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September 27, 2006
Dear Predators,
(I spend a lot of time writing in this blog about certain animalian predators that live in Yellowstone, like bears. This blog entry will be a little different; it's about the predator that is the human animal. Please don't be worried about me, as I am currently surrounded by some of the coolest, kindest, awesomest folks. A friend of mine, on the other hand, is not. This blog entry is in reference to current events in her life.)
Could you kindly take a moment and read this little note and realize what awful pieces of creepiness you are?
If you call a person incessantly and they don't return your calls, they don't like you, leave them alone.
If you send a person entirely unrequited text messages, they don't like you, leave them alone.
If you invite yourself over to a person's house without invitation, you're pushing your limits, leave them alone.
If you've been told not to come over to a person's house and you still drive by multiple times, you've crossed the line, leave them alone.
If you go to someone's house when they aren't home and try to go in to wait for them inside only to find that the doors are locked, you are a stalker, leave them alone.
If you wait for hours in your car outside a person's house when they aren't home or when they're sleeping inside, you are a stalker, leave them alone.
If you blame the other person when confronted for all your wrongdoings in this situation, you even more of a predator, leave them alone.
Predators like you are some of the awfulest people upon this planet. You intentionally cause harm, fear, and duress among the segments of society that you harass. You cause those people to change their lifestyles. You cause those people to change their life outlooks.
You are sick, sick people. Do us all a favor, go crawl in a hole and die. Seriously.
Sincerely,
Meghan
Posted by Meghan at 1:40 AM | Comments (4)
September 25, 2006
How To Be A Bully
Corrado posed a question about the goings-on of the elk community here in my home. I do not claim to be an expert in this field as my experience comes from only 2 falls of observing elk interactions in Yellowstone National Park.
For about 10 months of the year, most elk live in harmony with each other. Perhaps here and there, cow elk will scuffle with other elk to protect their calves. Most commonly, though, all elk, including large bull elk, will coexist with no problems. For most of the year, cows and their calves live in fairly large herds, grazing through the backcountry. These herds often include young bulls, those that are only a few years old. Contrastingly, the large, older bulls live either mostly alone or with each other, totally seperated from all other elk. It is fairly amazing to imagine that the same bull elk you see chilling with each other for most of the year can get so downright nasty in the fall.
Nasty in the sense of the interesting elk conundrum that is the rut. In the fall, the both the cows and the bulls become fertile. Cow elk produce eggs and bull elk produce sperm only during a certain times of the year. Luckily (or perhaps as a consequence of thousands of years of evolution), these periods of fertility coincide in the fall. When this happens, the bull elk approach the large herds of cows and their calves, and everyone becomes gathered together in a highly disharmonious powwow of sorts.
The first thing that the bull elk begin to do when the rut begins is to bugle. I've previously described the crazy noise that is bugling. Bugling, as well as other dominant displays such as posturing, marking territory with their urine, and destroying trees and shrubs with their antlers, among the bull elk allow them to discern a pecking order of dominant males. Additionally, the bulls are showing off for the cows. Cows are seemingly attracted to the biggest bugling and the loudest displays.
Next, the most dominant bull elk that have gathered around a herd of cows and their calves (In the case of my neighborhood, it's 4 dominant bulls associated with this herd.) begin to form their harems. Some cows willingly follow certain bulls while others must be persuaded. The calves always follow their mothers and the young bulls try very hard to remain invisible during this time. Harem-gathering can be quite tricky, and the harems change from moment to moment. It's rather a compex and crazy chess game that isn't over until all the animals stop being fertile.
A cow might change her mind as to which bull she selects for mating; other cows might follow her lead. The benefitting bull elk might assist the cows in their physical movement from one harem to another, leading them in the appropriate direction and wooing them with funny bugles as they move. Opposingly, the losing bull might get pushy and frustrated, and he might begin running circles around the leaving cows so as to try to redirect them.
