Road Full Of Promise

Minus the Head Full Of Doubt. Everything seems to be pretty clear now. Yes, the Avett Brothers have got to be pretty tired by now of singing my favorite song as of late.

Before finally hearing from my doctor's office early this morning, I'd had exactly the kind of weekend I really needed. It started with the birthday celebration for my only son, who turned seven on Friday. I don't know but I am pretty sure he is grooming himself to be The Most Interesting Man In The World some day. Rather than selecting some kid-friendly eating establishment for his birthday dinner, he informed us early and often that he would like to eat his birthday dinner at Il Bistro Italiano. I'm not one to say no to one of my favorite restaurants in the valley, so to Il Bistro we went, where he proudly proclaimed that he was going to marry the chocolate decadence cake he ordered for dessert after a really good dinner. That's my boy. Sorry, ladies...chocolate wins.

This was followed on Saturday with a trip to Bananas Fun Park, which normally would be kind of my idea of hell on earth on a rainy day when you're stuck in the indoor play areas and can't go-kart, put-put or paddle boat. There was a purposeful ban on this not being an entire classroom party, though, and Carter just had two little dudes along for some fun. They went down this gigantic wave slide more times than I can count. I think they may have been a wee bit tired after three hours-but then again, probably not. That would be my kid on his face with one of his friends flying down behind him-this wipeout thing seems to run in the family.



Sunday, in contrast, was all about getting mellow, quiet, and mostly turning the brain off from everything. I took care of necessary chores and errands in the morning, and then was able to kind of retreat from civilization and mom duties, and disconnect from everything in the afternoon. I had a very peaceful afternoon of active relaxation, and I was able to just center myself, enjoy, and come back to reality afterward feeling recharged and rejuvenated. Stress and any pent-up negative stuff just faded away yesterday. It was long overdue, and I think that Sunday was the best night of sleep I'd had since messing up the ankle. Just a very excellent weekend all the way around.

Today started with my youngest proving that with four kids, you're never going to get them all being easy at the same time. It had been a struggle to get this usually easy kid out the door for preschool. I finally got her going and was able to do the preschool run, and upon my return there was a message from my doctor's office. They had conferred with a foot/ankle specialist, and he wanted me in with the big orthopedic group in town today. The freelance writer in the area who is writing the alcohol study piece, and who is a regular contributor to Runners World actually consults with these guys regularly for reference in her articles. SWEET. Before I could even pick up the phone to call them back, the ortho group called to schedule me in.

I met with Dr. Price from the sports medicine team in the group. I had been told going into it that I was probably going to be having weight bearing x-rays taken to determine what was going on with that one ligament in question that may or may not have been torn. I'd also been told all kinds of worst case, scorched earth scenarios from other folks who were telling me how long I was supposed to be non-weight-bearing. Well, it was a breath of fresh air when this guy said yes, Boston's 100% out unless a miracle occurs, BUT we can bring you back to doing things as tolerated and not on some cookie cutter time line.

I thought I'd get a tongue lashing for not exactly resting on Sunday, but he totally understood that I was climbing the walls, and said that I'd selected wisely in my activity. My ankle was apparently also far less swollen than some other guy he'd seen the same day with a similar injury. He said that as far as sprains go, mine was definitely as bad as they see short of needing surgery, but that I should absolutely be good to go for fall races so long as I don't do anything stupid in the meatine. This had me doing the little happy dance on the inside, especially when he said that the Bolder Boulder on Memorial Day would be a realistic possibility for me. Sure, it may not be my most stellar race ever coming off of a ton of cross training, but this gives me something in the immediate future on which to focus.

I got to see my MRI on the computer in-office, which was pretty cool since I'm going to get an HMO bill for it anyway, and normally you just have a doctor phoning in these results to you. He explained and pointed out what we were looking at, and it was also reassuring to see and hear that my bones were in great shape for a runner who, as he put it, would be at higher risk for stress fractures with my particular build and and genetic makeup.

What I am on orders to do now is call the PT I mentioned in the last entry, and get in with him ASAP "so Bryan can really beat you up," as Dr. Price said. The one time I went to this PT before, the question was "what is your goal race/event?" and not "Why do you run? Dontcha know it's bad for your knees?" So, I'm actually pretty excited to get in for PT.

