging it through miles 40-43, I don't recall going that slow since I first started running.  It was barely a shuffle jog.  But I hoofed out the last of the planned 4 miles. 

Part of the training is toughening myself, emotionally and physically, so no matter how crappy I feel [unless there lots of blood or a bone poking through the skin] I finish every single workout I have planned.  I dragged myself into the back yard at mile 3.99 with an average pace, slightly under 15 m/mile, I think.  Yike.  But waiting for me was Sweet Baboo with a nonfat cinnamon dulce latte.  I had oatmeal, a shower, and a nonfat cinnamon dulce latte.  In that order.

Will I always feel this crappy?  I can barely make it up a flight of stairs,  I complained.

"While you're base-building, Yep.  But you'll start feeling better."

Sweet Baboo is the boss of my training for JJ100. He has devoured the "Lore of Running," and every ultrarunner and trail runner magazine, and is a storehouse of knowledge for ultrarunning theory.  He has devised my running schedule up to Javalena:

• Tuesday, I always do 4 hilly "fast" miles
• Wednesday, I do 10 miles.
• Thursday, I do 6 miles, as part of our Thursday night "beer" runs, when we all go hill running and then have a beer after. I do not. I hate beer.  Don't try to ameliorate that.  Many fine people have tried.  I'm not a beer kind of person. 

 Anyway.  10 miles is tricky on a workday, for me.  Baboo has decided that, Wednesday mornings, I should do about 6 of it going downhill early, before work. He then picks me up at the bottom of the hill.  This started at 5:30 am, and ended with me showering and going to work.  There is a net 500 foot decrease, mostly on a paved bike path, ending in a mall parking lot in midtown.  The purpose, he tells me, is to gently build up my quads and increase my foot speed. 

I don't care.  Everything is eclipsed by the word, "downhill".  Booyah.  Love the downhill.

Tuesdays, and after work on Wednesday, I do one of my favorite runs:

This isn't as dramatic as it looks.  The trip back down is my absolute favorite part.  I know that sometime soon, Baboo is going to point out the need for me to do long steady uphills, which means doing this run backwards.  Ugh. 

Baboo is all proper and serious-like when explaining my training to me.  Tuesday night, while he was explaining the importance of the dowhill run, the route, and so on, I was wearing running shorts, and my "I love Lucy" apron.  And that's it.

It's fun, because it takes him by surprise, and he seems flustered, and sometimes loses his train of thought for a moment.  

I picked this outfit just for you, I said.

"I, uh, and, yeah.  I like that outfit," he said, momentarily losing his train of thought.

Weekends, I do my long runs.  Runs, with an S.  I do my longest run on Saturday, and then a slightly shorter run on Sunday.  This week it's 20 and 15.  So, I signed up for a local half marathon on Sunday.  I'm starting it with Courtney, so if I finish before she does, I'll run back out and find her. that will give me an extra couple miles.  But the way I'm feeling, she'll probably beat me.

I'm told I'm supposed to get 130 grams of protein a day during all this.  That's a lot of damned protein for someone who doesn't eat meat, or soy - where the hell will it all come from?  Looks like I'll be eating a lot of eggs, whey protein drinks, and fish.  I need to find some organic fish, so that I don't start building up toxic levels of mercury or something.

This sounds like a lot, I know.  It sounds like a lot to me, and I'm doing it!  Five years ago, I was training for my first triathlon.  Now I'm training for my first 100K, maybe more if I can pull it off.

Do you think I have a chance of finishing all 100 miles at Javalena?

"It's possible.  It might just be sheer stubborness," said Mr. Serious, thoughtfully. 

Stubbornness I've got.  In spades.  We'll see.

Meanwhile, a very good friend of mine has announced that she has signed up for her first 50K.
 Welcome, young apprentice.  Here's some inspiration: 

...

Thursday 13: Untitled.

Dear Diary:

13 It is finally raining here.  We came home from Leadville to rain.  The next morning I got up to go to work, put the dog out, and she has two preferred places to be when it rains: huddled under a patio table that affords no protection, or sitting in the middle of the patio, in the rain, staring in at me, because sadly, she doesn't know:

I will not be manipulated.