Bull elk also play sneaky games in trying to break up other bulls' harems and steal their cows. Frequently, bulls might attempt to steal a few cows from a large harem by physically isolating them from the rest of the harem. That is, the bull will walk right into the edge of the harem and push a few cows away just when the bull who owns the harem isn't looking. Generally, this is accomplished without much drama; I kind of think that the original bull doesn't even miss a few cows when they're gone. Rarely, a bull pulls off a full harem steal by igniting some sort of mass confusion among another bull's harem. Mass confusion can be created by acting crazy, knocking down trees, and running around wildly. This scares the cows and they will scatter and seperate from their bull. When a full harem steal occurs, you can bet this pisses the hell out of the harem's owner. Sometimes the original bull will fight the stealer; other times, he will digress into a rampaging fit of uncontrolled violence. Such was the case in my neighborhood the other night.
The case of the bull elk who rampaged his way through my neighborhood provides a great example of how this jockeying works. My "neighboorhood" is often described as having upper and lower sections that are about 200 vertical feet apart from each other. There is a large herd of cows and their calves and 4 dominant bulls that have gathered in my neighborhood. So far this year, one bull had gathered a harem and brought it to the lower section of my neighborhood while the rest of the herd and the 3 other bulls remained in the upper section of the neighborhood. On Thursday, one bull from the upper section lost his harem (I'm not sure how.), so he came down to the lower section to see what was going on. He incited mass confusion among the harem in the lower section of my neighborhood. I witnessed it: 1) He ran wildly around and through the group. His behavior frightened the harem and they scattered in several directions. 2) Then he did some posturing and bugling and charging of the bull elk who originally owned the harem to divert the bull during the cow scatter. 3) He then ran back and forth between the bull and the cows, gradually increasing the distance between the original bull and his now-lost harem.
In turn, the original bull went crazy. He plyed his way through my neighbor's car with his antlers. He ripped through saplings like they were flimsy blades of grass. He rammed my house repeatedly with his antlers, thereby ripping my satellite radio antenna off the house. The funniest thing was that my antenna then got caught in his antlers and he ran around trying to free it. It was a funny sight despite the fact that he ruined the antenna.
This is perhaps the most long-winded natural history description ever. Should this not be more than enough information about elk to put you to sleep, this website is an excellent review of elk, including the elk rut.
(MY RUNNING: I went on a most beautiful trail run on Sunday, 10 miles as the map read of gradual climbing then descending on a trail that circumnavigated a mountain. The views were fabulous and I felt great. It was crisp but sunny with just a few clouds. I ran in a sports bra and shorts! We encountered little grizzly bear tracks, pretty fresh, but no bear.
Today I did a challenging hill workout that I learned from an ultrarunner, and I highly recommend it. After a solid warmup, you begin running uphill on a trail at a non-sustainable effort, something you can keep up for 10 minutes tops. You run uphill at that effort until you feel you are about to redline, then you take the effort down a notch so that you are still working hard but that the redline push briefly recedes. You continue at that slightly slower effort until you in fact redline. Then, you slow into an uphill shuffle for a 5 minute recovery. Repeat ad nauseum until you get the designated workout you wish. The runner told me that each "set" should last 15-20 minutes, plus 5 minutes recovery. He also said that the workout is highly variable based upon terrain. Sometimes, the terrain will push you toward the red zone quickly even of you're adjusting your effort for the terrain. Other times, the terrain will allow you to consciously push the effort towards the red zone. He also said that he's done this workout for several hours on trails! I did a warmup, one set which lasted 25 minutes, then a hard effort back downhill to my car. I had intended to do two sets, but my time was cut short. I drove once to the trailhead and found that I had packed 2 left shoes, so I had to drive back home for the appropriate footwear before I could do the workout. However, I LOVED this workout. LOVED it. Guess what he calls this workout? The Kama Sutra Hill Climb. I will leave it at that.)
Posted by Meghan at 9:07 PM | Comments (2)
September 23, 2006
Barely Winning
I'm bravely fighting a battle against some sort of bug that wants to send me horizontal into bed with illness. I'm barely winning, but it's been rather tough so far.
