Calico Ghost Town 30k Trail Run 2011

I really don’t know where to begin.   I lied during the race, because I said I didn’t care.  It mattered before, because I worked my ASS off.  And it matters now, because I have regrets.  I had dreams.  I had aspirations.  I trained hard (but for only a short while).  I wanted to CONQUER Calico.  Did I?  Well, depends on how you define it. (Before your are an athlete you think it’s defined, afterward you have no ideal, because you can’t really know what defines an athlete : ) {If you’ve been reading along – sorry, soooooo sorrry}

My husband said I could throw him underneath the bus in writing this blog.  In fact, he urged me to “throw him beneath the bus.”.  I didn’t want to do that.  But heck, maybe I should.  Because I suppose the “whole” story is the “best” story.  Isn’t it?

Truth is, the 2 1/2 hour trip up to Calico, my husband and I argued a great deal about stupid sh*t.  I suppose it started earlier.  But it really erupted about halfway up the mountain.  And I cried and cried and cried.  My eyelids were practically swollen shut.  I really thought that I tried to calm the situation, because I know how important my mind is in running a long distance trail run.  A calm mind makes all the difference!  (doesn’t it?  doesn’t it???)

I think only runners, or maybe athletes in general  (though I don’t really consider myself an athlete) understand this:  A clear mind makes all the difference.  Mind over matter.  Believe me.  I’m 45 years old.  If anyone can tell you.  I can. 

I had been sick for days (I believe four days) and by the time I reached the summit up to Calico Ghost Town, with all my crying and such, I just said F**** it.  I’m not running.  I can’t do it with this mindset.

And then we (all five of us) drove on in silence . . .  And my hubby said “YOU HAVE TO RUN. . . YOU JUST HAVE TO RUN.”  And being the evil wife, I said, “NO.  I CAN’T.”

So, there’s me throwing my husband beneath the bus.  I can’t really do more than that (though I despised him at the time, because I really, really wanted to spend my passenger driving time meditating), but despite arguments and all, even wanting to THROW HIM UNDERNEATH THE BUS!!!, I love him, and he is really supportive for my silly hobby.  Trail running that is, I can’t say he is to blame.

I continued to cough and blow my nose that evening.  And since I decided F****, THIS,  I even had two glasses of wine at Peggy Sue’s Fifty’s Diner.  My husband said, “Are you sure you should drink that?”  I said with draggy eyes, “I really don’t care.”  (Despite my feelings for him at that point, he was supportive enough to drive me to heck and back and wait for hours and hours for me to cross the finish line : )

Downtown Calico Ghost Town (Bib Pick Up)

I bedded early, leaving hubby to deal with three misbehaving boys.  Why misbehaving?  Heck, I don’t know.  Maybe because they’re boys and I don’t know what the heck I’m doing in life as far as training youngun’s,  About 8:30 pm I remember sleeping and continually waking because mainly boy NUMBER THREE (pictured above) was up to mischief.

I believe I woke every hour.  And I reached for my cell phone, also my alarm clock, to see the time.  I coughed, I hacked.  In denial, I said to myself “allergies.”  I have them sometimes.  I dreamt  also OVER AND OVER that I was running.  But I really couldn’t run.  I kept falling.  And when I could stand, I could hardly lift a foot.  It was like my feet weighed a hundred pounds.  And so I went onward heavy laden, suffering, in agony.  In my dreams that is.  I also rode plenty of falling elevators. Over and over again, though somehow pleasantly.  (Riding falling elevators pleasantly is fairly rare.)

6:00 AM my husband took the 2 youngest of our sons, shoved them in the truck and drove me 3 miles to the start line.  Before leaving, I pleaded, “Wait, I’m freezing,” and he waited in the truck with our younguns, as I ran back to our room for some long sleeves. (Which I of course promptly dropped at the first aid station).

I arrived a good hour early to Calico Ghost Town (& I was happy for my husband for going thru that crap – really it is crap to run an early race alone).   And I don’t know if most of you know, but Calico is supposed to be haunted.  Funny.  I don’t really believe in “ghosts” as we traditionally describe them (though I believe in in them “untraditionally.”)  Before I sat down in the rocking chair on the saloon  slab before the race even started, the CHAIR ROCKED by itself.  I’m serious.  It rocked in unison as I sat down to film my  chat before the event.

So how many pages should I make this blog?

I could go on for ten, maybe twenty . . .

I started this run not caring.  I chucked all goals the night before in our arguments.  I just wanted to enjoy running in the desert.  Most people don’t realize that the high desert is gorgeous .  That’s what I love about trail running – the enjoyment, the beauty.

