So every step from here on out was new territory. Oh, I know we'd just run this loop, but not with 50 miles under our belts (belts!). More people telling us to have a good night. Hmmmm. We blew through aid station 2 and 3, but stopped again when we got back to 2. Yeah, the order is weird. It went 2, 3, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 6, 5, 4, 2, 3, 2, 1(start) cause it did a loop around a lake to start. The guys never met us at 3 or 5. 3 was too soon after 2 for them to bother with. 5 was off limits to crew because of road damage.
It took a few steps after leaving the start again to get moving smoothly. Stopping for any length of time made us cold and stiff. When I had changed back at the 50 mile turn around, I controled myself, keeping my short sleeves and shorts on even though I was cold. But. I did put on my sleeves. If you don't own a pair, I highly recommend them. I had them up, down, on, off, one sleeve up and one down throughout the night. Every aid station I had to remind myself I would warm up quickly cause I'd be shivering quickly after stopping.
When did it get dark? What mileage were we at? I don't remember. I used my favorite head lamp to start. It's light and the most comfortable to wear. Unfortunately, it's a rechargable that only lasts five or so hours.
Oh, also at the turn around, I recognized that I didn't keep having shit in my shoes end up under my one left toe. I decided the entire pad of that toe was a blister and tried to pop it with a hand-sanitized safetypin. It wouldn't pop. I still thought it was just a deep blister. It wasn't till the day after that I finally figured out that my toe that Piper broke was just permantly weird feeling. Now it just feels like I have my sock wadded up under it or it's numb.
Back to the running. I think it was between aid station 3 and 4 that I started falling asleep. The footing was technical. I was staggering. I told the Squirrel something. I'm not sure what. I also kept startling myself awake with odd dreams. Sometimes it was of trail hazzards, sometimes it was the kind of dream that makes you jerk cause a ball is coming right at you or you think you tripped on a root. Shit. Shit. Shit. I have trouble sleeping until I don't and then I cannot stay awake. How was I going to finish. Fortunaely we weren't too far from the aid station. I plopped into the chair the guys had waiting for me. I complained about falling asleep while falling asleep in the chair. I don't know who suggested coffee, but soon I had a small cup of black joe. It was horrible and my hand shook with cold as I tried to drink it. I don't really know how Mindy was doing at this point. After I got the coffee down, we got back on our feet to go. Was it here that Pete joined in as pacer? Maybe. When he did join, we had to wait for him to get ready.
Wow. I was awake. All my little complaints seemed to melt away. Coffee. That simple. Wow. We moved well. This was a good, late leg for me. I knew, though tried not to be too sure, that we'd make it. Coffee. I less than 3 coffee.
I think the next aid station was the one where we sat by a big fire. I wanted to empty my shoes. A volunteer was being very, very, maybe a little too, helpful. Not only did he take my shoes off of me, he tried to dry them out a bit by shoving paper towel in them. I was reassembling them when Squirrel asked for something to blow her nose on. The guy went to give her the paper towel that just came out of my shoe. I siad, "No! She needs to blow her nose." The guy nodded and handed her the paper towel again. He obviously didn't understand that was just wrong. Was it Ann that got her something acceptable? Probably.
Rick asked if I wanted to trade out my head lamp. I figured I'd be good for one more leg and trade at the next aid station. Pete headed out with us again. I think he needed to suggest running a bit as we were giving to walking. I thought my headlamp had totally died. Mindy's light was so powerful that the little light mine was casting did nothing. The shadow I cast in her light was too dark for me to run comfortably. I know Pete wanted us to run, but I was too afraid of falling on the technical trail in the dark.
Speaking of dark, I don't think I've ever experienced true darkness till Hali. It was amazing. When I turned my light off for peeing privacy, I discovered that the dark was dizzying. No lie. I couldn't stand without turning on my light. Amazing. I'm not sure at what point, but the stars did come out; the skies cleared. They didn't really add any light for us to see by, but how brilliantly they shone! It was good to look up, to appreciate where we were, to stretch our necks, ahhhh.