It all started a week ago, when I was out in a snowstorm all day at a cross country meet. I began to feel suspciously unwell shortly thereafter. However, lots of rest tucked those symptoms away for the time being. It doesn't really help that this bug is cycling its way through my cross country team and that I spend more time with them as a collective whole than anyone else in my life. Then, I spent Thursday outside in cold, rain, and sleet for another cross country meet. Resultingly, I started feeling sick again on Thursday night during my night shift at work. However, another good chunk of sleep afterwards made me feel a lot better by the time I woke up on Friday afternoon. I was scheduled for a long run on Friday, and I went through with it then simply because there is no other time to do it this week. Unfortunately, this also meant running in a snowstorm when I wasn't feeling perfect. However, I did it, and I was, again, feeling sick by the time Friday night's shift ended. More sleep and a lovely rest day from running today has made me feel lots better, but I feel that the battle isn't quite over, yet.
So, my long run. It was snowing and very windy. I ran due north for the first half of the long run, straight into the wind and snow. That felt good, real good. Actually, it hurt, a lot. Stinging snow crystals on my face and stuff. My attire included a hat, 2 shirts, a vest, gloves, and tights. How sad is that? The way back home was joyful, though, being pushed along by the wind. I had a choice with 2 miles left to go. Do I go right, up, over, and down a big hill? Or, do I go left, down a totally flat trail? I went right, and worked hard both up and down that hill, putting in a solid 2-mile effort at the end of at least 18 miles of running. It felt good to work hard and feel that good at the end of a long run. However, it felt even better to climb into my car and turn the heat on, so lovely.
My home has been damaged by a bull elk. My neighbor's car has also been damaged by the same elk. There are a number of trees in our yards that have also been mangled by the big guy. He went on a testosterone-induced rampage on Thursday night when another bull elk pulled off a successful maneuver and stole the aforementioned elk's harem of ladies. The resulting outpouring of physical and mental frustration was quite comical to witness from the safety of inside my house. It's gotta be tough to be a bull elk.
Posted by Meghan at 6:39 PM | Comments (1)
September 20, 2006
Try Harder
If at first you act like a wimp, then just try harder.
There was no excuse for my childish, wimpy behavior today. The workout was rather simple, a 3 mile hill climb at tempo effort. I have previously done this workout several times on a forest service road with a steady, well-graded, uphill climb. I decided it was time to graduate to doing this workout on a trail, with the increased challenges of a steeper grade, variable undulations, and uneven surfaces.
I had almost psyched myself out on the warmup, a 10 minute uphill jog. I felt physically off from the get-go; I let my mind wrap itself too strongly around that thought, instead of letting my body warm up and feel better. Once I reached the trailhead, I started the workout. The trail was in a most beautiful setting; it climbed through a high, sagebrush meadow broken up here and there by groves of aspen trees whose leaves had turned various shades of yellow, orange, and red. Around a corner up the trail, I encountered an elk carcass, a likely dinner for a bear a month or so ago. Even though this carcass was very old, I began to get nervous about wildlife, furthering my workout pysche-out. Around yet another corner, there was a second elk carcass, newer but at least a few weeks old. Once I saw this second carcass, any determination to work hard disintegrated into wimpy fearfulness. The trail passed through two aspen groves, and you should have seen how wigged out I was going through those with their limited visibility! All my shouting at non-existent predators and unneccessary fearfulness even made my dog look back at me curiously.
After 3 miles, this trail intersects a forest service logging road, and I couldn't have been happier to reach the road. My heart rate was so high, but it wasn't from working at a tempo effort, it was from feeling very wimpy.
It was a 40 minute downhill jaunt via forest service road back to my car. In that time, I managed to get angry at myself for acting ridiculously and performing poorly. Also in that time, I began to psyche myself up to do the hill climb again, and I refueled with some Gatorade and a Gu along the way as well.
Once I reached the lower trailhead, I headed uphill at tempo effort. This time around, I climbed strongly. I listened to my breathing, deep, even, and controlled. I focused on my quad muscles, lifting my knees up high with each step. I noticed my arms, driving forward with determination and fluidity. I smelled the unmistakable scent that sagebrush exudes when you brush up against it. I remarked to myself that the aspen trees were beautiful in their fall colors. I watched their multi-colored leaves quake as I ran through those 2 aspen groves. I reached the top of the trail at the forest service road and I felt good, damn good.
