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November 30, 2006
Grand Canyon Photos
The Bright Angel Trail somewhere between Mile 4.5 and Mile 8. The white cliffs at the very top of the photo is the South Rim, some 3000+ vertical feet above. I took this photo very early in the morning, before dawn.
This bridge is on the North Kaibab Trail, perhaps 5 miles below the North Rim. It crosses just a tiny canyon that is lost amongst the many canyons of the Grand Canyon. In this photo, we're descending from the North Rim, it's just after noon, and my running partner is crossing the bridge.
The Grand Canyon in all of her entirety. This photo was taken the day after our run from a viewpoint along the South Rim. Our route isn't in the photo, but you can see the Colorado River in the bottom of the canyon.
Posted by Meghan at 12:09 PM | Comments (6)
November 29, 2006
Week of November 27th
Monday- rest (tourists in Arizona)
Tuesday- rest (travel home)
Wednesday- 1. 20 minutes flat and easy, farm roads in Victor, ID; 2. 45 minutes yoga; 3. core
Thursday- 1. 45 minutes hilly and easy, Eagle Creek Road; 2. 45 minutes yoga; 3. core
Friday- 1. 45 minutes hilly and easy, Old Gardiner Road; 2. lifting (arms only, still resting legs)
Saturday- 1. 45 minutes flat and easy; farm roads in Victor, ID
Sunday- rest from running; 1. 45 minutes easy spinning on the bike trainer; 2. lifting (arms only); 3. yoga 45 minutes; 4. core
I believed myself ready to run on Wednesday and set out for a very, very easy hour or so. Only 10 minutes from home it became very clear that my calves weren't ready to run, even after 3 full days of rest. They burned and felt as if they were going to snap away from my Achilles tendons. The calves felt much, much better on Thursday. The aforementioned burn didn't show up until about 40 minutes into the run, and I quit running when it happened. Yoga isn't comfortable at the moment: the muscle stretching is necessary and welcomed, but it is showing me just how messed up my body is. I ran on a completely flat route on Saturday, and my calves felt better than running on hills. It became clear to me, though, that my legs needed more rest. So I took Sunday off from running, but I spun on the bike trainer because this didn't cause any calf tightness. I'm hoping that this very restful recovery week will allow me to return to full-fledged training next week!
Posted by Meghan at 8:26 PM | Comments (1)
And The Canyon Was Grand
The following is a report of our Grand Canyon Rim to Rim to Rim run. This report is excruciatingly long, but I feel I have been somewhat brief. It was just a long, long trip. Also, please pardon the grammatical mistakes, spelling errors, and free-for-all use of tenses in this rough report. If you decide to read it all, grab a snack or a cup of coffee, sit back and enjoy.
Pre-run:
We (myself and a friend) descended from the South Rim via the Bright Angel Trail (roughly 10 miles long with just under 5000 vertical feet elevation change) and ascended to the North Rim via the North Kaibab Trail (roughly 14 miles long with just under 6000 vertical feet elevation change). Then we repeated the process for the return trip.
The night before running, we camped in the Mather Campground at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. It was a cold but perfectly clear night, so we slept without a tent, watching the stars as we fell asleep. I slept decently, though I wasn’t ever cozy or very warm. We woke up at 4:45 am, with the goal of being on trail by 5:30 am. I was wide awake the minute the alarm went off, but it was very hard to climb out into the cold, still nighttime air. We guessed it was about 20 degrees F.
My breakfast was a bagel and most of a Starbucks Frappucino (One should never embark on such an ordeal without a caffeine fix beforehand.) I filled my Camelbak with about 50 ounces of Gatorade and about 3000 calories worth of food (6 Gu packets, 3 Clif bars, 2 Balance bars, more powdered Gatorade, a small bag of salted cashews, and a bag of trail mix). Drinking water was available on the trail at various points, and we would never have to carry more than 2 liters of water at once.
Our plan was to just run as much as we could run, and hike that which we were unable to run. We originally had incremental time goals, but we threw them out the door immediately. These time goals were based on studying maps and best guesses of how fast we’d travel certain segments of the trail. Some areas of the trail were quite technical and slow to travel, and others were smooth and easy to travel. In the end, we ran by feel rather than time, and I’m very happy with this decision.
Mile 0 to Mile 4.5:
Miles 0 to 4.5 passed very slowly. It was dark and the trail was filled with huge, ankle-breaking rocks. We traveled carefully by the light of our headlamps, switchbacking down into the darkness of the night. I couldn’t see a thing beyond the halo of my headlamp, but I could very much sense that there was an abyss, always there in front of me. Quite frankly, it made me feel very small.
At Mile 4.5, there was finally some pre-dawn light. By now, we had already passed several groups of people climbing out of the canyon; we had descended nearly 3000 feet; and, we passed by the Indian Springs Backcountry Campground. As it became light, the views were absolutely astounding: I was, indeed, inside of the Grand Canyon.
Mile 4.5 to Mile 10:
From Mile 4.5, the trail gets less steep, and descends through a canyon (one of thousands within the Grand Canyon itself) with a tiny stream that we would hop across from time to time. Somewhere around Mile 8, the trail dumps you abruptly at the Colorado River, the very bottom of the Grand Canyon. It’s impossible to fathom that you are in the bottom of the Grand Canyon, as there are so many layers of rock it seems you are only at the bottom of a much smaller canyon.
Miles 8 to 10 include a sandy portion of trail that skirts along a cliff above the Colorado River and a crossing of the Colorado River via a huge steel bridge. The river was loud as you crossed over it, and I was energized by the power of the water moving beneath me.
At about Mile 10 is the Bright Angel Backcountry Campground and Phantom Ranch. We made a brief stop here to refill our Camelbaks (I refilled to 2 liters and mixed it with Gatorade powder.), hide some now uneeded clothes in bushes to pick up on the return trip, and chat momentarily with (and pass) a group of 4 doing the same Rim to Rim to Rim trip we were (They were 3 men and 1 woman.).
At this point, I felt great. I was running in a tank top and running shorts and it was perhaps 45 degrees F. The sun was hitting the canyon walls thousands of feet above us, and the morning sky was a cloudless aquamarine. I could feel the descent in my legs, but nothing felt bad. Mostly, I just felt at peace.