All through the night, not the dreaming part, I was still seeing things that weren't there. I normally see faces just about everywhere anyway. I was seeing snakes on the trail, little animals scooting along my peripheral vision. Mindy was having the same. Then we did see an actual deer. It was huge for a doe. And oddly colored. It was very pale, almost white, yet it had white spots. Mindy noticed yellow eyes. We decided it was our wolves in deer clothing making sure we were OK, perhaps seeing if we were ready for our ride in.
Pete was with us at when we hit 71, one of our milestones. I think he was a little disappointed that we were more happy with it. Just getting it done. At least he was with us when we saw the baby head. It was a real rock the size of a baby head with marbling or striations that looked exactly like a doll face. Yikes!
We pulled into the aid station seven well ahead of the cut off, but Mindy had a big, we're-not-going-to-make-it moment. After the technical stretch we were just through, how long it had taken, she was pretty sure we couldn't do it under the 30 hour limit. But (Thank you, thank you, thank you, Jedi) I'd seen it before. That's exactly what I told Mindy. We had it; we were all over it. I saw George rally enough. I knew us and knew we could. We had just over 25 to go. Did I say that it's an interesting turn around. They don't put the aid station at the turn around point. Rather you hit aid station 7 then run like 1/2 mile up the dirt road to a sign that says, "100 mile turn around". Then you turn around and hit seven again. Like before, we dropped our hydration packs to be topped off. It felt so good to be free of it for this little stretch.
When we got back, Rick said he'd pick us up at aid station 6 and run us in from there. Pete was done; he'd run his farthest ever! Knowing that Mindy was worried about time, I set out at a good clip. We worked mostly in silence on this stretch, but we were working. Rick had told the film crew we'd probably get into aid station 6 by 5:30am. I think they set their alarms looking to get some sleep. But!!! Scout and Squirrel pulled into the aid station a full 1/2 hour faster! Rick was shocked, but ready to head out by the time we were. I don't think we took much time at all at the aid station. The film crew missed us.
Mindy, not a coffee, drinker decided, after my resurrection, that maybe a cup would do her good. What did she say? Something like, I can't believe you people drink this shit. But, I think she felt the effect, because she did not limit herself to one cup. I waited a pretty long time before having more. I wanted to have it in my back pocket, like knowing I could always pull out Underdog's secret energy pill.
I was very happy to have Rick with us. I had worried that our legs might not hold on some of the technical downs. Not that Rick would help us down, but he could run ahead for help if we fell or just having him there, we wouldn't fall.
Mindy started appologizing. She kept feeling like she was slowing us down. I said what about all the times I slowed us for real because I had to use the woods. She was all, that's nothing, that's just what we do! I tried to convince her she wasn't, but we were going how fast we were going to be going. Even after, when thinking about our longer aid station stops, we were not sorry about them at all. It all seemed like just what we needed.
We heard birds! We saw some daylight. We picked off some runners. I think somewhere along the line I realized we were only passing people on the last 25, never getting passed. OK. When I saw someone ahead, I say lets pee now. We wouldn't want to pass just to need to pee and be passed we our pants down. Does it sound weird saying we were peeing? Well, not sure how far into the race it started, but we both were peeing machines. So as not to waste time, we figured to pee when the other did so that we wouldn't be out of phase, taking longer. Remember when I said I turned off my light for peeing privacy? Both Mindy and I used to look for good places to get off the trail when it was light. Now? It was just drop the shorts and squat - even when we were on the dirt roads. Whatever.
At one aid station, 4?, Mindy asked a volunteer what mile we were at. The answer was 140 km (or some amount about there). Mindy retorts she wants to know it in Amercian! The poor volunteer tried some math, but...
Mindy started realizing we were going to do it. My eyes teared up a couple of times thinking about finishing. I had to rein it back it. Things can happen. Don't celebrate yet. We were both tired. Stuff was grumpy. My feet that always hurt, had only just started. Aid station 3!!! Yay Scout and Squirrel. Did Rick point out that everyone knew us? I think both the guys had mentioned that on an off during the event.