I finally went out side with a leash and dragged her over to her shelter, a large shed that is clean, dry, and has a large doggie door in the side.  She resisted the entire time, dug in her feet, and as soon as I let go of the leash, bolted back over the sit on the wet patio, in the downpour, and stare at me. Fine.  Whatever.  I went to work. This is proof of creationism.  Dogs could not have survived for millions of years without us.  They are just too, too dumb.  Sweet, but dumb. 

12.  Now that Sweet Baboo is "tapering" (read: he's only running 50 miles this week) he's the boss of my training, and runs with me.  For some reason, this makes me run faster.  I don't know why.  It's not like I'm trying to prove anything to himself.  Maybe it's just that having a running buddy, I'm too self conscious to take my usual lazy walk breaks.  The result: faster times in training. 

11.  I have come to the conclusion that I am sadly lacking in symmetry.  How do I know this?  Behold, my evidence:
a) Whenever I wear Cw-x tights, the "supportive" seams always rotate inward on my right leg.
b) My left calf muscle has an ongoing issue, but only my left.

I have to assume that I lurch along, not unlike Quasimoto.  Next thing you know, I'll have a built-up running shoe. 

10.  This week I had a kid's case on my desk, one that I taught my last semester of teaching.  I went down to the youth detention center (kid jail) to interview him for admission.

Since I last saw him, he's used a lot of meth, heroin, alcohol, and inhalants.  He lives alternately on the streets and in hotels, when he gets enough money from stealing and reselling stuff and has some leftover after buying drugs.  The year that I taught him was the last year he finished of school.  He's not as smart as he used to be.  He's really tired. 

When I asked him if he wanted to come to the hospital where I work.  He waved his hand around the jail, and said, "I don't know.  I seem to do best when I"m in here.  Maybe I should just stay here as long as I can".

When you're 17, and resigned to a life in lockup, who can give you hope?

How do you get hope back? 

9.   I turns out that even though I had only planned to do a few long events on the last quarter of the year, the training is still sucking up a lot of time.  I had planned on doing a lot of sprint triathlons, but holy hell: I spend most of my time running.  I can't believe I signed up for a hundred miler.  I  must be crazy. 

8.  Sorry for the downer (#7).  It's just that I thought about this kid from time to time.  He was the smartest in his class.  I figured he'd be the one to make it.  You just never know. 

7.  I dropped another pound.  I went to my ticker, up at the top of this page, to enter in my new weight, and it was all, "New!  Now track your waist measurement!"  Oh, HELL no.  I am not going public with that.  My weight is one thing; my actual measurements are another. 

6.  I will share, however, that the size 10s are starting to loosen.  This is good, because I want to weigh as little as possible if I'm going to try to drag my ass over 100 miles. 

5.  My training this week:

• Friday: 10 mile hike to the top of Hope Pass and back.
• Saturday: 7.3 mile run around Silverthorne, Colorado, Elevation 9000 feet, rising up to around 9400 feet, dropping down to 8800 feet, and then back up to 9000.
• Sunday: 7.8 mile trail run alongside Turquoise Lake, mostly flat, starting at 9900 feet.
• Monday: rest
• Tuesday: 4.2 mile trail run at home, elevation gain, 563 feet.
• Wednesday: 8 mile road run, elevation gain, 355 feet. 
• Thursday, 6.7 miles, road/trail, elevation gain, unknown.
• Total mileage: 44 miles.  Not a bad start. 

 4.  It's amazing that I ran on Thursday.  I haven't stuck with a training plan and actually run a single Thursday until now.  Of course, Baboo is watching over me, so I'm too self conscious not to.  It will be an even bigger miracle of I do both of my long runs this weekend: 20 miles on Saturday, 12 on Sunday. 

3.   Wednesday's run was momentous for a very important reason: I wore a running skirt.  I have NEVER been able to wear those things.  But last night, I wore one, and only tugged the shorts down twice.  You men won't understand.  You women will. 
 
2.  I will share my favorite fast meal: steamable bagged veggies, kraft easy mac in a cup, and some tuna or salmon.  I suppose you could use chicken.  Mix it all together, and divide in half, and voila: the guilty pleasure of mac and cheese with veggies and protein.  
 
1.  Thursday is binge day.  I have decided that I will have: a donut.  More on this later.  
 
... 

Chasing the Greater Baboo.

I spent the last 36 hours crewing the Sweet Baboo at the Javalina Jundred.  I'll put up some pictures soon.