Mile 10 to Mile 17:
This portion of the trail was my favorite, both on the trip out and the return trip. On the way out, it’s a gradual ascent, first through a tight canyon containing a fast-flowing stream. Every so often, you cross the creek via some sturdy little bridges. Then the terrain opens up into a wider valley and you continue to ascend. Here, the whole Grand Canyon opens around you, the South Rim behind you, the North Rim in front of you, and everything in between all around. In these moments, I had my first tangible realization of what was occurring, and I’m sure my eyes got really big. Mile 17 brings you to the Cottonwood Backcountry Campground.
Mile 17 to Mile 24:
From here, it’s about 7 miles to the North Rim with a 4500 foot ascent. That is, the trail gets instantly steeper. We were able to run the first 3 miles out of Cottonwood Campground pretty easily, then the trail just got steep and we just hiked as hard as we could. Here, we encountered a man doing a 95 mile run through the trails of the Grand Canyon. When we met up with him, he was on Mile 88 or so. He was vastly interesting to chat with for a few minutes, so we indulged.
Miles 20 to 24 were my bad miles. My body was beginning to feel fatigued and the gravity of the situation became real. My calves began to hurt here. I could hardly believe that, after climbing to the North Rim, I was going to repeat the whole process again. My mind was psyched out. I spent this time trying to divert my mind, thinking about sandy beaches, stacks of blueberry pancakes, and anything enticing enough to distract me from reality. In these miles, we also met up with 2 other Rim to Rim to Rim runners (2 guys) coming down from the North Rim as we were still climbing up.
I never thought we’d actually reach the North Rim. However, we did. We hugged each other for a moment, but reaching the halfway point of this run was otherwise low key. There, I assessed my situation and realized that my liquid and food intake had dropped off, and perhaps this was the reason for my funk. I guzzled some Gatorade and ate some food, and we were off downhill. It was about 40 degrees F or so on the North Rim.
Mile 24 to Mile 31:
This was the steep descent off the North Rim and back to Cottonwood Campground. I was again a happy camper. We fell off the North Rim like tumbleweeds blowing across west Texas, in a nearly effortless descent. I felt awesome and we were laughing and having fun. Here, we crossed paths with what was left of the Rim to Rim to Rim running group that we had passed at Mile 10, just 2 of the guys. They were climbing up to the North Rim as we were coming down. The other 2 of their party had turned around.
Somewhere around Mile 29 was a water spigot at a building, and we refilled with water here. I put about 50 ounces in, and mixed it with Gatorade. (I had not refilled here on the way up as I was distracted by the 95 Mile Runner Guy. I regret that miss.)
Once we returned to Cottonwood Campground at Mile 31, I entered into new mileage territory. I hadn’t run anything longer than a 50K prior to this run. Amazingly, I still felt great.
Mile 31 to Mile 38:
Again, this was my favorite part of the trail. First, a gradual descent through the wide-open valley, then a similarly gradual descent through the tight canyon with the stream. I was fatigued at this point, but still able to run with ease because of the gentle downhill grade. Mile 38 brought us back to Phantom Ranch and the Bright Angel Backcountry Campground. We again refilled with water. I put in 50 more ounces of water, enough for the 10 mile climb to the South Rim, and mixed it with the last of my Gatorade powder. We also picked up our stowed warm clothes and headed uphill. Here at the bottom of the canyon, it was the warmest temperatures of the day, perhaps 60 degrees F.
Mile 38 to Mile 43.5:
Here is where mental strength began to be a necessary quality. I was tired; it was all uphill from here; it was late in the day. We ran as much as we could. By now it was a slow run because of fatigue and the uphill grade. However, there was something mentally boosting about running, albeit at whatever slow pace. The more we ran, the better I felt. We agreed to cover as much ground at we could before dark, and this hastened our uphill climb.
Mile 43.5 returned us to the Indian Springs Backcountry Campground. Though we only passed by it quietly, it smelled wonderfully of backpackers’ dinners and we were instantly ravenous. As we ran, we conjured up ways to steal food without being noticed, and we talked about what we would eat when we made it to the top.
Mile 43.5 to Mile 48:
By now, it was dark again. There were dots of flashlights on the trail above us, switchbacking into the nighttime sky. I focused on catching each light, one by one. We had been passing groups of hikers all day, but for some reason, this energized me and gave me something to which I could direct my mental energies. Here, we intermixed running with hiking. Admittedly, we hiked a lot more than we ran, as this was the steepest portion of the ascent.
You could see the lights of the developed area on the South Rim about 500 vertical feet and 1.5 miles before you actually arrived there. That distance was truly interminable. But somehow it ended, and we were standing on pavement, off the trail, at the South Rim. Here, we celebrated with big smiles, a little ackward dancing (Yes, you can still dance after running 48 miles.), some photos, and hugs.
Post-run:
We scurried to the car as it was below freezing and windy and we were skimpily dressed runners. Sitting in the car, we snacked on bagels and dinner leftovers from the night before. When we thought we had abated hunger enough that we wouldn’t eat our own arms, we drove to the hotel. After a long, hot shower and a liter of Gatorade, I was instantly unconscious. I was so tired I didn’t even eat dinner!
My calves were unbelievably sore the next day. The rest of me was sore and fatigued, but not handicappingly sore like my calves. My calves would instantly break into cramps in the middle of a slow hobble, causing me to cry out in pain. We spent the next day being tourists, seeing the sights of the South Rim. At one point, I was walking next to an elderly lady on the way to a public restroom. Let’s just say that she beat me there, by a lot. Despite our various physical agonies, we rode the mental high of a new accomplishment just barely under our belts all day long.
That night, I woke up feeling absolutely horrible. I felt fatigue so deep that my bones ached. I couldn’t sleep for several hours during the night because the full-body aching was so intense. However, the next morning, the second morning post-run, I felt much, much better. My calf-hobbling pace had increased somewhat, and movement was much less painful.
This endeavor was not a walk in the park. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done (The only thing that could possibly rate higher was summiting Mt. Kilimanjaro.). I’ve left out much of the suffering. I didn’t mention that, at one point, I was coughing so hard from the effort that I almost threw up. I didn’t mention that in during Mile 20 to 24, I told my friend about 6 times during a mini-temper tantrum that I was going to quit at the North Rim. I also didn't mention that the nighttime bone aching post-run was so intense that I cried.
Despite these (and other still unmentioned) things, it was also a life-altering experience. My friend and I became so much closer as we worked together through the day. We made a rather intangible idea an entirely tangible accomplishment. Most importantly, I showed myself that I am capable of much, much more than I ever thought (My blog’s header could never feel more true than right now.).
By the way, I don’t have a single foot issue. No blisters, no black toenails. I thank my Wright socks and Montrail Hardrock shoes for that.