Rick said Pete was joining back up with us at 2 to run in with us. Ann was at 2! We asked about the Jedi. We hoped he stayed on the trail and would be right behind us. At two, the guys told us what to expect for the last, what was it...1.8 miles. It was on dirt road. There'd be two hills then it was sort of down to the finish. When we did the second up, I complained when there was another hill up ahead. I think Rick didn't realize that first one was really two. I think I grumbled even though we were that close. We walked the last hill. Gonna run it in.
There was a guy ahead. Soon we were with him. Pete said come on run with us, we'll bring you in. In my mind I was all, hell no. Scout and Squirrel are finishing together, not Scout, Squirrel, and miscellaneous dude. But, Pete got to be good and encourage him, he got to have a better finish cause misc. dude tried to stay with us for a bit, but we kept running, maybe even adding a little speed.
Then I saw that the gate to the forrest was closed. WTF?! We have to go around?! It really was no big deal, but you would have thought they were making us go an extra mile instead of the width of the road. Mindy wasn't complaining, just me. But there was the finish!!! And! And! Unlike lots of events, people stayed for all the finishes!!! We were cheered like rock stars. Went we entered the finish area (didn't seem like a line), we hugged, then both grabbed our heads like, "What the hell did we just do?!" I only know that from the picture some guy took at the end. It's my favorite shot.
I don't think it was long before we were in chairs around a fire. Some guy kept bringing me water. Our feet hurt, but it wasn't at all as bad as I expected. I was still wide awake. We just needed Jedi to come in...
Next installment will be the wrap up.
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Monday, September 23, 2013
The First 50
So, there are so many things I missed on the long road to Haliburton, but the important ones will resurface in the telling of the actual miles. I know Rick was relieved when we were out of the driveway just before the last minute deadline. The time at the start before the race is kind of jumbled together. I know I had a cup of coffee and was thrilled to see how the bags of milk were used (the Canadians have pitchers that house the bags - curious). I know I was in line for the washroom (Canadian for bathroom) where I met a road runner from N. Carolina who was doing the 50 miler. He said he liked to do a 50 now and again so he never felt the marathon was that hard.
Soon it was time for the pre-race prayer and piping down to the start. I was beyond surprised to find myself tearing up. At the start? WTF, me?! Relief to be starting? I have no idea, except that I certainly felt emotion. Then Ann brings out a "Time to Shine" poster for us! I would put a heart, but blogspot doesn't seem to like them. OK, from now on I'll "less than 3" it. Ann, we all less than three you!
The start was at 6 am sharp. Yay!!! Scout and Squirrel were doing it. The Jedi went out ahead of us a bit. We had to use the headlamps; Hali is in the most western part of our timezone. OK. This was good. We were doing it. We settled in to a sort of rhythm. Well, the LSD rhythm. It didn't take too long before I said I thought we had to be running some of the ups, the very runnable ups that the other people were walking. The Squirrel agreed. We put on our very politest, "Excuse me, on the right/left" and pushed on.
Not too long in, I needed a visit to the woods. This is one of the "long road to Hali" things that I didn't cover. Around January, I started with GI issues. They never really resolved. I've mostly stopped losing weight, though I'm down about 16 lbs. The Squirrel has been very patient. We just know there will be lots of stops for me. She walks till I rejoin. Did Mindy use the woods this first time, too? I just know we both were looking for hand sanitizer by the first aid station. They didn' t have any. Guess that's something for crews or drop bags. Our crew, who turned out to be the best 100 crew ever, took 2 stops to get the kinks out, figure out how to deal with the other crews, set up where, have what we need when we needed it, but they did get it together. I had to think back to realize they weren't perfect to start.
The weather was decent, but not ideal. The temps remained in the mid-60s for the day, but it was humid. We also had little bouts of rain, just enough to make the roots, logs, and mud slippery. Still, it was not upper 80s or whatever the VT100 had.
