Weatherman Draw

We joined some running club friends on a hike to view American Indian pictographs in south-central Montana near the Wyoming border. The weather turned out to be perfect and while our group was small, we were big in enthusiasm.

The area was typical of the high plains of Montana: dusty and rocky with lots of scrub vegetation. The panoramic views provided a nice backdrop to imagine the Indians of yesteryear riding across the prairie on horseback. An occasional wispy white cloud drifted lazily overhead but the sky was mostly unmarred and the most spectacular shade of blue. Looking out for miles and miles in any direction gives one the feeling they can almost see into both the past and the future. The innumerable sage and short evergreen shrubs provided an aromatic sensory experience. Small purple and yellow wildflowers dotted our way as we walked along. Despite our diligent avoidance, the prickly pear cactus and cheat grass annoyingly invaded our footware and socks as we tromped our way up the trail.

We headed towards the little valley that supposedly has the largest collection of Native American rock art on the continent with some dating back to over 1,000 years. The area is also known as the "Valley of the Shields or the "Valley of the Chiefs." Several years ago, a controversy erupted when Phil Anschutz, a billionaire businessman, wanted to drill for oil on the land. Through the coordinated efforts of several tribes and non-profit organizations, this sacred area has been spared that fate.

We did not find all of the pictographs but did find several. While they are still quite visible, they will eventually erode through the effects of time and elements. We wondered why they chose the canvases they did. Each sandstone surface appeared to be carefully prepared before the paint was applied. The sandstone texture was different beneath the art; it was if the surface had been sanded and smoothed.

The art we saw depicted shields with heads and sometimes tails and the photos do not do justice.

We took our time searching the area for more art. We crawled over bolders and squeezed between massive sheets of rock while always being alert for rattlesnakes. The wildlife actually seemed rather sparse; a bunny here, a hawk there, and a few snake skins. There was lots of scat so we knew larger animals were in the area. Skeletal remains in various conditions were common. One small scull appeared to be completely intact and we guessed it to be of a rabbit. This was a day of wonder and awe and gave us all an appreciation of all things great and small. With childlike curiosity we took turns examining the little scull and opened and closed its jaw trying to align the tiny teeth. What happened to the poor little thing?

No one in our party was in any hurry to leave this special place and we looked for every excuse to delay our departure. We found massive bolders to sit on while we dined on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and plums freshly picked from someone's garden. Together we marvelled at the natural beauty of the area and grew closer as friends through this shared experience.

Disconnect the brakes

After a recent 2 hour bike ride that proved to be rather difficult, I realized my front brake was pressing against the rim of the bike tire. Not knowing how to properly fix this, I decided to disconnect the brake and oh, what a difference that made.

Today, I rode with wild abandon. It was as if the wind were constantly at my back and the out-and-back course downhill in both directions. The day was a beaut -- one of those last minute summer surges before fall really sets in. The sky was cloudless, the blue endless, and the temp deliciously warm and inviting. The Sunshine Store was open for business and I was determined to make the best of an afternoon off.

I left my house without a plan or a purpose other than to enjoy the feel of the sun on my bare back and shoulders. With child-like delight, I pedaled my bike down the concrete bike trail to the river about as fast as my strong legs would allow. Giant grasshoppers -- dead and alive --littered the concrete trail. While riding through Coulson Park, one locust took flight and flew along next to me for what seemed like an amazingly long time.

Simple things make me happy like the sun warming my skin and the wind blowing in my hair as I propel my body through space. Funny how much difference an overly tight brake can make. I couldn't help but wonder what other "brakes" in my life are creating problems. What else can I disconnect to make the pedaling easier and the ride more care-free?

I look forward to exploring new areas in my life in which I can disconnect the brakes in the hopes of moving forward more easily and unencumbered.

Patience

So the running isn't going too well thanks to this sciatic/S.I. issue plus my left leg/knee bone is still sore 5 weeks after my fall during my Bighorn trail run. Hubby thinks I need an xray and I'm wondering if he may be correct. There is some improvement but overall a significant amount of tenderness remains. I'm trying to view this period of downtime as an opportunity to explore other interests and to catch up on some things I've been meaning to do.

You may wonder how that's working out for me. Well, honestly, not too well. I've been doing a fair amount of biking but it's just not the same. I miss going on long runs with friends and the satisified and exhilarted feeling you get afterwards.

I keep reminding myself to be patient; this is a good time to back off for a while. Patience... patience...


PATIENCE

If thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it.
I will keep still and wait like the night with starry vigil
and its head bent low with patience.
The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish,
and thy voice pour down in golden streams breaking through the sky.

~RABINDRANATH TAGORE

Let it snow!

I had an interesting yoga class last night. After a month or so off, I'm trying to get back into shape and regain the strength I lost. I arrived at the 7:00 class and the room was already warm. I changed clothes and swiped on a little deodorant - a free sample of some untested brand that I'd tossed in my gym bag. I unfurled my mat between 2 people: Valentina from Russia who is so flexible she could be her own circus act and a new guy who has a shaved head and a very fit looking body AND the longest mat I have ever seen. I commented on the size of his mat in my best imitation of Little Red Riding Hood, "Myyyyyy, what a long, black mat you have!"

Shaved Head Guy is doing a little warm up. Actually, what he is doing strikes me as showing off because he is doing all kinds of tricky yoga stuff that is great for impressing friends at parties and that I cannot do . So the teacher arrives and asks the new guy what kind of yoga experience he has. "OH, I used to do a lot of ashtanga but it's been a few years." Great, that means Jeff is going to ratchet the class up a bit to accommodate this guy and I'm really not up to that.