**EDIT 12/4/06: I just realized that I neglected to mention how long this took. Our total time out was 13:10. We hit the trail on the South Rim at exactly 5:52 am on Saturday, November 24th. We arrived at the Colorado River at about 8:05 am. We topped out at the North Rim somewhere between noon and 12:30 pm. I have no recollection of what time we arrived back to the Colorado River for the second time. We completed the journey back at the South Rim just a few minutes after 7 pm.**
Posted by Meghan at 7:18 PM | Comments (8)
November 22, 2006
Virtuous Patience
"Adopt the pace of nature; her secret is patience." -Ralph Waldo Emerson
For several miles in my most recent race, I ran within earshot of two people engaged in conversation. At one point, they paraphrased and discussed the above Emerson quote. They equated patience with being slow in reference to long-distance running. They said, nature's processes, like the changing seasons or evolution, are very slow to occur. So, they said, if we humans proceed slowly, we will be successful in an event like a 50K race.
I'm momentarily lacking much patience myself, as a pipe burst in my house yesterday (again, this also happened to a different pipe during the summer) and my basement was flooded in a few inches of water that had a broken skim of ice floating on top. The repercussions of this mess were many and unfortunate: everything in the basement is wet or damp; the water was shut off to my house; I spent much time trying to clean up in the miserable, barely above-freezing temperatures in my basement. Things seem to be more in control today than yesterday; however, I'm still lacking in the patience department.
Anyways, back to the idea of nature and patience. A few weeks ago while I was running and letting my mind wander aimlessly, it settled back into Emerson's quote. Sadly, an old Guns N' Roses song also simultaneously popped into my head. You know that one, "Patience." Why I can still recall this song's lyrics is beyond me, but the song goes,
...Said, woman, take it slow
And things will be just fine
You and I'll just use a little patience
Said, sugar, take the time...
GNR also equates patience with going slow, this time in reference to the proceedings of some adult extracurricular activities. However, I do not think that Emerson (And, really, who cares what GNR thought?) meant for us to interpret him in this manner.
That is, some natural processes are, indeed, quite slow. Think about the lifetime of a star: their "births," "lives," and "deaths" take millions and occasionally billions of years. And what about plate tectonics and erosion? It took a few dozen million years to push the Rocky Mountains up into the sky, and it'll take a lot longer for them to tumble back down again. However, some natural processes occur very quickly. What about the movements of a hummingbird's wing, or the speed at which a cheetah moves across the savannah? A hummingbird's wing moves so fast that humans cannot discern a single wingbeat in real time, and the Thompson's gazelle being dragged into the shade of a tree for consumption might be able to describe its predator's, a cheetah's, speed as fairly fast, were it still alive to to do.
I believe that Emerson meant to equate patience with perseverence, adaptation, perpetuation, and endurance, rather than slow speed. Regardless of the speed of its processes, nature has continued, albeit in a changing manner, for billions of years. And, I kind of think that it's going to continue in this way indefinitely. When a meteorite struck the earth and effectively instigated an obtuse (and theoretical) extinction event that wiped out the dinosaurs and welcomed the mammals, the face of nature changed, but it also continued. When humans began their indulgent and aggressive manuevers in nature, such the that thing called the Industrial Revolution, nature changed, but also continued. In reference to the human life, I believe Emerson was trying to teach us the value of nature's characteristics. If we humans can manage to persevere, adapt, perpetuate, and endure through our own lives, we are more likely to be successful.
Here's the point at which I relate this to running (Yeah, you probably wondered when/if I was going to make it full-circle with my thoughts.): I think that these ideas may be easily applied to running as well. Throughout our running careers, we will be exposed to a multitude of conditions, like injury, other people, sickness, personal motivation (or lack thereof), life's schedule, fatigue, cold weather, good and bad food, hills, heat, torrential rain, dehydration, races, mud, and etceteras ad nauseum. If we can approach each of these conditions (and, perhaps, our running career as a whole) with an attitude of perseverance, adaptation, perpetuation, and endurance, then we will likely be more successful in our careers. If Emerson were around to chat up about his philosophy and running, I think he might say something like, somedays you run slow and others you run fast, but always be patient like nature.
I'm going to try very hard to take this attitude with me as I run around the Big Hole in the Ground this weekend. I will probably run fast and some point, and I will mostly likely run slow at others. However, I will strive to run patiently.
Posted by Meghan at 5:37 PM | Comments (2)
November 20, 2006
Week of November 20th
Monday- 1. 1:00 easy and hilly, Old Gardiner Road; 2. lifting; 3. core
Tuesday- Unintentional rest from running; 1. 45 minutes spinning on bike trainer; 2. 45 minutes yoga
Wednesday- 1. 1:00-ish rolling, ran 35 minutes out from the trailhead at an easy pace, returned to the trailhead at tempo effort, Yellowstone River Trail; 2. lifting; 3. yoga 45 minutes; 4. core
Thursday- 1:00 hilly and easy, around Mammoth
Friday- rest (travel to Arizona)
Saturday- 48 miles, Rim to Rim to Rim run in the Grand Canyon (South Rim to North Rim and return)
Sunday- rest (tourists in Arizona)
I intend to take it only a little bit easy in the beginning portion of this week, a few less miles each day, to prepare for that looming 48-mile run of this weekend. Tuesday's accidental break from running may be correlated to the accidental break in one of the pipes at my house, which required a lot of hanging out in my basement. Felt good physically at tempo effort on Wednesday. However, my eye-foot coordination wasn't keeping up with my leg speed, and I was tripping on everything in sight!
Posted by Meghan at 6:54 PM | Comments (2)
Nature Porn
At the risk of attracting the wrong types of visitors to my blog, I like this title. This photo is from my recent trail run to Goodwin Lake outside of Jackson, WY. Look at that view!
Posted by Meghan at 6:30 PM | Comments (4)
November 18, 2006
Raising The Bar
As an aside about raising the bar, have you all noticed what's going on over on this blog? I think we should all pay attention, as I'm confident that a professional triathlete is being born. More than anything, Beth's day-in, day-out dedication to her goals is inspiring.
I mentioned in an earlier post that I'm experiencing an upheaval in my running world. Consider it officially upheaved. The previous Grand Plan had me returning right about now to the marathon. This whole trail running/trail racing thing of the summer and fall was originally an effort to do marathon training, including base-building and quality workouts, off pavement and in a creative manner. After recovering from this recent 50K, my original Grand Plan was to spend a chunk of time doing some traditional marathon training, then tapering to a January marathon.