Somewhere along the way (in the 30 mile range?), I wondered why we were doing this. It felt just like our 50s, but we weren't going to be done in just 15 or 16 miles. OK, suck it up. Mindy had blisters starting. I kept having trail debris fill my shoes. So, for every aid station we could blow through just saying our numbers (thanks Tailwind :), we had our share of sitting in our chairs being tended to. Mindy took some real time to pop the blisters somewhere around here. She wanted to get on top of them so they were a real issue later. And though I thought I had all this crap in my shoes, there never really was that much. It also always seemed to be in the same spot. Curious.
The guys told us Jedi was 10 minutes ahead, 15 minutes ahead, then we were getting closer. I'm not sure what mile, but we went by just to have him pass us by not stopping at the aid station. We headed out of the aid station talking to Garth, a really cool local who was running his third Hali 100. The first he DNFed, the second, though in the worst conditions of the history of they race, he finished. He said he was at mile 75 pretty much with lots of doubts of whether he could possibly finish. Garth said he learned a real lesson in perseverance that day. Wow! What a difference from Downer Guy we'd met just a few miles earlier. Though we told him we were doing our 1st 100, DG proceeded to make it sound like the worst possible decision anyone ever made. Ugh.
Talking with Garth, I had an eye on Jedi, not more than 150 feet ahead of us. Garth's wife was the head of aid station 5. She was an ultra runner, too. From the sounds of it, maybe the better of the two of them. You could tell he was proud of her. "Hey!" We were being yelled at by Straw Guy (an older runner who wore colored straws in his hat. He handed them out to the women he wouldn't mind marrying). We'd missed the turn! A very obvious turn! We yelled up to Jedi, made sure he turned, and headed back after SG.
Finishing the 50, we decided to take some time to attend to things before heading out. Squirrel wanted to tend her feet some more. I wanted to change. I asked where was a good place. Pete said there was a wash room and pointed. Turns out it wasn't the building he thought, but one much further than I really should have gone. I should have just changed in the crew vehicle. Oh well. I was happy with our 12hr 8 min 50 time; we were OK.
Well...lets go just a little past 50, at least past S&S's longest run. It was cool heading out and weird too. As we'd pass the 50 milers heading in, they'd say, "Have a good night." I loved it and yet...the night was coming. Nearly around the lake, I told the Squirrel when my the Garmin said we'd gone 55 miles. That beat Peaks 54 (by the way, why my license plate reads "SCOUT54"). Into new territory...
Soon it was time for the pre-race prayer and piping down to the start. I was beyond surprised to find myself tearing up. At the start? WTF, me?! Relief to be starting? I have no idea, except that I certainly felt emotion. Then Ann brings out a "Time to Shine" poster for us! I would put a heart, but blogspot doesn't seem to like them. OK, from now on I'll "less than 3" it. Ann, we all less than three you!
The start was at 6 am sharp. Yay!!! Scout and Squirrel were doing it. The Jedi went out ahead of us a bit. We had to use the headlamps; Hali is in the most western part of our timezone. OK. This was good. We were doing it. We settled in to a sort of rhythm. Well, the LSD rhythm. It didn't take too long before I said I thought we had to be running some of the ups, the very runnable ups that the other people were walking. The Squirrel agreed. We put on our very politest, "Excuse me, on the right/left" and pushed on.
Not too long in, I needed a visit to the woods. This is one of the "long road to Hali" things that I didn't cover. Around January, I started with GI issues. They never really resolved. I've mostly stopped losing weight, though I'm down about 16 lbs. The Squirrel has been very patient. We just know there will be lots of stops for me. She walks till I rejoin. Did Mindy use the woods this first time, too? I just know we both were looking for hand sanitizer by the first aid station. They didn' t have any. Guess that's something for crews or drop bags. Our crew, who turned out to be the best 100 crew ever, took 2 stops to get the kinks out, figure out how to deal with the other crews, set up where, have what we need when we needed it, but they did get it together. I had to think back to realize they weren't perfect to start.