It was 30 minutes by trail or 40 minutes by road back to my car, and so I took the shortest route back down. By the time I made it back to my car, I had long run out of fuel and the proverbial engines were running on empty. But I was still feeling like I had tried much harder the second time around.
Posted by Meghan at 5:03 PM | Comments (0)
September 18, 2006
Shock Therapy
There is nothing like welcoming winter in with a big, fat, shocking bang. Hello? Inches of snow? Was that really necessary? It's over now; the snow has retreated back up to the mountain tops, temperatures have warmed, and the sun has decided to shine again. However, I know it's never going to get truly hot again this year. Friday evening brought in a weather system that blanketed much of southern Montana and northern Wyoming with variable quantities and qualities of snow. By Saturday morning, the storm had just barely set in and was rearing up for some good fun.
Meanwhile, my cross country team suffered through this storm and ran a great race despite the weather conditions. A few even set solid PRs. These kids are true troopers and weathering this nasty storm with success just solidifies this idea.
Me, on the other hand, I just whined my way through the weekend feeling sorry for myself that winter is coming whether I like it or not. Additionally, and perhaps as a result of standing outside in snow for 5 hours, I woke up on Sunday morning feeling quasi-sick with a sore throat and a low-grade fever. I fought that off with staying warm, lots of sleep, echinacea, and vitamin C; today I feel fine. However, this past weekend has not left a great taste in my mouth over the impending season change.
I will admit, though, that Montana was beautiful and quiet underneath a thin blanket of that fluffy white stuff. And, I'm enjoying my first opportunities at cozying up to the heating stove in my house. And, I'm pulling out sweaters and sweatshirts that I haven't seen in 6 months and it feels like a new wardrobe. And, I want to take up snowshoe running this winter, so I'm anxious for some snow to try this new sport out. There, I said it, the approaching winter is not that bad.
On other more running-related notes, I feel completely recovered from my marathon. That is, with the exception of the toenail that just isn't going to survive, despite my efforts at caring for it. I ran roughly 25 miles the first week after the race, all easy and with a short long run. During the second week I did roughly 40 miles with no long run and 1 workout. This week I will be back to normal with perhaps about 60 miles with a long run and 2 workouts. I have stopped logging miles ran, though, so these are just guestimates. Rather, I'm tracking time-on-feet.
I've done 2 workouts since the race. I felt a little weak and stiff during the first one last week. In today's workout, I felt solid all the way through, and it was a tough one. I did a warmup and cooldown on a rolling forest service road. Then I did the workout on a forest service road that climbed up into a beautiful and steep canyon. I did this in the early evening, and so I got to watch the sun fade to gold and then orange on the tops of the canyon walls. The sunset provided a great distraction to this painful endeavor.
I may have mentioned that there are only a few local runners around here, and I think I know of nearly all of them. Today I saw a young-ish guy (post-college perhaps?) running in this canyon; he was gliding downhill as I was gasping for breath while running the workout uphill. I had no idea of who he was, whether a tourist or a local. His form told everything, though. He was a talented runner and I wanted to know who he was. Too bad I couldn't manage anything but a pained half smile as we passed. In addition to another runner, I saw moose tracks and bear scat, but happily none of the animals belonging to those.
Posted by Meghan at 9:13 PM | Comments (2)
September 12, 2006
Reason #262...
...for why I should not be allowed out in public:
It was a lovely afternoon for a trail run, sunny and not a cloud in the sky. Rather hot, but I didn't care, since it had snowed and sleeted on me three days ago and there are cold-weather predictions looming around tomorrow's corner. As such, I was appropriately dressed in as little clothes as possible to enjoy one of the last hot days of the year.
I was bounding along a trail, feeling strong and happy when I met up with a group of hikers. It was a small group of young men, all obviously younger than me, but nice eye candy in any case. As we passed, one guy said, "Nice abs!" and I was appropriately flattered. Perhaps then my general happiness to be out on a trail run combined with the effects of his compliment caused me to forget to mind my footing.