Since the development of the Grand Plan, I learned 2 things: 1.) I like this trail stuff and I'm not neccessarily ready to leave it (even temporarily) yet; and 2.) There is a crazy running opportunity out there that I'm very drawn to. The biggest concern about diverting from the Grand Plan is that I'm unsure if I can do well what I dream of doing. As in, I know I can do it, but am I fit/strong/tough enough to do it well? I have more confidence in the marathon, as I've been there before and I know I can do that.
What to do, what to do? My answer: Don't decide quite yet. More specifically, raise the bar to a midway point between where I know I am in my running ability now and where I think I need to be to do this crazy-way-out-there running thing. If I can run well at this partially elevated level, perhaps I then have the ability to raise the bar even further. This is my logic, in any case.
The tangible manifestation of raising the bar to a midway point is to try to do this. I've learned that most runner-types complete this voyage in anywhere from 10-12 hours. The really speedy types finish in under 9 hours. I also heard about runners taking 15+ hours to finish if things don't go well. I'm not positive that we will make it all the way up to the North Rim, as it is often snow-covered at this time of year. However, we'll go up as far as we can!
I feel that this is fundamentally going to be a challenging run, tougher than anything I've done before. I think that I can do it, but can I do it well? I will have the answer next weekend when I see how I respond to raising the bar like this.
Posted by Meghan at 1:05 PM | Comments (3)
November 17, 2006
Week of November 13th
Monday- 1:00 hilly and easy, Mud Lake Road (Victor, ID)
Tuesday- 1. 1:27 rolling and easy, Teton Canyon Road and Trail (near Driggs, ID); 2. core
Wednesday- 1. 1:20 pushed hard on the uphills, glided on the flats and downhills, Hoodoos Trail; 2. lifting
Thursday-1. 1:23 rolling and easy, Mill Creek Road; 2. leg strength/plyometrics workout; 3. core
Friday- 1. 40 minutes hilly and very, very easy, Lava Creek Trail; 2. 45 minutes yoga
Saturday- 1. 2:00 flat and easy, Yellowstone Railroad Bed Trail and Old Yellowstone Trail; 2. lifting; 3. core
Sunday- 1. 1:10 pushing hard on the uphills, gliding the flats and downhills, Beaver Ponds Trail; 2. yoga 45 minutes
No more recovery. This week is back to the real deal. I made Wednesday's trail run into a workout by running the uphills hard, just below the redlining level, and gliding the flats and downhills to recover. It was a challenging but productive workout. During Thursday's run, I timed some of my miles since a portion of the road was delightfully mile-marked by the forest service. Here is the smattering of miles from throughout the run: 7:51, 7:33, 7:53, 7:47, and 7:36. Friday's run was as close to a rest day as you can get. I intended to run very easy, but it was also so muddy that I could only crawl along the trail. No real long run this week, but that was intentional because there's going to be a REALLY long run next week.
Posted by Meghan at 6:00 PM | Comments (0)
November 16, 2006
A Girl's Gotta Dream
Some people know that my dream is to own a fair chunk of land somewhere out here in the west. I dream that I will be able to someday live simply on my little piece of the world. Mostly, though, I wish to own a little chunk of land for the purpose of land conservation.
Some call this part of our nation the wild, empty, untouched West. While I believe that much western land remains undeveloped and, resultingly, conserved, I also believe that this will change very quickly over the next several decades (It has already changed significantly in the last 20 years.). More developed land will be needed to accommodate our nation's expanding population. The Wild West will most likely be quickly tamed into cities, suburbs, cloverleaf interstate interchanges, Macy's and Bloomingdale's malls, 7-11 and Kum and Go gas stations, and strips of Outback and Olive Garden restaurants.
In the earlier parts of the 20th Century, Theodore Roosevelt and his conservation compadres exhibited tremendous foresight as they placed federal protection on huge chunks of our nation's land. The public scratched their heads at Teddy's aggressive protection maneuvers: there is so much empty land in our nation, why do we need to protect it? Since then, small bits of land here and there have gone under federal (and state) protection for land conservation. The most recent federal land conservation movement occurred during the Clinton Administration when several million western acres, such as the Grand Staircase-Escalante region in Utah, were placed under federal protection.
These days, land conservation has also extended to the private level. Non-profit organizations such as the Nature Conservancy spend millions of dollars annually buying up bits, pieces, and sometimes huge chunks of undeveloped land in the name of land conservation. Individual land buyers are also doing the same thing. Rumor has it that, in local proximity, Tom Brokaw, the Forbes family, Dennis Quaid, Peter Fonda, and Ted Turner all own significant chunks of undeveloped land that will stay that way. And, thousands and thousands of average, non-celebrity people, just in local proximity, own tiny pieces of undeveloped land as well.
Even on the very small level that I will be able to contribute, I wish to someday participate in this communal land conservation effort. For a few hours of time today, this dream was alive and flying. As I was driving to my running location today, I happened upon a 20+/- acre parcel of land that was for sale. I was immediately in love. It shared a boundary with the Gallatin National Forest. It was made up of rolling, sagebrush hills that backed into a tall mountain rising a few thousand feet into the national forest. It was within earshot of Mill Creek, a wide but cascading creek. And, it overlooked the Yellowstone River Valley north of the national park. The views were phenomenal, just as you imagine Montana's big sky country to be.
As I ran, my internal dialogue consisted of conjuring how much I thought the land would cost, the cabin that I would build tucked into the hillside, how I would do my daily runs right here next to Mill Creek, and how 20 more acres of this valley would remain mostly untouched. After running, I returned to the for sale sign, wrote down the broker's name and number, and called him as I was standing right there.
Me: "I'm wondering if you can tell me about the parcel of land that you're selling along Mill Creek."
Him: "Oh yes, it's just beautiful. It backs up into forest service land. The parcel is rolling hills right next to a big mountain. It's mostly grass and sagebrush. You have a 360 degree view. The Yellowstone River is just a few miles away. Did you know that the Yellowstone is a world class fly-fishing river? Would you like to schedule a time to look at it?"
Me: "Actually, I'm standing in front of the land right now. Mostly I'm wondering what the list price is."
Him: "An affordable $699,000."
Me: Gulp. Wimper. "Wow, I had no idea it would be so much. That's out of my price range."
Him: "Perhaps we could schedule a time to meet to discuss a workable price for the both of us?"
Me: "You see, it's not even close to my price range. Thanks for your time."
Then and there, standing in front of the for sale sign, my dream was squished flat. I should have known better. But a girl's gotta dream, right? Perhaps Ted Turner could step in here and help a girl out.