The Javalina Jundred is a great, well-run party that has ultra runners doing 100 miles in it.  It's 6 laps of 15.4 miles each, and then a 9-mile loop.  YES, I KNOW THAT ADDS UP TO OVER 100 MILES, WHICH IS BEYOND F***ED UP, but there it is. If you are unable to complete all seven laps, but complete at least four, you get the Javalina Jundred "Whimp-out 100" buckle, for completing 100K (62 miles).  What's great about that option is that it keeps people from hurting themselves for a buckle.

So I ran back and forth a bit fetching for him.  Made him put on sunscreen even though he was cranky.  You know what crew means, don't you?  Cranky Runner, Endless Waiting.  I figured it was a good sign. 
Andy paced his 5t lap, and I paced him for his 6th lap, and between the two of us, we saw Baboo through the night.  

So during the lap I paced, it's dark, and we're power-walking and doing some jogging on miles 75 through 90.  The aid stations are 5 miles apart which seems appallingly far apart, but whatever.  They are super well stocked with friendly, knowledgeable aid-station volunteers.  So we're cruising along in the dark, and then dawn comes - I hand Baboo his sunglasses and as we hit one of the inexplicable warm spots in the desert, he says something I don't quite catch.  Something like, "when the trail gets really nice, I can sprint it." and then he does.

Oh, yes, he did: while I was trying to extricate one arm from my pullover jacket he takes off at a pretty full on run, and I have to follow him, because what kind of loser pacers gets her ass kicked by her runner?  I thought it was going to be a trot, but then he's running full tilt.  I mean, the dude had 80+ miles on his feet, and he is SMOKING me.  What a freak!  I'm hauling ass, trying to catch him, and it's only about 3 miles later that I finally catch him, because he stopped at the next aid station.

I was able to catch my breath after that, but he set off at a trot and I had to keep up.  It was at this point that I suggested that maybe he didn't need me after this loop.  I might even be slowing him down. Don, on the other hand, was happy to pace Baboo for his final 8 or so miles. 

And I"m like this big baby.  I've gone 15 miles at a pretty good clip, and I'm all, "It's hot out here.  My feet hurt" but I never, ever said that.  I said things like, Just think how great it will be when you're finished. 

I watched one pacer, who was jogging backwards facing his sobbing, exhausted runner, You're not going to give up!  You know why?  Because Janet doesn't give up!  Janet is going to get that buckle!! Janet kept running. and crying a little, but I don't think she quit. That's what a pacer does.  Doesn't let that runner quit. The ones that do get recriminations a day or two later when the fog has lifted, Why'd you let me quit?  I wasn't injured.  I was just tired.  You should have kept me going!

So anyway, sweet Baboo finished, wasn't last, my Baboo ran 100 miles.  Again.  I bet your Baboo can't do that. 

PS: Phoenix is just crazy hot sun, even in November.  Ugh.  

Meanwhile.  I have some general comments to make about crewing an ultra runner.  Now, I'm not saying I'm the world's best crewer, I'm still learning.  But I witnessed some pretty shameful "help" from people toward their runners.  I want to address them, who will go to work tomorrow and tell their co-workers/friends that they "crewed" for someone at the Javelina Jundred, when indeed, their runner was pretty much on their own.  I'm not naming any names.  That would be mean. 

YOU ARE NOT CREWING IF YOU DO ANY OF THE FOLLOWING:

• Showed up five hours after the race started, missing their entire first loop.
• Spend most of your time kicked back, reading, napping, instead of getting everything ready for your runner.   
• Sat in a chair, watched your runner come in...and then watched him or her leave, all without getting out of your chair.
• Watched your runner search for something in their bag without helping them find what they think they need.  
• Watched your runner run back out into the Arizona sun without putting sunscreen on them.
• Believed that because they are a grownup, they don't need to be reminded of anything, and they don't need your help.
• Don't check to see how much they are drinking.
• Don't find out when the last time they peed was.
  
• Left at sundown even though your runner was not finished with their race, when indeed sundown is when they start needing you the most.
• Weren't around to know that, in the night, they became discouraged and tired and then quit, because nobody was there to talk them through it or tell them to get their butt in gear. 
• Spent most of your time eating and napping.  Then, when you left, you behind left the foods that runners don't eat (meat and cheese trays), taking with you the foods that ultra runners do eat (potato chips).
• Haven't bothered to learn about any of these things, because even though your spouse or parent has been doing this for years, you haven't bothered to learn a damned thing about it.  .
  