Funny thing, I saw familiar faces.   I saw Larry from OCTR. I recognized someone from Bulldog 50k, and also a very nice lady from another race that took Bulldog in the opposite direction when I ran it last spring. 

I chatted and learned a lot about Suzanne those first eleven miles (she was such a delight!!).  And I really have to say, it was pleasurable. I didn’t care about pace.  I cared about people and their stories; I cared about the beautiful scenery.  I learned a lot about Suzanne, and other tales from other runners on  those first eleven miles.  I saw Badwater Ben, who has run Bad Water’s 135 miles more than once.    He took pics at the beginning of our delightful, yet  gloriously colorful  morning run, and then again at the end when I wanted to collapse.  (about 4 miles left, I had a knee injury – nothing drastic, just that dang old knee slid out to the left without that youngun’ thing there to help.)  

I never tired drastically.  I should have on this 30k which was “relatively short”.  Actually it was a long 30k, not 18.66 miles, but 19.23 miles.  Heck.  I want to write something more profound about this race.  Well, here it is:   what I love about trails.  We’re all accepted.  It doesn't matter.  That’s all I ever wanted.  To do something fun, that didn’t matter.  19 miles.  I can do that.  And I should be able to do it much faster.  Really.  I DIDN’T  CARE at the race start (but I cared toward the end).  All that training, and I couldn’t come in faster!

Though I cried after crossing the finish line because I crossed with the worst time ever with me ( & my oldest son held me tight whispering that most people couldn’t even make that run).  He  held me for some time because he knows the pressure of first chair and honor orchestra, something  I could never understand.  I doubt that he “ really understands” though I hope that he does.  It’s also the camaraderie, not the competition that makes these races, these competitions the lesson.  FRIENDS.  Though we may pass them by in life . . .  there’s those we meet that makes a smile upon your face, like I did, a lady named Suzanne . You did a great job Suzanne!

Suzanne & me at the 30/50k split

The Home  Stretch / 30K Beautiful Run

All I can think about here is ICE for the knee

Photo Compliments of “Bad Water Ben.”

Old School House

 

Okay.  I’m tired.  Mainly my quads.  19.23 miles for this race logged.  Afterwards 2 park employees asked my race time, and I responded gloomy, “about five hours.”

“That’s six hours less than it would have taken me,” one of them said.  The other guy chuckled and added “That’s six days less than it would have taken me.

Calico Ghost Town 30k Elevation Profile

The movie, because if you visited before, I’m silly : )

Calico Ghost Town 30k Trail Run

Calico 30K Trail Race (CHECK) New Photos Added 1/27/10

First what I dreamt:  I can't find a parking place and the race begins in minutes -- it's a marathon, in the big city, and come to find out, before I even begin the marathon, there's a 20 mile pre-race.  Parking illegally, I run and run this "pre-race", through water and mud and crowded streets, into hair salons, toy stores, and even libraries where I run through endless aisles of books.  The books get bigger and bigger, making the aisles tinee, tiny, and I finally must crawl and squeeze through skimpy crevices between  these books, and the marathon hasn't even begun!!!

Back to the real event . . . The whole family stayed the night in Calico Ghost Town.  And strangely, though my hip was better the day prior, suddenly it ached all day Saturday, and I worried.  I stretched, took those anti-inflammatories.   After a fun day and dinner downtown with the family (though stressful), I bedded down early in the bunk house, still some coughing here and there, the boys too excited to sleep.  And I woke throughout the night, dreaming, dreaming, dreaming . . .

Down Town Calico Ghost Town
(Click on Pictures for Larger View)

Our Lodgings

Woke for good at 5:30 AM, stretched, and oh, so slowly prepared for the race.  Two extra strength excedrin didn't do much for the ache.  I hoped it did something for the inflammation.  6:30 AM,  IT WAS COLD as I headed up the road by foot toward downtown Calico.  Dozens of cars passed me on the road.  My excitement was the wondering whether I would be able to complete the race.  Actually, wondering, how on EARTH I was going to complete this race.

Ready to Leave -- I'm thinking, "I'M FREEZING," and not 5 seconds later do I have that orange fleece shirt pulled over my head

The walk up to the Start Line in downtown Calico Ghost Town begins

Getting Closer . . .

And Closer . . .