Posted by Meghan at 6:45 PM | Comments (5)
November 15, 2006
Teton Weekending
I intended to play a bit in or near the Teton Mountains last weekend. Turns out, there wasn't too much fun to be had on foot in much of the Tetons due to snow. The first storm rolled through on Saturday, and the second storm on Monday. What we had planned to be a weekend of high altitude play morphed into a weekend of middle altitude play.
The highlights:
Saturday afternoon's run along the Snake River just outside of Jackson, WY, was outstanding. The snow was falling fast and hard, even at that (relatively) low elevation of 6000 or so feet. Visibility was limited to about 100 feet, just enough to spy a bald eagle perched in a tree and a cow moose tucked into a small grove of willows. However, the wind! The wind! I had no eye protection and I thought that I was going to freeze my eyeballs from the bitter wind and big snowflakes blowing into them. I was fortunate that the trail was easy to follow, as my eyes were all teary and blurry for the last half of the run.
We splurged on Saturday night and stayed here. The company of friends, gourmet food, excellent wine, hot tubbing in a snowstorm, crackling fire in a fireplace, people waiting on your every need, what more could a girl ask for? Spring Creek Ranch is situated on a hill about 1000 feet above Jackson, WY. When the visibility is good, the whole of the Teton Mountain Range lays out before you in magnificent fashion. Upon our arrival to Spring Creek amidst a snowstorm on Saturday afternoon, you could barely see adjacent buildings, let alone any mountains. However, I will let Sunday morning's view from our hotel room's balcony (the picture above) speak for itself.
Sunday afternoon's trail run bordered on the ridiculous. We started at the Goodwin Lake Trailhead, just outside of Jackson, WY, and headed uphill. The first destination is the lake (about 3 miles), and then the trail continues on elsewhere. We barely made it to the lake, which was, of course, frozen solid and covered with the same thick layer of snow that we were ourselves plowing through. By the time we finally gave up and returned downhill at the lake, we were up to our upper shins in powder. This whole endeavor, a measely 6 miles with about a 1000 foot elevation gain to the lake, took over 1:30 to complete out-and-back. However, it was a challenging 6 miles! In exchange for difficult workout conditions, the views were priceless. The day remained clear, sunny, and cold, and the surrounding mountains glowed snowy white all day.
I was on my own for explorations during the day on Monday. This time I was on the west side of the Tetons, in Idaho. I trail ran (trudged through snow) to a place called Mud Lake. If I thought yesterday's snow was bad on the Goodwin Lake Trail, then this was something entirely else. The worst part of this run was that it was windy and some large snowdrifts had formed. You can't really see the snow drifts, though, until you are in them. Mostly, it goes like this: You're running along, trying to be mindful of foot placement. Suddenly, your landing foot doesn't land on anything, rather it falls through powder until it hits the bottom of the snow drift. Meanwhile, you're covered up to your thighs in snow, and you now have to figure a way out of the mess. I was out of my element and uncomfortable on this run. Upon arrival back to my cell phone, I promptly called the store from where I had ordered my snowshoes and told them I would pay the expedited ordering fee to get the snowshoes here faster. Then I drank hot chocolate while standing in a hot shower. Then I think I felt better.
Monday evening was a lot more fun. We hiked to a place called Huckleberry Hot Springs. It's about a 2-mile hike into the backcountry to some natural hot springs. Fortunately, someone had made this hike earlier in the day, so they had packed down the snow on the trail. This made for much easier hiking. The night was pitch-black dark and absolutely silent. I think the new, thick layer of snow was insulating all the sounds of the natural world. The hot springs are almost entirely undeveloped. You can choose to sit in a natural pool beneath a 6 foor waterfall of hot water, or you can kind of lay in a hot springs water stream. The water temperature hovers around 100 degrees Fahrenheit. We sat in the natural pool, and it was perfect. While we were soaking, the next snowstorm blew in. When we went to retrieve our towels and clothes, they were already covered up by snow! Back at the trailhead, my car was already covered with a few inches of snow. The drive to my friend's house was supposed to be about 90 minutes from the trailhead, but it took over 3 hours due to this incredible snowstorm. We crossed over a mountain pass called Teton Pass, which already had about 10 inches of new snow on it. Quite a storm and really challenging driving conditions!
Because of all the snow on Monday night, I had to wait most of the day on Tuesday to get back to my house while some of the roads were being cleared. While I was waiting, I decided to go for a run in Teton Canyon, which is located on the west side of the Tetons. Teton Canyon is also where I raced a portion of my trail marathon back in September. However, I stayed at a much lower elevation today because of all the new snow. Where I ran, there was probably about 5 inches of snow, very doable in comparison to other places I had tried to run this weekend. The weather was fabulous, fabulously clear and fabulously cold. I did and out-and-back in this canyon, and the downhill views out of the canyon on the way back to my car were great.
I eventually made it home last night, albeit a bit late and via a circuitous route to avoid the worst of the roads inside Yellowstone. After several stressful days of snow driving, I'm not going anywhere in my car today!
Posted by Meghan at 11:47 AM | Comments (1)
November 14, 2006
Snow Daze
Well, I'd like to go home. But currently the roads to my house are impassible due to snow, lots of it. So, while I wait for those fine state and federal employees to clear lanes of traffic, I'm getting Internet updated.
1. This weekend was thrilling. We didn't get as high up into the mountains as I thought we might because there were 2 snowstorms. Though I've already posted the running aspects of this weekend in other entries, I'll recap some of the other recreational highlights shortly.
2. I just discovered that I did make it as a semi-finalist but not as a finalist in the contest hosted by these people. I must really suck at writing. I mean, mimi naweza kusema Kiswahili vizuri na nimeshakwenda Afrika ya Mashariki (I speak Kiswahili fluently and I've been to East Africa.). If that didn't help me succeed in this contest, then I must be a poor, poor writer. Oh well, congrats, though, to this guy.
3. My running life is in a state of serious upheaval. I was going in one direction with it, and now I have the opportunity to go with it in a distinctly different and distinctly crazy manner. And I have to decide soon. Like right now. This is all very vague, I know. When I decide, I will let my lovely readership know.
4. Because I'm for some reason link happy today, I'll link you to my new toys. Well, I test rode some of these puppies (the "Run" model) recently and my own pair will hopefully arrive to me shortly. So, even if things get a little running crazy, I will at least remain a trail runner this winter.
That's all for now.