I was also told, as expected, that pool running is the way to go for me. I don't even have a gym membership now, and haven't for several years. It's been running, and my dance classes. I guess everything happens for a reason, though. I showed up for my regular adult ballet class tonight to find out that the studio owner canceled classes for the rest of the school year and had neglected to pass this along to me. I gave her some crap via text, because I can-that's my adult female time-but ultimately, that can become pool time now. I got in touch with a friend I know from Girls on the Run/Solemates/Team Tiara who also teaches classes at Gold's Gym here, which I hear has a kickass pool. I'm going to see what kind of specials are out there to be had, and then I'm going to run with it. Underwater. With a weight belt. Not how I imagined my April would go, but I will take it for now. Like the Avett Brothers say...decide what to be and go be it. I'm gonna be an aqua jogger for the next little stretch of time.

I'm No Clown, I Won't Back Down-The Bad News Blog

Referenced song lyric from the above tune, "Fools Gold" by the Stone Roses, a longtime playlist favorite on the iPod when I do solo long runs. The hill the band is walking down at the beginning bears a strong resemblance to the section of slick rock where I doomed myself for Boston.

So, there you have it. This was the blog post I didn't really want to write. It's taken a few days to process the news-I was in shock and didn't know what to think at first. Then I had a good cry about it. My trail running form used to be an awkward, hot mess. I started working in earnest at improving last year, and ran/worked with a friend regularly who offered some invaluable unofficial coaching that helped get me to a totally different place with my running. I used to flop and fall on trails all the time but never wound up with more than trail rash, or the hand puncture at Imogene ("it's just a flesh wound!"...this seems like a time to bust out some Monty Python). If I was going to get the phone call I did-the office manager actually said "It's kind of a mess in there (your ankle)" before launching into the list of injuries-it seems like it should have happened then, not now.

I could list off all the ligaments, but the long and short of it is that I've torn three of them, and also have what is called a marrow edema, or bruising/swelling of bones in the foot and ankle related to the ankle roll and fall. I suspected I was going to get less than excellent news because the thing still hurts and has minor swelling, but had NO idea that my pro-running doc's office would be relaying the message that "she really, REALLY does not want you running Boston, and not at all right now because of the damage you could do." She had said that if there was any way at all to have me go without risking further injury, we'd work toward that goal, but it was a total no-go.

On the slight upside, two of the tendoms appear to be partial tears. We're still waiting for her to talk to the radiologist because of a discrepancy in the report (I guess there have been some wonky reports coming back due to glitches in the voice-activated transcription software they use). One of the tendons is reported as a full tear in one place in the report, and partial in another. It doesn't matter, though-it would not change the bottom line that I will not be running the 2011 Boston marathon, and have not been able to run since I took the spill.

As I said in the previous post, I cannot say enough how much it's helped to have a soft place to land with empathetic friends and family, and fellow runners who have been there and done that, or know how they'd feel in my shoes. When I threw the bad news up on Facebook (since most folks who were wondering my results seem to reside there), it was of the "drive-by" variety. Kind of a cut-and-dried "I won't be running Boston in 2011" and saying I tore three ligaments. I was totally overwhelmed, though, by the ensuing onslaught of comments, and emails and messages from people with medical expertise, offering suggestions, or just general motivation about taking care of the injury now. Again, I almost felt a little sheepish because this is small potatoes in the grand scheme of things. Still, Boston was my thing. Qualifying motivated me when I first laced up a pair of running shoes in late 2006. Getting there last year was an amazing experience. This year was to be the "run for time" after the run for fun year. Sometimes things just don't work out as planned, though. One of the previously unplanned good things to come out of this...

I did something I would not have done if Boston had not become a DNS. The day I heard the news, I was supposed to have a dance class but a)several people couldn't make class and b)I'm not really supposed to be doing anything weight-bearing, even modified cross training, until the swelling is all gone. So, it turned into a night of hanging out with the dance ladies.

None of them run, so I try to not be "running running marathon running marathon blah blah blah" all the time. I save that for the blog, hehe. They were SO incredibly supportive, though, and when I mentioned something joking about "Maybe I should use my guaranteed entry time from The Other Half to get into the New York City Marathon after all," this turned into a full-fledged campaign on their part to get me to register.