NO, if you did those things, you were not crewing.  You were spectating.  When you crew, that's your runner you're waiting for.  You are there for that runner.  It's not about you.  It doesn't matter if you lose some sleep.  It doesn't matter if you're bored.  You're there for them.  They need you most at night, when it's lonely and they feel like nobody else in the course.  This is when you, or another pacer, needs to get your butt in gear and follow them around the course, to assure them that nothing's out there, and the course is that way.

And that's all I'm going to say about that.

...

It's all GOOOOOOOD. Palo Duro Race Report.

 “I hammered down the trail, passing rocks and trees like they were standing still.”    --Red Spicer, founder, Palo Duro Trail Run

 ...with pictures shamelessly stolen from others...

To repeat from my former post:
My goal: To beat last year's time of 8:25:51, even if it's by seconds. I would be happy with, say, 8:25:49.  My only other 50K run was 8:26:55, so I'd like to PR on this trail. I'll go as far as telling you that my FANTASY goal is coming in under 8 hours.  yep.  that's a fantasy, alright!  Reality is somewhere between, right?

Okay.  So. The Palo Duro Trail run is a 25-year-old race in Palo Duro Canyon, which is the 2nd largest canyon in the United States.  The 50K race is a 6-mile loop, and then a 12-1/2 mile loop, run twice.   5054 feet of climbing, total, spread out over 50K.  While the climbs and descents are short, this is definitely a race you want to practice hills with. 

The terrain is rugged, with short steep climbs and descents, and it goes through some open, unshaded areas and some slightly boggy, shaded areas.  You never actually run through water, and most of the time you're in the open.  The aid stations are nearly exactly 3 miles apart, with friendly accommodating volunteers.  At the aid stations there are chips, Gatorade, water, coca-cola, m&ms, boiled potatoes, and salt.  For breakfast, I had 2 packages of oatmeal 3 hours before the race, along with fat-free tapioca pudding and apple sauce.  During the race itself, I had little solid food, about a gallon or so of gatorade and some coca-cola.  

When the race starts, is chilly and dark, and you're walking the first mile or so because it starts in a narrow, u-shaped single track trail.  So you're in the dark, and there's a long line of you snaking your way up through the canyon, waiting patiently for it to spread out enough for you to run.  

I wore my race-ready long-distance capris and my injinjis, and an Athleta top.  I had a headlight, thoughtfully provided by my Sweet Baboo because "you always forget your headlight," and my iPod.  I wore my New Balance 811s, which I took out of the closet, puzzling over why I don't wear them more often.  Well, I got my answer.  They have very little cushioning, and the numb toe nerve thing that I get on my right foot from time to time started barking about mile 18.  

Anyway.  It was cloudy and chilly and glorious for the first 18 miles, but then the clouds went away and the Texas sun came, uninvited.  There were enough cool breezes from time to time to make it bearable, but eventually I was in my running top/bra, because I didn't have the foresight to wear a short-sleeve shirt, and the long-sleeve shirt I was wearing, although wicking, was nearly unbearable formy big self. 

One thing I did do that helped a lot: After about mile 20 my back started aching from all the climbing. I stopped at an aid station and bent down at the waist, touching my feet.  Then I twisted a bit to the side, and held it for a about half minute, and then grabbed my right shoe with my left hand and pulled, stretching out my back.  I repeated that on the other side, and my back never ached again after that.  I'd managed to stretch out my IT band, hamstrings, and back, all at once.  

After the sun came up and my feet started barking, I had to start walking, but I was power walking. 

My Garmin died a few miles for the finish. 

Right: At the finish line, Bones, Mo, Sweet Baboo, Me, DP.  Bones drew the enviable "666" race number, so the girls stapled horns to his hat.   

 I was surprised and VERY pleased to find out that I'd made my fantasy goal of coming in under 8 hours!  I'd knocked nearly 30 minutes off my time from last year.  I don't have actual time yet, but I think my pace was around 15:05.  

Of course, Sweet Baboo, et al, kicked me butt.  And that was every considering the mongo blister SB had on the bottom of his foot, that he decided he'd "practice" running on.  Read his race report.