Posted by Meghan at 8:05 AM | Comments (3)
November 10, 2006
Friday's Long Run
I find it exciting that I'm not at all fatigued after an 18-ish mile run, inclusive of about 2300 feet elevation gain and subsequent loss. That's all I've got to say at the moment.
Posted by Meghan at 1:12 PM | Comments (1)
November 8, 2006
Snowrunning
Side Note: I'm moving my training logs to here instead of keeping a written one at home. I'm not spectacular at keeping written logs, but I seem to ramble prolifically here, so perhaps this will work out better. I'm starting with last week, the first week after my 50k.
The promised weather finally moved in sometime this morning while I was sleeping off the night shift. It was barely cold enough to snow at my house, but the white stuff was all over the mountains above me. I wanted to go snowrunning up there.
On Monday, most of the roads in Yellowstone National Park closed to wheeled vehicles for the season. There will be a brief interim, from now until just before Christmas, where no tourist traffic is allowed on the roads. Then, then, THEN, the blessed/cursed snowmobile and snowcoach season begins. From mid-December until late March, oversnow vehicles traverse the park roads, bringing tourists around to experience Yellowstone winter.
Right now, in this closed road interim, I have all the roads to myself. While I mostly swear off pavement, I consider this an added bonus. Many trails are covered with snow and I'm avoiding the forest service areas for several weeks. So empty, albeit paved, roads tracing through the wilderness of Yellowstone National Park are becoming good places to run for a while.
The road was both slightly snow covered, though melting, and slightly slippery, though negotiable. I climbed about 1000 feet in 25 minutes, from the beginning of the road closure to Swan Lake Flats. I ran this a few times last year during the closed-road time, but I do not recall this climb feeling so easy. I felt great. When I topped out at Swan Lake Flats, I took off at tempo effort for 15 minutes out and 15 minutes back. The road was filled with puddles and my dog and I splashed through them like little kids. I felt great the entire time. I could have kept running at that effort for a while longer. Once I returned to the top of the "hill," I went back downhill nice and easy the whole way. I feared I might chuck myself off the road and into the canyon below should I start slipping and sliding. Downhill running on pavement felt jarring all through my body, and I was eager to be done running at that point.
I have only 1 more night of work, then 8 days of freedom to play. I am dying to be done with work. This weekend holds some adventuring in the lower Tetons (that which isn't covered already in feet of snow) and surrounding areas. I'm not making the plans, so it will all be a surprise to me. Whatever happens, I'm a willing participant.
Posted by Meghan at 6:57 PM | Comments (0)
Week of November 6th
Monday- 1. 1:18 easy and hilly, forest service road above Jardine, MT; 2. 45 minutes yoga; 3. core
Tuesday- 1. 1 hour easy and rolling, Yellowstone River Trail; 2. 30 minutes leg strength/plyometrics workout
Wednesday- 1. 1:17, 25 minutes easy but climbing 1000 feet, 30 minutes tempo effort totally flat, 23 minutes easy returning 1000 feet downhill, Upper Terraces to Swan Lake Flats and return; 2. 45 minutes yoga
Thursday- Rest (from running), 1. lifting; 2. core
Friday- 2:40 long, hilly run, Old Gardiner Road x2
Saturday-1:00 flat and easy, Snake River Trail (Jackson, WY)
Sunday-1:30++ hilly and easy, Goodwin Lake Trail (Jackson, WY)
Recovery continues. Adding in the accessory workouts again this week after an almost 3-week hiatus to taper into and recover out of racing. Wednesday's 30 minutes tempo felt spectacular. Sunday's run looks better than it was; the mileage was ridiculously low, as much of the time was spent plowing through snow way too deep to navigate well in running shoes. On the plus side, it was a helluva workout.
Posted by Meghan at 6:10 PM | Comments (0)
Week of October 30th
Monday- rest
Tuesday- 40 minutes easy and flat, Yellowstone Railroad Bed Trail
Wednesday- 1:13 easy and hilly, Old Gardiner Road
Thursday- 40 minutes easy and flat, my neighborhood in the dark
Friday- untimed, approx. 6 easy and hilly miles, Eagle Creek Road
Saturday- 40 minutes steady and hilly, out via the Old Yellowstone Trail and back via the Yellowstone Railroad Bed
Sunday- 1. 1:17 easy and hilly, Old Gardiner Road; 2. 45 minutes yoga
Recovery in progress. All easy, though mostly hilly, miles. A little bit of steady running on Saturday, just to see how things felt. Unfortunately, I was pretty sore from Friday's massage, and my quads ached. Cardio felt good, though.
Posted by Meghan at 6:00 PM | Comments (0)
November 7, 2006
How It's Suppposed to Go
If you didn't notice, yesterday's blog entry was rather negative. I was angry and upset, rightfully so, in my honest opinion. I hope today's blog entry will find me in a better place. Today I ran on the Yellowstone River Trail, inside of Yellowstone National Park, where it's illegal to hunt. Thus, it was just (mostly) me and the wilderness.
From the town of Gardiner, the Yellowstone River Trail undulates beautifully as it traces upstream next to the Yellowstone River for miles, and miles, and miles. In some places, the trail is wide, flat, and slightly overgrown with grass. You can fairly fly through these sections, feeling soft grass blades (Well, the grass is currently a little dead. Thus, it's a bit rough to the touch. But just imagine with me for a moment, okay?) brushing against your shins as you run. Elsewhere, the trail barely clings to steep walls of hard rock that drop a few hundred feet into the river. One travels these sections somewhat slower and with caution, but the feeling of looking straight down into the river is an exhilirating one (I recommend stopping to take in this view, rather than taking a potentially injurous misstep while looking at the scenery.).
As I ran, I saw a herd of bighorn sheep on the opposite side of the river, sitting in a tight cluster high on a grassy knoll. I caught a fast glimpse of a bald eagle as it flew past at eye level. The wind was violent again today, and the eagle was using the wind to fly with amazing speed. I spied the ever-present herds of deer. The herds were all bedded down in bushes and easily spooked when I ran by. I also saw a pair of hikers. Their heads were tucked deeply into hoods and hats, as if trying to hide from the wind. They never saw me approach, and they each jumped about a foot when I did.
Often during runs alone in the wilderness, I hear only my own breathing and footsteps breaking through nature's utter silence. This was not the case today, as everything seemed loud. Those gale-force winds howled through the canyon. The river seemed to make a lot of noise as its whitewater flowed over rocks and boulders. Even the birds were loud around me. It wasn't melodic birdsong either; rather, it was persistent, purposeful calling among the ranks. The wilderness was so noisy today that I never heard myself moving through it.