The weather was decent, but not ideal. The temps remained in the mid-60s for the day, but it was humid. We also had little bouts of rain, just enough to make the roots, logs, and mud slippery. Still, it was not upper 80s or whatever the VT100 had.
Somewhere along the way (in the 30 mile range?), I wondered why we were doing this. It felt just like our 50s, but we weren't going to be done in just 15 or 16 miles. OK, suck it up. Mindy had blisters starting. I kept having trail debris fill my shoes. So, for every aid station we could blow through just saying our numbers (thanks Tailwind :), we had our share of sitting in our chairs being tended to. Mindy took some real time to pop the blisters somewhere around here. She wanted to get on top of them so they were a real issue later. And though I thought I had all this crap in my shoes, there never really was that much. It also always seemed to be in the same spot. Curious.
The guys told us Jedi was 10 minutes ahead, 15 minutes ahead, then we were getting closer. I'm not sure what mile, but we went by just to have him pass us by not stopping at the aid station. We headed out of the aid station talking to Garth, a really cool local who was running his third Hali 100. The first he DNFed, the second, though in the worst conditions of the history of they race, he finished. He said he was at mile 75 pretty much with lots of doubts of whether he could possibly finish. Garth said he learned a real lesson in perseverance that day. Wow! What a difference from Downer Guy we'd met just a few miles earlier. Though we told him we were doing our 1st 100, DG proceeded to make it sound like the worst possible decision anyone ever made. Ugh.
Talking with Garth, I had an eye on Jedi, not more than 150 feet ahead of us. Garth's wife was the head of aid station 5. She was an ultra runner, too. From the sounds of it, maybe the better of the two of them. You could tell he was proud of her. "Hey!" We were being yelled at by Straw Guy (an older runner who wore colored straws in his hat. He handed them out to the women he wouldn't mind marrying). We'd missed the turn! A very obvious turn! We yelled up to Jedi, made sure he turned, and headed back after SG.
Finishing the 50, we decided to take some time to attend to things before heading out. Squirrel wanted to tend her feet some more. I wanted to change. I asked where was a good place. Pete said there was a wash room and pointed. Turns out it wasn't the building he thought, but one much further than I really should have gone. I should have just changed in the crew vehicle. Oh well. I was happy with our 12hr 8 min 50 time; we were OK.
Well...lets go just a little past 50, at least past S&S's longest run. It was cool heading out and weird too. As we'd pass the 50 milers heading in, they'd say, "Have a good night." I loved it and yet...the night was coming. Nearly around the lake, I told the Squirrel when my the Garmin said we'd gone 55 miles. That beat Peaks 54 (by the way, why my license plate reads "SCOUT54"). Into new territory...
Friday, September 13, 2013
The Long Road to Haliburton
When I started running 50s, people started asking when I was going to do a 100. Never. That was my answer. I meant it. Rick never believed it, but I did. After Mindy and I did our first 50, Peaks, together, I was sure she'd be running a 100. She seemed to get stronger as the miles piled up. I also think the seed was already planted in the Squirrel.
Then I paced George, the Jedi, at Vermont 2012. I was blown away by the effort, determination, and attitude of the back-of-the-packers. These people were putting everything they had into finishing. It was beautiful. Inspiring. Hmmm. Maybe. I started looking on line at the different 100s. The Squirrel was looking, too. I nixed some just cause of temperature. I was afraid of heat and humidity. When I saw that the highest high for the Haliburton 100 was 75 degrees, I decided it was probably the one I would be able commit to.
Mindy and I registered as soon as it opened. Were we already training in the winter? It seemed like it. We had our kind of adventures with extreme snow, deer carcasses, laughing, chatter, and hard work. Then came the official training. Mindy had Ian tweak a 100 mile plan for us. We DNFed at Wapack, kicked arse at Tarc, and cranked out the miles. Towards the end, Mindy said we needed to buckle so we wouldn't have to do it again. We were tired of the hours and hours of running. Not so much because of the hours and hours of running, but because they were planned. Our weekends were dictated. After our UXB (ultra extreme badass) run, we needed to get away from Brad's twisty, rooty trails for a while. We ran our last long runs at the Androscoggin Riverland State Park, Andy. It was good to run on less technical, less twisty trails for a while. They did have more elevation, though.