About 26.5 steps after I passed those guys, I noticed a rock in the middle of the trail. However, I noticed it too late and tripped right over it. Those this happened instantly, it seemed to proceed in slow motion. There was no doubt that I was going to fall, I hit that rock hard and was headed face first into the ground. I managed to lean left, so as to go down on my right side rather than going down head first. I hit first with my right shoulder, next with my right hip, and then I came sliding to a stop using the flesh of my butt. Luckily, I landed in dirt, rather than rocks, roots, or the various assortment of other trail surfaces that could have done permanent damage.
I was stunned, so I sat there on the trail assessing the damage. At the same time, the gaggle of young men who had previously dished a very nice compliment approached to see how I had fared my tumble. I was covered in dust, so it was hard to see what was going on. I had a lovely scrape on my shoulder, now skinless and shining bright red with blood, even through the dirt. My hip, covered by my running shorts, had lost no skin. My butt, though, let me tell you! Well, maybe I shouldn't tell you about the huge, nasty, blood and dirt-mixed rasberry that was my lower right butt cheek. It's possibly the most unattractive thing I've ever seen on my own body! I'm going to have bruises in these three places shortly, also.
All in all, I escaped relatively unscathed with only lots of dirt, some lost skin, and a few bruises. All the boys were still standing around me as I gawked at my injuries, including my butt. By this point, I just wanted them to go away! They said a few very nice "buck-up"-type comments and then we parted ways. I was so embarassed.
This is why I shouldn't be allowed out in public.
Posted by Meghan at 6:21 PM | Comments (4)
September 10, 2006
A Short Long Run in SNOW!
My recovery is going really well. I did a very short long run, only 90 minutes on forest service logging roads, and almost felt like myself again.
I was very much looking forward to this run. Previous to this, I had gone a few days with little sleep due to work emergencies and coaching responsibilities (Try about 4 hours of sleep in a 44-hour time period. Ouch.). I got off work at 6 am this morning and shut off everything that could interrupt my sleep, including pagers, phones, and alarms, so that I could sleep until I was well-rested. When I woke up this afternoon, I felt great, and I headed out to run.
This run was an out-and-back, all uphill on the way out, all downhill on the way back. I felt solid and strong from the get-go on the way uphill. I was a little pokey on the downhill return, as I was feeling still a bit stiff and creaky. Excepting this stiffness, I felt nearly recovered.
Possibly only slightly more interesting than my bantering about the level of leg creakiness that I'm still feeling might be a paragraph or two of bantering about the weather and how I felt about it. As I parked my car, some gray clouds were organizing themselves and a few drops of rain were falling. The temperatures were hovering at perhaps 65 degrees. I assessed my clothing, running shorts, sports bra, and a cotton t-shirt, and decided to ditch the t-shirt. I decided it would make me wetter and colder whenever the skies decided to burst open, which I knew they shortly would.
As time went by, the raindrops grew more frequent. It was officially raining at this point, and I was officially soaked to the bone. As I climbed higher, it got colder and sleet pellets were being integrated into the mess. Still higher, snow flurries (Yes, I did write that, there was snow falling from the sky.)! I was elated when it was time to turn around and head downhill, as I had no desire to see what was going on with the weather even higher. However, I was warm on the ascent, working hard, and it didn't feel that bad. Going downhill was painfully cold, my thighs got numb, my hands got stiff, the skin on my arms tingled with chilliness. This was apparently just a little taste of what the next 7+++ months of my running life are going to be like.
I got back to my car and turned on the heater! It felt so good! Then I drove back downhill to 5300 feet elevation in Gardiner where it was warm, sunny, and it hadn't even rained! There, I went into my favorite coffee shop and my friends looked strangely at my drowned-rat appearance. Most of these folks are long-time locals, and they weren't at all surprised to hear about the snow up high. Instead, they were more surprised at my lack of preparedness to deal with the elements. They are definitely right. It ain't summer around here anymore.