The weather forecast says some storm is blowing in. I didn't need Weather.com to discern that, though; the wilderness told me all I needed to know. From the sheep that have come off the cliffs to a safe flat spot, to the eagle that was going somewhere fast, to the bedded down and easily frightened deer, to the other hikers that were fighting a fierce wind, everything out there indicated that weather was on its way.
While I was running, I realized what bothered me most about my hunter encounters. Sure, it sucks that some of them have littered. Yes, it's not very nice for the occasional hunter to request a sexual favor from a passing female runner. And, it's inconvenient that I can't travel safely in the national forest backcountry (or frontcountry, as I learned) during hunting season. It bothered me most that, when I shared the wilderness with hunters, I didn't feel the senses of peace with and connection to nature that I often do when running. Today was different, though. I felt like I was a part of the place where I ran; I felt like I understood my surroundings; I think that's how it's supposed to go.
Posted by Meghan at 6:37 PM | Comments (1)
November 6, 2006
Hunters: Be Gone
I have reached the point of exasperation with hunters. They are present in the surrounding national forest in obnoxious jeeps-with-custom-shotgun-mounts-blaze-orange-hats-and-jackets-and-three-beer-coolers-per-truck fashion. In principle, I am not opposed to hunting or to those that do it. Many families I know around here shoot an elk or a couple of deer in the fall to provide meat for the winter season, an example of simple, sustainable living. I am exhausted with the out-of-town hunters who are here to party, recreate with reckless abandon, litter their beer cans, shoot something with big antlers, and just generally disrespect the local land and people.
I've been sharing the national forest with the hunters since the season opened in Montana a few weeks ago. I finally fold, I'm not going back to the national forest until the season is over. While this decision harshly impairs my access to good running routes for the next several weeks, I no longer care to be yelled at, leered at, followed, and chased. I don't care to listen to the sound of distant and not-so-distant gunshots as I run. I don't want to be saddened by the clusters of beer cans and bottles littered along my running routes. Most importantly, I don't care to get (unintentionally or intentionally) killed.
I have lost count of the number of times this hunting season that trucks have stopped to chastize me for running in hunting territory (I'm only running right now along the main forest service roads, not on abandoned logging roads, trails, or otherwise in the backcountry. They are wide and well-traveled at this time of year by many modes of movement. For instance, along the road today, I saw truck, 4-wheeler, horse, and pedestrian tracks.). And, gasp, without something blaze orange on my body to boot. I politely remind those that slow long enough to listen to my response that we're sharing this public land and it's designated for many uses.
I saw three hunters gutting a buck last week. They had shot it a somewhere off the road, dragged it back to their parked truck, and were cleaning it at the truck. It was all loud storytelling-bantering with booze and cigars as they worked. They turned nasty when I ran by, asking me for two particular sexual favors. I declined the participation invitation by ignoring them completely. I had to run by this spot again to get back to my car, and I extended my run an extra twenty minutes or so on the chance that they might be gone. They weren't, and we repeated the process again.
And, finally, earlier this week, a jeep (with a custom shotgun mount) containing two hunters played a game of leapfrog with me on a forest service road. They would pass me, pull over, watch me as I ran by, make disparaging comments, and repeat the process ad nauseum. At one point, the two guys got out of the car and asked me if I was scared to run by myself out in the middle of nowhere, laughing with each other as they asked. I provided them with a buffet of choice words and a middle finger as I turned around to head in the direction of my car.
I want to clarify that I think each of these stories is an example of non-local hunters. I haven't encountered an unfriendly local hunter yet. In fact, the locals that are hunting right now are up in the woods recreating all year long. In the spring and summer, they ride their horses. In the fall, it's hunting. And in the winter, they snowmobile the same land. I'm coming to recognize their faces and their trucks, and I suppose by now they recognize me as the girl who's always up there running. We exchange waves, hellos, and "How's the trail?" greetings in passing. I am the new one to their land, and it seems that they've accepted me up there.
I wonder if I will take heat from any hunters in my tiny readership. I hope that I don't, because it is only my intention to write with explicit rudeness (I'm unsure as to whether this writing even qualifies as explicit rudeness.) about the hunters who have treated me specifically and the local land generally without respect.
Though I know the hunters will be around for a few more weeks, I am quite ready for them (the bad ones, anyways) to be gone.
On the running front, 1:20 easy and hilly on a forest service logging road. It was a slogfest, gooey mud at lower elevation, then slush up higher, then slick ice at the highest point to which I climbed. My dog and I were filthy afterwards, and that was awesome. The hills are coming to me easy at the moment, and that is a miraculous feeling.
Posted by Meghan at 6:45 PM | Comments (3)
November 5, 2006
Do These Things Work?
I watched the local herd of elk for a bit today, because the scene was rather entertaining.
The elk rut is officially over; the cows have gone out of heat and, in turn, the bulls have calmed their violent, testosterone-driven tendencies. Though peace has returned to the herd, the elk seem to wander in undirected stupor. For months, their sole life purpose was procreation and all of the related nuances surrounding this process. Without such purpose, it is as if the elk don't know how to occupy their time.
I'm inclined to smack the herd upside their heads and tell them to graze. The elk I watched today seemed unconcerned about the impending season change. More like, they don't seem concerned about anything at all. However, now is their last chance to pack on a few more calories on in the hope of surviving the starvation months of winter. It is impossible for elk to graze enough calories each day in the winter to meet their energy-expenditure requirements. Grass and bushes are buried deep below the snow, and the elk are left to chew upon leafless saplings and low-lying branches on larger trees. The winter goings are tough, so elk must enter the winter season with a good reserve of stored energy. Those that have enough in their tanks will survive; those that don't will die. Resultingly, elk mortality rates in winter are huge.
Among the wandering, unfocused herd were several juvenile male elk. These boys, really elk teenagers, are probably 1 1/2 years old. They each have stubby antlers that split into the tiniest of two points at their ends. Through the rut, these guys tried to remain invisible. They are not yet mature, so they are uninterested in mating. However, the large, testosterone-infused bull elk don't care where they unleash their physical frustrations. If these teenagers arrive in the wrong place at the wrong time, they are very much subjected to the violent wrath of a bull elk. During the rut, I watched these teenagers hanging in groups off the edge of the herd. When things got violent or volatile among the big bulls and their cows, these teenagers would literally duck behind trees and bushes, trying to stay out of the way.