We start our practice and our body temps quickly rise with our exertion. The new guy's shaved head is covered in beads of sweat and his shirt is soaked. I'm having my own struggles trying to keep up with all the sun salutations. Plus the smell of this new deodorant is really starting to gag me. The more I sweat, the more it seems to engage and I begin to fear that everyone is smelling it. I glance at Shaved Head's mat and notice it is covered with mini sweat puddles. I look at my own yoga mat and notice there are tiny white deodorant balls all over it. I'm snowing deodorant balls from my arm pits. I think I'd rather have sweat puddles than deodorant snow.

I quivered and wobbled my way through the class and I have to say it feels DAMN good to be back in yoga again -- deodorant snow balls and all.

Decisions....decisions....

For the last few months I have agonized over whether or not I should sign up for the Portland Marathon. Initially, it seemed like a good idea because a good running friend was going to make that her first marathon and we could've trained together. Plus, I love Portland and would enjoy another trip there. Initially, I wasn't sure I could get through an entire marathon but after finishing the Bighorn, I decided I could do it. There were lots of good reasons to make Portland my first yet I still struggled.

Finally, I decided that if the decision is this hard then maybe it isn't the right thing for me to do. My heart simply isn't into training for a marathon. There are too many other ways I want to spend my time other than running. Maybe I will feel differently in the future but for right now this is the right decision. Besides, the half marathon really is the perfect distance.

Non-Stop Thrill Rides

It's official: I've done the Bighorn.

I had to find out why this course seductively entices our local runners to its trails each year. What makes it so special? Could I do it and would I enjoy the adventure? I went in search of Epic.

Miles 1 - 7: Like riding a new roller coaster for the first time, the climb upward heightened my anticipation for the thrill the downhill would bring. The first climb trudged from 7300' to 8000' and then dropped back down to about 7300. Then back up to 8100' before the next really long downhill segment. The trail ranged from decent jeep trails to single-track with a variety of large, embedded rocks or loose rocks. The Mile 5 aid station supplied runners with a bountiful smorgasboard of boiled shrimp, fresh fruit, Heed, gels, chips, crackers, etc.



I quickly found out that none of my training prepared me for the difficulty of the single-track trail. All of my long runs had been on the dirt and rock trails along the Rim Rocks but did not come close to simulating the difficult footing and steep downhills. I had to stay mentally focused the entire time or risk tripping. Letting my mind meander like I normally do on long runs was not an option and I became mentally and physically tired. I felt unbalanced and rather out-of-control. The course loses over 5,000' in elevation. How does someone prepare for that on a local level? I envied the good trail runners who floated over the rocks and down the hills effortlessly.

Mile 8: My toe finally caught a rock and I went down on hands and knees in the loose rock. It was jarring but overall I looked pretty good with just some minor trail rash on my left leg, a skinned knee, and a quickly bruising left palm.

Mile 10: I stopped to have my blistering feet taped by a handsome young man at the aid station. I was slightly horrified to have someone so precious tending to my dirty, sweaty, and blistered feet but he didn't seem to mind. What an angel.

Mile 12.5: We had lost significant elevation and the temps were become brutally hot with very little air circulation in the canyon. I was over-heating and the sound of the Tongue River rushing with the winter run off could be heard and seen in the valley just below the trail. What a cruel joke that was -- all I wanted to do was take my shoes off and cool my feet in the frigid water.

I felt seriously light-headed at this point and some running friends wisely encouraged me to take some Heed and Endurolyte capsules at this aid station. I also ate some watermelon and orange slices. Volunteers soaked us with cool water. I walked a while and began to feel better.



Mile 15: I felt pretty whiny until I came across a woman who was finishing the 100 mile route. She was barely putting one foot in front of the other so I slowed to walk with her a bit to help encourage her. She was at about Mile 97 and really hating life. She told me about her night alone on the trail and how she had been really afraid of bears. We talked about what motivates her to run the ultra distances.

A little boy with a garden hose thoroughly soaked us both at this aid station while his mother ran to fetch me a popsicle. I drank more Heed. The ultra woman and I parted ways and I didn't see her again until the finish. She shaved 3 hours off her last year's time.

So it wasn't pretty but I finished my mere 18 miles and found my husband who was nervously waiting at the finish line. My finish time was 30 - 45 minutes slower than I'd hoped but I lost significant time in the aid stations. "Never Again," I said. "That was the dumbest thing I've ever done in my life!" A male running friend smiled at me and said, "Well, now you've done THE BIGHORN."


That's been nearly 2 weeks ago and I find the pain has been replaced with a real sense of accomplishment and pride. I can already hear the seductive Bighorn sirens crying and calling to me. I will go back next year.



My GPS lost some mileage on the course but here's the overall profile.

Ready for the Bighorn 30k Trail Run

I am ready.

I’ve given myself a manicure and a pedicure and have my race stuff mostly packed. Would I look silly carrying a purse on the trail because I’m not sure this is all going to fit in my fuel belt and Race Ready shorts?

4 gels
Gloves
Extra socks
Bandaids
Moleskin
Chapstick
Sunscreen (sample sized)
Tissue paper
Dirty Girl Gaiters
Endurolyte capsules
Ibuprofen
Tampons (super sized)
Chewing gum
Garmin
Ipod Shuffle (for the final couple of hard miles)
Sunglasses
Cellphone (for taking pictures or calling 911 as needed)
Hat or visor? (Game Day decision)
Jacket – will leave in the drop bag
Pull on pants – will leave in the drop bag

Pickles, Onions, on a sesame seed bun.

Hoping I won't attract any bears on the trail