The more I thought about it, I HAVE wanted to run NYC all along. It just seemed like a bit much to do two major big-city marathons in one year. Still, the opportunity to run as a qualified runner at New York City was so appealing. For those who are unfamiliar, most people enter NYC via a lottery system, or by a system for local runners in which you run nine NY Road Runners races and volunteer at two. The other way to get in, though, is by time qualifying. They accept half marathon and full marathon times, and the standard is tougher than what it takes to get into Boston. I needed a 1:37 at The Other Half Marathon in Moab last fall, and had a dream race with all factors coming together, making that standard with 33 seconds to spare. Fellow area runner Kevin O'B, AKA "Blue Earth," has run New York City several times as a time-qualified runner (neat article and action shot here from our local paper about him). His excitement and enthusiasm for it absolutely sold me on what I already thought would be a great experience in running through all five boroughs of the city.

Time-qualfied runners also get to start ahead of the majority of the field, and are the closest runners to the elites...we're sort of the "regional class to sub-elite" range. And, I barely qualified for that bunch, but it doesn't matter. I'm in. Or, I've applied, anyway. I still have to wait for them to verify my time, but The Other Half is a USATF certified course with my time published in the online results, so it should just be a matter of a week or two before I get official word.

For now, it's "hurry up and wait." I did use the bike trainer a few times this week but was strongly advised to cut that out for now. According to the doc's office, I'm not even ready for physical therapy, but when I go she is sending me to the awesome local guy I saw the only other time I had a minor injury that needed some work. He and his wife met on the track team at BYU, where she was an all-American, and he's right off the riverfront trail where I do a lot of my running. He's out at tons of the running events (I saw him standing on a guardrail, cheering on runners at the Rim Rock Marathon over the Colorado National Monument in November). His wife was one of our Team Tiara/Girls on the Run charity team coaches when I first fundraised for GOTR, and did my last 20-miler with me before my first marathon in 2008. So, I trust he'll recommend stuff and have me do the kinds of things that will get me back and stronger than ever. Kind of nice to be RIGHT THERE where I run, too, and focus on getting healthy, and back out there running eventually. His injuries website is an excellent resource, by the way, for those of you dealing with injuries. Check it out. His other website, "The Better Runner" (here) has a lot of cool stuff about strengthening and cross-training, too.

For now, I'm going to focus on getting healthy, and not let myself get down in the dumps all the time about not running Boston. I'm sure I'll visit the dump a few times in the coming weeks, but I'm going to try to look at this as a small price to pay to get back into running sooner. It's not worth risking long term health just for one race. It could be kind of fun to be a race cheerleader for the short-term, too. I HAVE already run the Boston course. I'll still be going because it's all paid for, so I won't be longingly wishing I knew what it felt like to race there. I know a bunch of guys and girls who will be there, and they're gonna need support. So, that'll be my gig until I'm cleared to run again. Until then, I'm going to have to adopt the Deena Kastor approach as she went through a period of injury down-time and cross training in the training cycle just prior to her first major marathon win. Sometimes the moments that challenge us, define us. It's just up to me to be optimistic, and give my body proper time to rest and recover fully. I'm no clown, I won't back down, and I'll be running again when all is said and done.

I Wanna Shine On In the Hearts Of Men, I Want A Meaning From the Back of My Broken Hand

Tomorrow morning, I should be getting some answers pertaining to Boston, and whether or not I'll get to run there. While I may not have a broken hand or foot, things aren't looking much better than if I'd just broken my ankle in Moab.

I went to the doctor again this morning for a follow up exam on the left ankle, and the news was rather discouraging. While the swelling has gone down considerably, the ankle still is not entirely back to normal size eight days after I injured it. It's still tender to the touch, and though I was cleared to ride a bike and pool run/swim, running is entirely out of the question. I was advised that normally, she would not order an MRI at this point. With the short timeline between now and Boston, though, and totally getting how important it is to be able to follow through and run a race after putting in all the training, she got one scheduled for me tomorrow morning. This is the great thing about living in a community supportive of running. She'll be able to see and know for sure exactly how damaged the tendons are, and if I can, as she said "get away with" racing after taking things super-easy for the next two weeks, or if the tendons are so damaged that I'd be guaranteeing a long hiatus from running, permanent damage and/or surgery.