Arriving to the Start Line -- 9 minutes to spare : )

There were familiar faces in the crowd, mainly people I know about, but don't know.  But there was also a trail group member I know, Matt (You may recall, he helped me rescue my earpiece from the storm drain some months back).  We took off at the same pace for a good four miles.  It was a slow, steady incline, nothing tough.  My hip ached, but not terribly.  The relatively small group of racers (I don't know, perhaps 100?  probably more) didn't spread out drastically during those first five miles.  Parts of the trail was sandy, which is much like running on a sandy beach (more difficult than solid dirt or asphalt).   I laughed when Matt looked over his shoulder at the good size group of runners, and remarked, "Look, we're not last!"  I felt good, despite the hip, despite my doubts about completing this race.  I felt happy to be out there -- with my runny nose and kleenex in my pocket and all.  I felt grateful to be running again. 

Matt

Me, so, so cold, on that lonely (but not really that lonely) road into the scarey desert : )

Aid Station #1 at approx. 7 miles -- these stations are such a wonderful sight -- here's where I dropped of my fleece and gloves, but kept the sleeves because it was still quite chilly

This photo taken by Badwater Ben Jones

Miles 7 through 12, the crowd spread out, and Matt gained distance on me as did plenty other runners.  The gradual incline continued for some miles.  And the slant was ever so slight with my bad hip on the downhill -- not good for the pain.  It got worse.  I drank my water, downed the electrolytes in one form or another.  And then much to my amazement . . .  about half-way through this miles 7-through-12 segment, my right leg began cramping.  Seriously! I was actually aghast.  I had done everything in my power to avoid this cramping, from storing up potassium to eating potato chips at the aid station (which I never do), etc., etc. Though I say I was AGHAST, I didn't let that spoil my mood, because completing this run, in my opinion was all about mood.  That meant keeping a good attitude, breathing right, smiling and smiling often, relaxing the shoulders, waving, swaying to the music (yes, I did that here and there),  praying, yes praying, and to say the least, eating those jelly beans -- I hardly ever allow myself the indulgence of jelly beans, but today I stuffed my pockets with them at the aid station : )))))

Miles 7 thru 12, still seeing people around me, trail not difficult yet, except for slight slant

Hmmmm . . .

More of Miles 7 thru 12, notice white arrow painted in dirt to show the way

Aid Station # 2 -- Glory!

Poor Runner Who Didn't Make It

The Terrain Grows More "Technical"

Crampville

Still Miles 7 thru 12

Yes, That's My Big Foot : )

I was feeling the technical difficulty of the terrain to the point of fatigue by the time I came to the 30k/50k split. The volunteer here said, "Don't worry, it gets better once you reach the top," and I thought to myself, "didn't we already reach the top!!!" Ha, ha, ha : )  I knew . . . I remembered from last year the best was yet to come.

The 1st 30k/50k Split -- I'm going to the right!!!

From the split on, the terrain became increasingly difficult, or "technical" as they say.  No longer a nice wide road, I had rocks and boulders to deal with and a steep incline to climb.  Less than 100 yards from the summit, I phoned my husband (it was precisely 10:30).    After a short chat,  we lost connection, which happened to be at the peak.  Not wanting to lose downhill time, I raced down when suddenly both legs cramped.  Yikes!  For some reason, I tried a hamstring stretch.  NOT A GOOD IDEA.  My entire body nearly went into a cramp.  Then I remembered, stretch in the opposite direction of the cramp!!!  And so with my knees bent slightly, one foot in front of the other, I lifted my toe and bent down to grab it for a solid calve stretch.  Then I rubbed down the calves.  Feeling better, I attempted another hamstring (why????)  Yikes.  I nearly sent my body into a full cramp again.

Heading Up to the Summit (looking off to my left) -- Awesome to be there!

The Summit -- It's downhill from here to the next aid station (I'd guess 1 to 1.5 miles away) -- but the cramps hit in abundance here, so I can't make up that much time due to the fact that I need to stretch out the cramps : ( (Still though, I'm really happy I've made it this far, because it's pretty much a done deal that I'm FINISHING this race -- as long as I keep on smiling and praying and swaying to the music : )

Every time my right foot stepped on a rock a pain shot into my hip.  So I tried to avoid that!  At one point I got that hip shot, something also happened to my knee -- it was wierd, quick, and painful.  It didn't disable me, but I knew, it was not right.  But I kept on running.  And of course, click, click, clicking away with the camera.  (Fortunately, I didn't hear much complaint from my knee after that until I got home.)

After downing extra strength aspirin and some more electrolytes, I made that down hill run all the way into the second aid station, ipod blaring in my ears, and a wide smile on my face.  Oh, how I love those aid stations!  More potato chips for the salt, some gatorade (and jelly beans in the pocket), I also slabbed pain reliever cream onto my hip.  Then I gleefully phoned my husband one last time to tell him that I had less than four miles to go.  But I warned him, it was NOT the usual kind of four miles.  What lay ahead was the most technical portion of this trail race -- the cursed portion, the portion where I wiped out big time last year. 