Training: ask for it by name. 

What makes that even more amazing is that last year, a wayward volunteer pointed me in a directino that caused me to take over a mile off the course.  I didn't find out until after I was finished and was discussing the course with Baboo as we were leaving, but she's pointed me away from about a 3/4-mile-out and back that I was supposed to do, and so not only did I do this faster, but I did it longer than last year.  I was determined to do this course again and actually do the whole course this time.

So, I ran about a mile and half longer, nearly a half hour faster, oh, and I'm about 15 pounds heavier than last year.   Couple of hotspots on my feet, but no blisters (I hardly ever blister)

After crossing the finish line, I took a shower in the camp shower area.  It was dirty and smelled funny, and it was the best, most awesome shower EVAR.  If I could have sat down, it would have been even better.  And so, clean and happy, the Daily Plate says I burned 6000 calories at the race.  I'm pretty sure that once I deduct the gatorade and coca-cola, I'll have enough to eat the large, alfredo pizza with mushrooms and provolone that is my fav.  Baboo and I also follow up long runs and races with orange crystal light mixed with citrus Nuun.  Tastes like orange crush.  Yumm.
Oh, and everyone else did really well, too.  DP, Bones, Mo, and others...DP also PRed.

We drove back to Albuquerque straight away. So now I'm going to eat a fistful of tylenol and go to bed.  Cheers, y'all.  I'll post pictures soon.

Next up: Ghost Town 38.5, in January, although I won't rule out any fun local trail runs in between.
...

Gear Review: The Tech4o Women's Accelerator Trail Runner

Last October Tech4o wrote me and asked me to review one of their watches.  I was prepared to be skeptical. I turn away a lot of offers to advertise stuff on my blog. I don't do this to make money, and I won't want anyone making money off me, but I was intrigued by their claims.

And you know, msr Garmean is so much fun: the maps, elevation profiles, and mounds of data. But, it has its drawbacks: In hilly locations and locations with heavy tree cover, it skips some data points, causing it to vastly under report the distance traveled. For instance, at my first 50K, which is 31 miles, it reported that I had traveled about 28 miles. DISAPPOINTING!  

Other drawbacks 2) expensive, 3) the battery only holds a charge for 8 to 10 hours, meaning that if you are as appallingly slow as I, the battery will stop before you are done.  4) the garmin is HUGE.   I am a delicate flower. I cannot wear a laptop computer strapped to my wrist, and I'm always accidentally bumping those stupid on/off buttons without realizing it, and then next thing I know, it's stopped recording my motion.

Okay. the Tech4o uses a watch battery, and though I don't know how long it lasts, it lasts at least several days, since it was running when it arrived at my house 2 weeks ago, and is still running now.

So, I got this watch in the mail, and was prepared to

 be skeptical, as I said. I mean, it's a pedometer, right? Wasn't McDonalds giving those away very long ago?  Well, this has a few more functions: It has a chrono and a timer. I'm not sure how many laps yet. I haven't read the book. It is the size of a regular watch - it doesn't stand out.

Test #1: Is it easy to use?
I figured out pretty fast that if I pushed in the

 lower left MODE button for 3 seconds, it jumps into a menu. You push the right side buttons to page through the menue, and press MODE briefly to choose one. To get back to the menu, you press MODE in for 3 seconds again.

I looked briefly in the book and fiddled around some more, and used the 12" squares on a gym floor to measure my stride length while walking and running.  I plugged those into the setup, along with my weight (it calculates approximate calories burned) into the personal profile 8 of 10 menu.

In pedometer mode, it shows number of steps, with additional information above. You choose the additional information: Calories, elapsed time, current time, distance, speed (MPH). All this is based on the length of your stride and how many steps you've taken, which it registers as you walk.  I found it pretty easy to set up without the book. I glanced at the book, and it seems pretty straightfoward, so it passed that test.

Test #2: Is it accurate?
I wore this to the Rocky Racoon, my first 50-miler. I would consider anything less than 5% error to be successful. The course was reported to be 50 miles, three 16-2/3 loops. I occasionally left the course briefly to take care of the call of nature, and twice I walked over to my bag at the changing tent. Sometimes I walked normally. Sometimes, I staggered. A couple of times, I trotted.

