Friday, August 17, 2007

Cougar takes Husky down!

Friday night D and I meet to lift weights. We make a mutual decision he will be the enforcer of weight training and mountain biking and my job is to get us running. For the first time in our adventure racing career (yes a few small races and I call it a career) we are on the same page. We are both done suffering in race from lack of training. So we shake hands on it. We will train.

So Saturday morning comes and we head out to Cougar Mt to run the 13 mile trail run. I ran it last year so I already have the goal to beat last years time. First year actual races are looping around so I can see if there is any progress.

I have nuun instead of gatorade. check. I have sworn NO stops at water stations. check. There is just one thing holding me back from beating last years time. The runner in front of me and the pace we are going.

D and I decided to run together like a team, he always holds back, avoiding the crowds and finds his place right away. I am not going the exact pace I wanted but am ok with it, for about 2 to 3 miles. The person ahead of me feet are sliding all over the place and it's not the technical piece. Its not even the elevation gain or lost, its the nicest part of the race. So as I watch her feet slide and the distance between her and the runner in front of her is growing, growing and then out of sight. My heart feels a twinge and I'm bummed. I then realize that with a broken elbow last year I ran faster. I turn behind me and said, "lets pass." "I'm ok" hmm. The trail still looks tame and her feet are dancing all over the rocks. I think of the spills I took last year and I turn back and say, "We should sprint this part then we can slow because it gets brutal in there." "I'm ok." I have no idea why I take this the wrong way, because Mt. Biking I can't go any faster, but here on my feet I am like I can't take this. I can't. I then just jet.

I poured my heart into the next 10-11 miles. I was running so hard. I only beat my time by 32 minutes and felt really let down. One friend said, that's more than 2.5 minute per mile that's great. But honestly what I put into and the return factor for my time -which was 3:05 - I was really upset with myself.

I was like I need to make up from the slow poke ahead of me and I just was seriously giving every once of blood I had. I was blazng down each down hill and I mean FAST. I felt strong and then KABOOM! I hit the ground (bang bang I hit the ground, bang bang I hate that sound) and I truly popped up faster than I fell. I swear I don't know if it was me that brought my body off of the ground or if it was a fall so hard I bounced back up. There were four guys now behind me that were saying, "lets wash her knee, pull her to side" and out came, "don't touch me." and this guy still running behind me says, "you should check out your knee." I say, "I can feel the blood in my sock. I don't want to fall into my fall." (What does that mean? I don't know and I said it but I knew at the time.) Then I was like "I'm sorry" these guys were like "no, it's ok. We shouldn't thought you wanted to stop" and then one guy stayed behind me and the other guys were a little behind.

It was so great. We are out there running 13 miles. It's gorgeous. I am wearing cute shorts :), its a good day to be alive (all that runners high stuff), but I am still giving it all I got and I catch a few more people, then I go barreling down the next hill and try to turn a corner. I ran straight off the path and kept going. I couldn't get my legs to stop. It was like I had no control, it wasn't even downhill anymore as much as momentum and rubber legs. I then even conciously was like stop legs stop. Still running in the bushes about to run into a log and I use my shoulders to fall to the right of the log. Behind me a girl comes up laughing and laughing - I thanked her and ran away.

I don't wear a watch but I swear that my pace wass so much faster than last year.

So as I cross the line and see 3:05 my heart sunk. Bleh. Run that hard and be that slow.. what the hek? I thought I gave it my all. Then as I come over I still had outwardly good attitude and was truly happy to finish but then there was silence. A crowd. Silent. For one small second I thought, oh my knee, then a guy grabbed my arm and another woman began talking and before sentences were formed I instantly think something is wrong with D. Then this guy says, "Your husband is at the hospital." I took deep breath. No husband so no hospital. Then he held up D's keys and my knees almost fell. Esp the way he was holding my arm and the other woman says, "he is in shock. His finger hyper-extended and he has a compound fracture." and so on and someone else and someone else. She went on to say he hasn't been to the hospital since wakeboarding accident (those were those EXTREME lessons we took), I was like how does she know this why is she still talking? What? She said, "it's so werid cuz his dad just lost his fingers too." WHAT??? stop. Then she said, "have some food and get some water he will be in the hospital for awhile." WHAAAAAAAT? like I'm going to be chowing on some food.

So I drive to the hospital talk to my Brother in Law Mark. He said, "so weird I was going to call him today, I'm going to pop over there."

So I get there expecting to see this laid out shocked person instead I get greeted with the biggest smile and he says, "Oh my god, I would have been so pissed if I lost my finger running." and he laughs. D was just funny. Telling the great story how he ran down these hills and finally did pass that girl, and was just feeling great and catching time on down hills when his feet got away from him he just fell. He said he put his hands down and when he looked at his hand, the top of his pointer finger was pointed back at him. He said not only was his pointing back it was crooked and the skin ripped on the other side. He popped his finger into place and just held it. He then he said he did an inventory of his body to see if anything else was injured. He said he debated running and then realized there were rocks in his finger (which the doctor cleaned out with a toothbrush). He always says I am known for story telling. I think he told the facts all up until the part he said, "I am so bummed I didn't get to finish the race I was having a good run." It sounded fishy. I now imagine D on mile 4, busting his own finger back and saying, "screw this trail." so the truth is still unknown.