Into the Glorious Canyons I Descend -- Did Not See One Single Other Runner During Canyons

Awsome (though I stumble quite a few times through this portion)

The Trail Begins to Smooth Out -- I'm Dead-Dog Tired, "just put one foot in front of the other."

Finally Coming Out of the Canyon -- and I'm a BIT TIRED : )

Running Along Base of Ridge I'm About to Climb up to -- Homeward Bound!

Running Along Ridge, About to Descend -- One Last Look Back

This photo also taken by Badwater Ben Jones.  I was just coming off the trail, headed for the paved campground.  I couldn't run more than a few steps without my calves cramping up.  I saw Ben there with a camera and the last thing I wanted right then was for someone to take my picture : )  I'm glad he did. 

The long stretch in was painful.  I saw Matt walking back to his camp as I made my way through the campground. I stopped a couple times through the parking lot to stretch out the cramps.  But I crossed the finish line with a smile on my face.  And I felt GOOD.  My time was about five minutes longer than last year (about a minute over 5 hours, I think) -- but the course did not beat me up this year.  I was not bloodied and bruised, I did not feel like vomiting.  I simply walked over to my family not feeling like I had just run 30 kilometers through the desert.  I definately call that a success. 

I experienced no more cramps once I got out of those hills.  My hip felt just about the same after the race as it had all week.  But back at home, I was icing an aching knee.  Not a terrible thing.  It was all worth it. WELL, WELL WORTH IT. 

 
So, So Happy to Cross Finish Line (below photos compliments of husband)

Heading off to The Mystery Shack, Where Water Flows Up, and Brooms Stand on Their Own : )

Miles logged:  18.66 (30k) glorious miles

Stats forthcoming (when Calico posts them : )

Final Update

Slept oddly, waking here and there.  Strange dreams all night of overcrowded classrooms, Dr. David Hayword, toy stores, worms, sugar, bread shaped like a teddy bear, thinly sliced-cheese, red roses, want of a single yellow rose and more and more and more -- it was chaos.

Hip ached yesterday.  I continued the icing, stretching all the regular stuff from my "Fast Track" plan.  My cough still lingered.  First thing I did this morning was stretch -- no pain, just a little stiffness.  No cough either.  Awesome.  I have one more full day at recovery.  Please, please, please, let it be.

I am nervous as heck.  I find it difficult listening to people talk -- they add too much detail!  I just want to sit and breath. 

Signing off until after Calico.

: )

Clock Ticks Away as I Move Closer to this Unplanned Physical Experiment

I reached the peak of my illness last night/this morning.  Though I'm still ill, I am improving.  Continuing the hip exercises and foam roll.  I'm experiencing absolutely no pain in the hip doing ordinary things.  Some pain when I stretch, but usually just some stiffness.  No pain whatsoever with the foam roller. 

At this point, it's all about getting well and stengthening that hip.  I'm looking at Calico now as one big experiment -- can I do it, with having run a mere 3.75 miles over the two weeks leading up to it?  And can I do it, happily, joyfully, playfully?  That's my plan anyway. : )

Miles logged:  0

Updating Still . . .

For those of you just joining me in this saga, I am quick approaching the Calico 30k Trail run, my favorite race of the year, the whole reason I began trail running back in June of 2008.  Calico beat me up pretty good that first time, but I finished.  I finished with the promise to return.

After a full year of training, with merely days remaining, I am sick.  Not only am I sick, but I am recovering from some kind of repetitive injury to my hip.  I haven't run in about a week, nor do I think I will be able to run tomorrow, or cross train for that matter in the final days leading up to Calico.

And thus the update for today, Tuesday, January 12, 2010.

I am sicker than I was yesterday.

My hip took a step backward after yesterday's swim. 

I am continuing my "Fast Track to Recovery" plan and trying not to do too much in a day, as far as chores, etc.  I'm just at the point now of seeing what I can do come Sunday, I have no real goals.  I don't really care to get out there and run or cross train until then, because if I'm sick, I fear I'll get sicker.  And if my hip does get increasingly better -- I want to keep it that way til the big day.

As a side note:  I accidentally took double the dose of glucoscomine today.  What the heck is that going to do?  Who knows.  How did I do this?  I took my supplement (1,500 mg) and then later in the day drank one of those joint jucie waters -- which upon close inspection, noticed that it too contained 1,500 mg : )

Here's the good thing about right now:

It's a good thing that I'm sick now and not at the end of the week.  Everyone's been sick in my house, it was only a matter of time.

Being sick also guarantees that I'm not gonna go out there and injure myself further.  I do foolish things like that. : )

Miles logged:  0