The total distance, according to my Tech4o watch, was 51.018 miles. That is a 2% error, well within the acceptable range for mine (and most people's) needs.

I could probably improve the error if I set up the stride length by walking a known length, say 600 feet, and counted the number of steps, averaging to get a stride length but no matter, I'm satisfied with this result.

I will admit that I have not tested it yet while running, because I can't run. Supposedly, the watch has some sort of logic that allows it to understand the difference between when you are running and walking, so that it then switches to running stride length and records that.

I discovered that at midnight, in exercise mode, it starts a new set of data. This may or may not be a problem - just something to be aware of.  It keeps the previous day's data.  

Summary:

• Accurate, for most people's purposes - for me it the error rate was 2%.
• Cheap! The model I tested retails for about $70.
• It comes in pink! 

Suggestions for the maker: there should be an option to look at current speed in minutes per mile, rather than miles per hour. That's my only complaint.

When I can run, I'll do a second, shorter review.

...

In Which I Suck, Suck, Suck. And Am Discouraged.

I went for an 8 mile trail run today, and it sucked, sucked, sucked. It's like I have to start over again. My legs felt old, heavy, and tired. I felt old, heavy, and tired. I was breathless and slow and everything that I didn't expect to be.

I would have thought I'd be bouncing back faster than this. And I'm not. In fact, it seems to get worse every time I run. I was beginning to wonder if I am going to be back in shape for the Ghost Town 38.5 in about 5 weeks.

It doesn't help that I'm up 14 pounds from my August weight, and that I was carring a 10-pound pack.

This was the longest trail run I've done since Palo Duro in October, nearly two months ago, and I was about 20 pounds heavier on the trails today than I was then.

Plus, all my climbing muscles and tendons and such as soft, and need to be reconditioned. OW.


>Heavy Sigh.<

The good part of today's run was that it was in the hills near our new house. The more we run out there the more I'm starting to learn loops and routes for easy workuts, challenging workouts, and workouts with a view. Now, I found out that there is this racewalking club here in Albuquerque. A woman I work with, her spouse is a competitive racewalker. I looked up some stuff and did you know the champion racewalkers can WALK a 5K in under 21 minutes? and a 10K in under 42 minutes?

WOW.

I'd never give up running. But in those moments when I can't run, or if I need a break from the pounding, I'd like to be able to walk quickly. I think it would be great crosstraining. I'm not saying it woud be easy. Just different.

So, I emailed a guy in the racewalking club here and asked him for information. Like, is there someone who can teach me? Coach me?

Maybe it will be a new adventure. racewalking the hills of the 'Burque. Cool. I'll be sure and share everything I find out.

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Random bits of excitement.

1) I found a local source of chinese mock meat, in the freezer of a local world food market. As I write this, I am enjoying cajun mock shrimp, which is awesome, and Sweet Baboo is having some mock barbecued pork, which is so good, you can almost taste the trichinella.


2) My tattoo is finally past the reallllly itchy/peely stage. I'm going swimming tomorrow.


3) I managed to get through the day without throwing things at the head of a particular student, even though I thought about it more than once. Thought about it. Long and hard. (hah, heh, she said long and hard) Guess what, Miss Thang? Having a diagnosis of ODD in your record doesn't exempt you from being written up.

4) I've decided that 2008 will be the year of my first ultra marathon. I'm not fast, but I'm good at holding a pace (my coach even said so.) Here's some runs that I'm considering, for next year. If you've done any of these, let me know! I'd appreciate some feedback. The first 50K's I'd like to do would be ones that don't have cutoffs.

• JANUARY: the inaugural Mississippi Blues marathon, in Jackson OR the Big Bend 50K in Texas.
  
• APRIL: the Fiesta de Albuquerque Marathon.
  
• MAY: the Jemez 50K trail run.
  
• AUGUST: the LaLuz trail run, if I get picked. The field is limited, and runners are selected by lottery.
  
• SEPTEMBER: Colorado Relay, with assorted Peeps such as Pirate, Pirate's Beloved, Sweet Baboo, and others.
  
• OCTOBER: Palo Duro 50K Trail Run.

6) I'm almost caught up on my blog reading. I fell way behind.

7) I found a new blog I'm addicted to. Here's a sample: http://www.hoboteacher.com/blog/2007/02/work-on-your-classroom-management.html

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