There were hard parts along the way. Tuttle and Spot. I guess since our dogs were of similar ages it shouldn't be too surprising we lost them around the same time, but, somehow, it seemed important.
My work interfered. I had a stretch where I worked over 20 something days in a row. Mindy met me whenever I could get to the Brad. Some of of long runs were much later than they should have been. I bonked on a few humid runs; Squirrel pulled me through. Then I discovered Tailwind. I was running on Unicorn Dust. Squirrel switched over, too. Hmmm. It made things easier to not have to think about food. There was more room in our packs, too. I wrote the company to see if they thought it would be OK to use for up to 30 hrs. The answer was prompt. They assured me it was more than fine to rely on Tailwind alone, but that I might find I wanted solid food on a run that long. I could eat, just subtract the calories from what I was supplying with the wind and add some water. Mindy and I felt like we'd just stick with Unicorn Dust.
Mindy and Pete got two new pups. I had puppy envy. My work hours didn't allow for a puppy. Then I realized I could have a dog!!! Rick and I soon adopted Piper (the Squirrel named her :) She promptly caused me a broken toe (no official diagnosis, but it sure seemed like it). I think it was only 6 wks out from Hali. Fortunately, it was only really painful when I landed on a rock or landed unevenly. I was pretty sure it wasn't going to be a problem.
At Andy, where we were enjoying the less technical trail, Mindy fell hard twice on on 30 mile run. The next weekend, part of the taper - just 20, I fell hard aggravating my ribs. Hmmm. That might be a problem. Fortunately, it was less bad than another time I'd done the same thing. The deep breath from running up a big hill wasn't super painful. Sneezing, coughing, or laughing hard were.
Almost there. Jedi and Ann, Pete and Mindy, Rick and I had all taken off the Thursday before. We rented a cool house in the town of Haliburton, ON. We were all making our way there more or less at the same time. For the first hour or so, we were in communication. Then cell coverage and Canadian charges made us travel in radio silence. By the time Rick and I got to our cozy home, Pete and George had a fire in our idyllic fireplace.
We settled in just a bit before heading into town for dinner. We lucked into the best pub in town (at least according to Xar's source). The next day we enjoyed the little town of Haliburton. Bags of milk! I bought a fan at the hardware store to assist in sleep. Then we went to the forest. A quick visit to the Wolf Centre was worth the $10/person. Less than three, less than three, less than three. Then on to packet pickup. I winced when I saw my number: 3. I didn't tell the others. I'm not really superstitious. Science, it works bitches and all...but, shit. That was my number of my first 50, my first DNF. Don't share.
Then our film crew showed up. That's funny to say, but, I'm so glad they exist. How many people get their first 100 professionally recorded?! I can't wait to see how it turns out. Ben was in on the event almost as soon as we were. He had wanted to film the 100 Mile Wilderness, but had a commitment conflict. It was getting chilly. I put on my race hoodie. Shit. Is that a no-no, too? Everyone said it wasn't, but I took it off pretty quick.
The pre-race dinner was yummy, but the event went long, especially since we had to weigh in after (none of us knew about this). I was anxious to get home; we'd be getting up at 4:15.
OK, that's enough for now.
Then I paced George, the Jedi, at Vermont 2012. I was blown away by the effort, determination, and attitude of the back-of-the-packers. These people were putting everything they had into finishing. It was beautiful. Inspiring. Hmmm. Maybe. I started looking on line at the different 100s. The Squirrel was looking, too. I nixed some just cause of temperature. I was afraid of heat and humidity. When I saw that the highest high for the Haliburton 100 was 75 degrees, I decided it was probably the one I would be able commit to.