Posted by Meghan at 7:22 PM | Comments (3)
September 7, 2006
Puttering Along
Do you recall when you were a kid, learning how to drive a manual transmission? It took all the concentration in the world to successfully navigate a stop sign or a slow turn without any number of embarassing results, including stalling out in the middle of the road. Stalling out happens even today, even to the best of us. You get a little inattentive, or you're trying to do seventeen other things besides driving, and you come dangerously close to that infamous stall-out. Which of course inevitably happens in front of someone you know or an attractive person of the opposite sex.
That's me. I feel embarassingly close to stalling out, however unintentional. Two recovery runs in the books this week, and I can only call what I was doing out there puttering along. 30 minutes yesterday and 60 minutes today on trails. I'm stiff. This stiffness is most evident going downhill. To be perfectly honest, going downhill hurts. Running uphill and on the flats actually feels good, though, so I'll take my small victories where I can get them.
It's fall here in Yellowstone. I can't deny it anymore. The elk have wandered into the grassy plazas of Mammoth Hot Springs, my home base. It's a rather exciting scene currently. The females come here with their calves because we keep the grass green. Elsewhere nearby, the depths of later summer drought have browned anything that isn't artificially irrigated. What I'm saying is that there's good food here.
Because all the female and young elk are here, the big bulls, with their 5-point, 6-point, and occasional 7-point antler racks, also show up. They come here to duke it out with the other males, to form their respective harems of females with which they breed. The male elk stomp around with gusto. They sharpen their racks on trees. They charge tourists and their cars if the tourists approach too close. They duel with other bull elk. This is the elk rut. The female elk are in heat, and the male elk are resultingly ravaged with testosterone. I guess it's not all that different from the rest of the animal kingdom, but being in the middle of it all is quite interesting.
The most notable thing that the bull elk do is that they bugle. A bugle is a guttural noise that begins from deep within the chect cavity. It comes out sounding hollow, ghost-like, and powerful. Males bugle at each other as they stake out territory and their female claims. From late afternoon to early morning, the bugling goes on, and on, and on. In the Mammoth area, there are about 4 bull elk who take turns bugling through the night. At this stage in the fall, it sounds wonderful. The sound reaches a pitch that just gets to you in the strangest way, makes you feel the bugling inside your own chest cavity. As the season progresses on, the persistent bugling will wear on most of us, and I will tire of hearing it, especially if I'm trying to sleep. The noise is unreal and almost indescribable. It's about as influential as hearing a lion roar, a wolf howl, or a zebra bark.
Posted by Meghan at 8:18 PM | Comments (4)
September 5, 2006
The Grand Teton Trail Marathon
Sometimes I wonder how I have been blessed with such an awesome, lucky, superb, outstanding life. I pondered that thought over and over this weekend, and I'm unsure if I'll ever come to a conclusion. Until then, I will fairly recognize this gift and, quite literally in this case, run with it.
The Teton Trail Races were held this weekend at the Grand Targhee Ski Resort, which is planted on the east side of the Teton Mountains, just below the Grand Teton, the range's most prominent mountain. Here, the mountains protrude abruptly into thin air and the canyons dig deep into the earth. The area is rugged and wild, laced gently with just a few signs of human existence. More like, this part of the world, thank goodness, has been left alone by humans, a place for that which is wild to be free.
The Teton Races consist of a 100-mile, 50-mile and marathon events that travel through trails at the ski resort and elsewhere in the adjacent Targhee National Forest. The ultra-distance races began on Saturday morning, and lasted until they were finished. The marathon was held on Sunday morning. The marathon course was rugged, steep, and challenging. There was nothing easy about it, but also nothing impossible either. I loved every minute of it.
I entered this race with very open and undefined expectations. In short, I merely wanted to go out there and work as hard as I could given the conditions and my level of fitness. The one thing I went into the race with was a good plan for hydration and nutrition, as I suspected that I would be out there for a long time.