Immediately when his finger was wrapped and in a splint he said "Rock paper scissors" with this perma straight finger. It was funny. I told him the girl thought he was in shock because he was so matter of fact, get me to the hosptial, and I looked at him and realize I should have known she could have taken his personality for someone in shock. HA.

It goes to show you how you deliver news and also the persons injured attitude. It could have been trauma and just a bad day. It wasn't. Normal eating food and story telling. The only bummer was it was his left hand and he is left handed. Of course that he was injured but he was so like its a good day. I am ok.

The thought makes you weasy but when you see the actual rip ts's impressive! When he only had two stitches I thought it can't be too bad, but when you see it, the tear is the entire width of his finger and they did only two stitches to seep out the rocks, which he showed me, "look, just like that." as he pulled a pebble from his finger. Injury of the month for sure. Atttitude of the YEAR for sure!!

Wednesday, August 15, 2007


I decided to take group cycling yesterday for our team training since one of us has injury and can not shift gears. We set off to class and my partner left me to go get his heart monitor. Meanwhile I'm just standing near my bike stetching because I'm still sore from Saturdays run (story to be posted tonight or tomorrow). The class is so loud and three ladies that are in class are screaming to the teacher the stories of their training which entailed three sports for training, but one of them being dinner and a bottle of wine each. Then the teacher who is on foot comes up to me and says, "aren't you going to get on your bike?" "Oh class started? Do you get on your bike?" "Yes class started. No I don't get on the bike." So my riding guy is back and gets going on his bike. And the cackling gets louder and the teacher says something about RPM's but I couldn't hear. So I say, "I can't hear the teacher." And then the talking lady says to him she didn't hear either so he repeats it. Then they start talking (more like shouting) about drinking and eating early and I am on edge. My bike partner says, "Relax!" I'm not sure about anyone else but there is hardly a time when on edge that being told to relax I slightly giggle and say, "your right its me, I will relax." Instead my eyes turned to slits my head cranked to him and I was about to hiss when the teacher caught part of their conversation and brought this guy Bruce into the conversation. The teacher said, "Tell them how important it is to rest." He said, "Rest is very important..if you are in shape." ZING. I wanted to hug him. I am usually not bratty but one time a month my thoughts (hormones) are those of mean girl and today was that day. They were silent. Then finally one spoke, "yeah but have you probably haven't done a triathalon before." he then said, "if you don't count my ironman this summer your right." then they just tried to engage him and pegged him with questions. He eventually hopped off his bike for the cool down piece and said to the teacher, "don't ever bring me into their conversation again." Afterward, I realized it was 50/50. My mind wasn't normal and those ladies were out of control. I do have to say though it's hard to drag yourself to indoor workouts and I want a stress reliever and I felt worse. So I went and got a massage and the hiked little si with Marna and Misha. After my massage -my head was set straight and I loved little si. We had a great time. It was glorious to hear about Marna's 7 day biking trip.

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

Everything is Gravy

No really! That's all that I can think about is gravy. Drinking gravy (actually). Doug Heffernan just did it on the King of Queens. It was disgusting watching, yet, the thought of drinking gravy is all consuming. Someone even asked me what I'm doing tomorrow and what came as was "all I know is breakfast and gravy." I meant to say, "biscuits and gravy."

Far cry from how I felt last week. All I could do is get sick. Violently sick. Right after my race of six degrees of navigation. I could blame heat, over workout, not enough training (for me), but right before I was laid out to die, no matter what it could have been, it just hurt my skin. I loved racing. I had a great time. We were even singing. I would have enjoyed some single track and some technical riding. But I had a blast. Riding my bike on a huge rock was a highlight. After the race, it was there and then that I decided - after a race; suffering is no longer needed. I have proved I can do that - why not go in to a race experienced. I'm a competitor - I keep thinking I want first - but then my training is spotty. Commandoughs have a race coming up in September - I raced with a different team for six degrees. Again, they were fun, this all comes back to me. I talked to the leader of our team (Commando), and told him my views and we are in fact our going to train train train (right after I drink a cup of gravy).

Oh - don't want to feel ill again, changing subject. Spaghetti is no replacement for gravy. I just ate spaghetti by my parents’ house and I am going to have to say that spaghetti is spotty at best too. Your teeth can't really sink into a noodle. I'm near choking before I believe I have a bite. Even then spaghetti is weak. I need steak (or just a cup of gravy). Will I get sick? Hmm. Need a risk assessment team.