Though they avoided the real action, these teenagers must have been observing with interest elk rutting behavior and storing that knowledge away for when they reach sexual maturity. I was most entertained today by two teenagers practicing their sparring skills. The big bull elk sparring during the rut is quite intense, loud, and violent. Two bulls will repeatedly ram each other with their large racks, stamp their feet on the ground, and make pained grunting noises. This afternoon, the two teenagers were quietly and simply clicking their antlers together, as if testing to see if they really work. Such as they say, practice makes perfect; perhaps someday, these two teenagers might fight each other in earnest during a rut.
I also ran today, barely fitting it in around my observations of the natural world and all. It was a tough day for on-foot recreation as there were literal gale-force winds occurring out there. I climbed 4 miles uphill via an exposed dirt road almost exclusively into the wind, which also carried with it a fine mix of sleet and snow that stung as it hit bare skin, namely my cheeks. It was one of those times when you just shut off your brain and run, because if you get to thinking about what you're doing, it seems ludicrous. On the plus side, I returned downhill, with the wind, via the same 4 miles. Resultingly, the pace was, as my high school cross country runners would say, sick. They might also call it gnarly. Both of these words translate into describing the pace as pretty freaking fast.
This road runs just below the edge of a thick pine forest that leads all the way up to the top of a 9000 foot "hill." Somewhere above the road as I ran, some giant tree snapped and fell in the wind, bringing with it a big load of other trees at the same time. It sounded like an automatic weapon was being discharged for about 7 seconds. This comepletely wigged out my sensitive border collie, and she took off like a bullet. Perhaps the speedy return pace was also attributed to trying to keep up with the dog.
The One-Week Post Race Assessment: Recovery is going well. However, I need to continue to recover. I have a few body aches and pains that need to simmer down. I got a massage this week, one of those uncomfortable, intense, deep tissue massages. I told the therapist that she could work on me as long as it took to get things worked out. The massage went on, and on, and on. Afterwards, I was exhausted, and she told me that my body was trashed. Yes, that's the actual word she used. She said the following body parts are trashed: my upper back between my shoulder blades, the left side of my butt, my left quad, and my right foot. Funny, that's where I feel trashed as well. Nothing is truly obscene, just, you know, trashed. Recover onward.
Posted by Meghan at 6:24 PM | Comments (3)
November 2, 2006
Moondance
With apologies to Van Morrison, it was a marvelous night for a moondance. However, I was actually running rather than dancing. And, technically, I could only see the moon's glow through the a haze of cloud cover and falling snow. But, hey, this is my blog, and I can title my entries as I see fit.
I decided tonight was the night that I better walk the walk of the talk I've been talking. That is, I recently stated that I needed to grow the courage to train through the cold, snowy, windy, and dark Yellowstone winter. Granted, I only ran for about 40 minutes, but I did make it out there.
Last winter, I swore off night running at Yellowstone as I had a close encounter with a bison in the dark. With trepidation and an adrenaline rush created by the lingering bison memory, I set out for a short run. I wore a headlamp, but it did no good. In the snow, the headlamp performed somewhat like high beams do in fog, not very well. So, I turned off the high-beam headlamp and ran by my own night vision. Notably, my night vision is horrid; this has been unscientifically proven through anecdotes that typically involve me tripping, falling, or failing to see large obstacles in my nighttime path (eg: the bison standing in front of me last winter in the dark). For some reason, though, I could see well. Thus, I experienced no mishaps along the way.
My reward for tonight's courage to go on a winter-dark run was priceless. It was chilly, but not frigid, as Yellowstone was situated beneath a warmth-protecting cloud cover. Moonshine sometimes peaked through cloud breaks, but mostly it just added a bit of light to the darkness as it glowed dimly through the clouds. The wind blew mildly and surprisingly from the south, rather than the winter-typical north. And, snow flurries danced in the air. I'm unsure as to whether any snowflakes actually hit the ground, or whether they just floated on the breeze. Perhaps the snow was engaged in the real moondance.
Through the low clouds and snow, and using only the moonshine, I could just barely make out an outline of the mountains that surrounded the valley. I ran through the campground, observing a few brave campers sitting close to an orange, crackling campfire. They talked quietly, and their voices arrived to me as the smooth murmuring of contented souls. I passed through my neighborhood, inhaling the pleasant smells emerging from homes. Some smelled of wood smoke from fireplaces and stoves; others smelled of various sorts of dinner foods. Though I share Yellowstone National Park with several million visitors every year, I couldn't help but feel in those moments like this was my little spot on earth, and that I was tucked safely into it.
I'm aware that Van Morrison's "Moondance" is about romancing and loving another human being. On another but still somewhat related level, I'm also aware that I am in love with Yellowstone National Park and that this place has the definitive power to romance me. Resutingly, "Moondance's" lyrics fit well into this context.
Well, it's a marvelous night for a Moondance
With the stars up above in your eyes
A fantabulous night to make romance
'Neath the cover of October skies
And all the leaves on the trees are falling
To the sound of the breezes that blow
And I'm trying to please to the calling
Of your heart-strings that play soft and low
And all the night's magic seems to whisper and hush
And all the soft moonlight seems to shine in your blush
Chorus:
Can I just have one a' more Moondance with you, my love
Can I just make some more romance with a-you, my love
Well, I wanna make love to you tonight
I can't wait 'til the morning has come
And I know that the time is just right
And straight into my arms you will run
And when you come my heart will be waiting
To make sure that you're never alone
There and then all my dreams will come true, dear
There and then I will make you my own
And every time I touch you, you just tremble inside
And I know how much you want me that you can't hide
Chorus
Repeat 1st Verse
One more Moondance with you in the moonlight
On a magic night
La, la, la, la in the moonlight
On a magic night
Can't I just have one more dance with you my love
Posted by Meghan at 11:09 PM | Comments (0)
November 1, 2006
I May Not Look Happy...
...but, really, I am. This is about a 1/2 mile from the finish of the Goblin Valley 50K. The last mile of the course weaves through a trailess area of "goblins," or the crazy red, erosional rock formations that you can see behind me. Some of them seem to have faces; others really are shaped like ghosts and goblins; still others just look like some seriously weird rocks. Through this mile, you follow flagging stuck in the dirt, weaving left and right every 10 or 15 meters. It was my favorite part of the course.
On another note, I find it somewhat miraculous that I ran 1:13 on a dirt road with a 1000 foot elevation gain and then subsequent loss this afternoon with only a little residual soreness and no residual fatigue. In fact, I ran this course unintentionally faster than I usually do. Go figure. No complaints here, this makes me very, very happy.
Posted by Meghan at 5:11 PM | Comments (4)