When the race started at 7:00 on Sunday morning, it was a fine, supa-fine morning. The sky was clear and the temperatures perfect for racing. The first 3 or so miles of the race features an 1800 feet or so elevation gain from the base of the ski resort to the mountain's summit. The climb was steep, and most people alternated running and hiking, depending on the trail's grade. I climbed to the summit steadily and in control. My legs and lungs felt perfect, and I summited as the second woman. I was within 50 yards of the first woman for the whole climb, and I believe I pressured her up the hill. I kept seeing her sneak glances at me as we climbed. I was confident that I my presence was making her work hard, and I hoped this would fatigue her quickly. As we reached the summit at 9800 feet above sea level, the sun was climbing over the mountains and it was an outstanding view. I believe I summited at around 38 minutes into the race.
I took in the scenery in snatched glances as I began the steep downhill back to the ski area base. Mostly I watched the first woman literally disappear below me. That woman had some serious downhill running skills. I dared not keep up, as I had been warned by more experienced trail runners that the downhills are what will trash your legs first. So I treaded lightly, taking soft steps in long strides down the hill. This uphill and downhill overlapped for much of the way, so I got a good view of just how close the third woman was behind me. Despite the mental pressures of her behind me and downhill running girl flying off into the distance in front of me, I managed to continue running my own race. I sipped about 10 ounces of Gatorade from the water bottle I was carrying and ate a Gu on my way back down the hill. The third woman and I arrived into the base station of the ski area at the same time. We were now about 7 miles into the race. I think I arrived here at about 1:10 into the race.
During the race, we passed through this base station several times, so we were allowed to keep a drop bag of sorts there. I kept a small cooler with bottle refills, Gu's, and a few assorted snacks. As I passed through the base station, I swapped bottles for a full 16 ounces of Gatorade, 2 Gu's, a baggie of powdered Gatorade, and a baggie of chocolate-covered espresso beans (Incidentally, I trained a bit with these, and now I have found that chocolate-covered espresso beans are THE BEST long distance racing snack. I'm a believer!). I left the base station just moments behind the woman I came into the station with, which put me in third place for the women.
There was a moderate climb for about a mile as the trail clmbed from the base station over a ridge. This whole climb was runable, albeit at a slow pace. During this climb, the woman in front of me climbed with great strength, and I spent only a short time trying to maintain her pace. I reminded myself to run my own race, and she promptly disappeared in front of me.
Once I crested the ridge and she was out of sight, I ran the next 8 miles all alone. The first 5 miles of so was a steady descent through Teton Canyon. It was a gorgeous portion of the course, I loved it. Here, I sipped Gatorade, ate a Gu at some point, and munched on espresso beans. I began to feel fatigue in the muscles in the top of my butt, those muscles that do stabilizing on descents. Besides this, I felt strong and in control. The course empties out of Teton Canyon at a paved road, at the next aid station. I have no idea what my time was when I flew past this aid station. However, I was still well-stocked, so I simply did the mandatory check-in and headed on.
The next 2.5 or so miles was a steady climb on a paved road. This was my most unfavorite portion of the course. However beautiful the views were with the mountains in full view all around me, it was tough running uphill on pavement. During this climb, some guy caught me and subsequently passed me a few miles later. I also began to feel the first waves of fatigue in this section. Despite this, I was buoyed by the fact that the one of the women who was in front of me (the speedy downhill woman) was now back in view and at a reachable distance.
Once the pavement climb was over, the course re-entered Teton Canyon and began climbing up it again. At this junction, about 16 miles into the race, there was another aid station. At this point, I had drank all 16 ounces of Gatorade, so I emptied the powdered stuff I was carrying into my bottle and filled it with water at the aid station. I still had one of my Gu's, and I grabbed another fromt he aid station as I powered through, as an emergency ration should stuff hit the fan in the next climb. The visible woman in front of me caught sight of me as she was refueling at the aid station. She made quick work of the aid station and set off on the trail a short distance in front of me. I can't recall what my time was when I went through this aid station.