Mindy and I registered as soon as it opened. Were we already training in the winter? It seemed like it. We had our kind of adventures with extreme snow, deer carcasses, laughing, chatter, and hard work. Then came the official training. Mindy had Ian tweak a 100 mile plan for us. We DNFed at Wapack, kicked arse at Tarc, and cranked out the miles. Towards the end, Mindy said we needed to buckle so we wouldn't have to do it again. We were tired of the hours and hours of running. Not so much because of the hours and hours of running, but because they were planned. Our weekends were dictated. After our UXB (ultra extreme badass) run, we needed to get away from Brad's twisty, rooty trails for a while. We ran our last long runs at the Androscoggin Riverland State Park, Andy. It was good to run on less technical, less twisty trails for a while. They did have more elevation, though.
There were hard parts along the way. Tuttle and Spot. I guess since our dogs were of similar ages it shouldn't be too surprising we lost them around the same time, but, somehow, it seemed important.
My work interfered. I had a stretch where I worked over 20 something days in a row. Mindy met me whenever I could get to the Brad. Some of of long runs were much later than they should have been. I bonked on a few humid runs; Squirrel pulled me through. Then I discovered Tailwind. I was running on Unicorn Dust. Squirrel switched over, too. Hmmm. It made things easier to not have to think about food. There was more room in our packs, too. I wrote the company to see if they thought it would be OK to use for up to 30 hrs. The answer was prompt. They assured me it was more than fine to rely on Tailwind alone, but that I might find I wanted solid food on a run that long. I could eat, just subtract the calories from what I was supplying with the wind and add some water. Mindy and I felt like we'd just stick with Unicorn Dust.
Mindy and Pete got two new pups. I had puppy envy. My work hours didn't allow for a puppy. Then I realized I could have a dog!!! Rick and I soon adopted Piper (the Squirrel named her :) She promptly caused me a broken toe (no official diagnosis, but it sure seemed like it). I think it was only 6 wks out from Hali. Fortunately, it was only really painful when I landed on a rock or landed unevenly. I was pretty sure it wasn't going to be a problem.
At Andy, where we were enjoying the less technical trail, Mindy fell hard twice on on 30 mile run. The next weekend, part of the taper - just 20, I fell hard aggravating my ribs. Hmmm. That might be a problem. Fortunately, it was less bad than another time I'd done the same thing. The deep breath from running up a big hill wasn't super painful. Sneezing, coughing, or laughing hard were.
Almost there. Jedi and Ann, Pete and Mindy, Rick and I had all taken off the Thursday before. We rented a cool house in the town of Haliburton, ON. We were all making our way there more or less at the same time. For the first hour or so, we were in communication. Then cell coverage and Canadian charges made us travel in radio silence. By the time Rick and I got to our cozy home, Pete and George had a fire in our idyllic fireplace.
We settled in just a bit before heading into town for dinner. We lucked into the best pub in town (at least according to Xar's source). The next day we enjoyed the little town of Haliburton. Bags of milk! I bought a fan at the hardware store to assist in sleep. Then we went to the forest. A quick visit to the Wolf Centre was worth the $10/person. Less than three, less than three, less than three. Then on to packet pickup. I winced when I saw my number: 3. I didn't tell the others. I'm not really superstitious. Science, it works bitches and all...but, shit. That was my number of my first 50, my first DNF. Don't share.
Then our film crew showed up. That's funny to say, but, I'm so glad they exist. How many people get their first 100 professionally recorded?! I can't wait to see how it turns out. Ben was in on the event almost as soon as we were. He had wanted to film the 100 Mile Wilderness, but had a commitment conflict. It was getting chilly. I put on my race hoodie. Shit. Is that a no-no, too? Everyone said it wasn't, but I took it off pretty quick.
The pre-race dinner was yummy, but the event went long, especially since we had to weigh in after (none of us knew about this). I was anxious to get home; we'd be getting up at 4:15.
OK, that's enough for now.
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