I felt truly fatigued on this climb back up Teton Canyon. It lasted about 4 miles (in addition to the 2.5 miles of pavement climbing that we had just done) and climbed perhaps 1500 feet. Much of it was runable, and some of it hike-able. Mentally, I began to hit a lull, realizing that there were still many miles to go. Though I was feeling physically and mentally challenged, I began to catch sight of 3 people on the trail in front of me, 2 guys and the aforementioned girl. It seemed that they had packed up together and were pushing each other along. I made up the distance between myself and them very quickly, and I decided to initiate a powerful pass, hoping that none of them would go with me. I passed hard and kept surging up the trail. I surged hard for about 5 minutes or so before I got up the courage to sneak a glance behind me to see who was there. No one was within sight, I had successfully dropped them all and put myself back into second place, all while I thought I was tired. This buoyed me mentally, which buoyed me physically, and I topped out of Teton Canyon pretty quickly. From there, it was a 1 mile or so descent back into the base station of the ski resort. On this portion of the race, I ate a Gu and drank about 8 ounces of Gatorade. I arrived back to the base station at around 4 hours into the race, at about mile 21.
In the base station, I swapped out for a full bottle of Gatorade and 2 Gu's, and headed back out for the final 5 or so miles of the race. This portion of the course was the least steep. In fact, it mostly rolled along through the hills of a wide basin. The trail was somewhat difficult to follow, and I wondered a few times if I was going the right way. By this point, it was starting to get warm, and there were only sparse aspen groves in the basin for shade. I began to feel the heat, and so I drank a fair bit of Gatorade. During this part of the race, I was tired but I forged forward. At one point, two dark figures caught my attention off to the right, and I turned my head to see a mother moose and her calf. I was nervous as I was close to them and mother moose are infamous for charging in protection of their calves. However, they only stared and me and I stared at them as I went by. I also ate a Gu with only about 3 miles to go in the race. I'm not sure why, because I knew I was doing okay. Somehow, I felt that the heat and fatigue might make me feel bad. It never did, and the Gu didn't seem to hurt anything either.
I came into the finish line at the base station of the ski area at 4:56-ish, finishing second among the women. I felt fatigued, but happy, very happy. 5000 feet up, 5000 feet down, and 26.2 miles forward through the Teton Mountains. Not too shabby of a day.
In the aftermath, my butt muscles are shot. They are going to need some recovery time. I'm sore and stiff, but able to move and function. I also purpled my right big toenail, but I was shown a way to drain the fluid from underneath (Ultrarunners have an abundance of information with regards to thing like this!). It is taking diligent work to drain the fluid from beneath that toenail 3 times a day, but it relieves the highly uncomfortable pressure and perhaps I might not lose the toenail afterall. Oh well, if I do, sandal season is over and the snow might fall anytime now. Hah.
What's on tap this week? Recovery, recovery, recovery. After that? There's more.
Posted by Meghan at 8:30 PM | Comments (5)
September 4, 2006
Initiation Rites
I just wrote up what was supposed to be an entertaining recap of this weekend's adventure, but it disappeared when I tried to post it. I'm tired, and I'm going to sleep, so here's the mini-rundown:
I'm taking a break from draining fluid from beneath my right big toenail to write this up. Writing this blog entry is also an excuse for me to sit comfortably in one place for a period of time so as to not have to use any of those muscles that could still launch into involuntary spasms. You think I'm kidding, right?
I ran the Grand Teton Trail Marathon. I cannot feel the muscles in my ass today. I also cannot wait to do another long trail race. It was hard. I felt great. I saw a mother moose and her calf while racing. I climbed 5000 vertical feet and descended the same in 26.2 miles. It took me 4:56-plus. I never bonked. I felt tired at one point, but managed to pass 3 people while I was supposedly feeling tired, which sort of negated the tired feeling. I'm sad it's over now. I was the second woman. There were ultra events going on at the same time, and those people are amazing, jaw-dropping hard core. This series of events is super cool with an awesome support system and an awesome atmosphere, I highly recommend it.
I think this means I've successfully completed the initiation rites into long distance trail racing.
Okay, I'm going to waddle off to bed now.
Posted by Meghan at 9:59 PM | Comments (4)