I know this is small beans and it's just one race, but it's one BIG race for me for a variety of reasons. It was a pipe dream back in 2007 when I ran a local 5K at what was my Boston-qualifying marathon pace, and was spent at the end. Still, I thought that if I worked hard and trained well, I could get to the point where I could sustain that pace for 26.2. The race is pretty important to me regarding the history of women in sport. I thought of what Kathrine Switzer did in breaking ground for us ladies years ago at Boston, and it really made me appreciate being on the course, and just blending in with everyone else that much more. It was SUCH an amazing experience racing it last year, but this was supposed to be the year to knock one out big time on the race course. Even if I can't chase down a 3:20 marathon with so much time off from training, just running the historic course and making that final "Right On Hereford, Left On Bolyston" with wall-to-wall spectators will be plenty fulfilling in its own right.

So, that's where I am. Waiting for answers and hoping for some good news. I've been overwhelmed with the support and positive vibes from friends, runners and nonrunners alike, and makes me feel almost a little sheepish because really, it's a race. It's an ankle sprain. Nobody's dying, and if they've held Boston for 114 years already, it'll probably be on again next year. Still, it's been reassuring to hear from friends who have been there and done that with this injury and others, or who just empathize with unexpected setbacks. A good friend and sometime running partner made the point today that it's not worth pushing my way through one race on a questionable ankle, even if I'm cleared as borderline, because of the big-picture and long term ramifications. He's definitely right. It's just hard, though, to reign in with the thing that, beyond being a mom, gives me the greatest sense of satisfaction. I'll try to get a good night of sleep tonight, and then will be up at o-dark-thirty in the morning to let the folks at the hospital's imaging pavillion do their magic.

24 Hours of Moab: A/V Club Edition.

Yes, I am bringing the photo and video badness to my fellow runners and friends yet again. Somehow, the job of unofficial event photographer for the Dirty Girls went to me, which is comical for a multitude of reasons. It was an enjoyable gig, though, and it was cool to preserve some of the memories from the weekend that have also been shared with my teammates, their friends and family. This was a little video clip from the ride into town for dinner on Friday night with Jen behind the wheel, and Sara and Nick sitting in the back. Instead of Dirty Girls, maybe we should have named ourselves Team Dork, or honestly, Team "We Find Ourselves Highly Entertaining...Even If Nobody Else Does"

Then, there was the infamous missed baton handoff during the first run through the rotation, during which I was.......elsewhere. Doing something. Something that was not waiting at the tent to receive the baton from my teammate. Nick and I discuss. Meanwhile, Mad Dog Mike eats potato chips to fuel up for his lap. Let the record state that I was NOT doing my hair. That should be plain to anyone who views this clip.

Here's my teammate Julie, who was also our default team captain, passing off to Sara. This is sort of the story of our team. Members randomly wound up with certain jobs, and everyone just kind of ran with whatever they got without question. I knew everyone but Sara (with whom I had been chatting on our team's Facebook group page, along with everyone else) coming into the race and sort of expected this would be the case, but it was great that it did play out that way.

One thing that I do regret a little is not taking my camera or the iPod out and around the actual trail loops on the Monitor and Merrimac Trails. What can I say-I was pretty focused on racing all-out on my day laps, and we were just kind of letting the day unfold as it may for the in-between-laps portions. That said, I did get some shots of the campground, and the La Sal Mountains off in the distance.

Making an awkward segueway from the serene and peaceful to the just plain silly, there was another product besides Kick Ass Sinus joining the all-namer team around camp. This is a product that is used for...well....Nick describes it as problems that arise from....swass. Or...swenis. I wouldn't know firsthand about that second item so I'll just take his word for it. Raise your hand if you know who Bjorn Borg is, and keep your hand in the air if you think Mike bears more than a passing resemblance in this photo (I did not take the one of Mike....I think it was from either Julie or Shannon)

Our camp was made up of an assortment of cars, tents, campers, and best of all, Shannon's Van Of Awesomeness. She and her husband (a top area triathlete, ultrarunner and artist-check out his work here, very talented guy. Grand Junction locals should recognize several of his landscape oil paintings) recently acquired it, and it wound up being pretty useful over the weekend. I was able to nap on the bench in there during overnight drizzles, and it brought back fun memories of my grandparents coming to visit in their VW Bus/camper, and letting me sleep in the narrow "upstairs" sleeping area, which was also a feature of Shannon's van. One of my favorite parts of the van was the "nature scene" on the wood paneling inside the door...1970's and 80's decor in all of its glory. She is also working on curtains for the van out of old race shirts. I've seen quilts of old race shirts but never curtains. They should add even more character to the joint.

I mentioned Melody Fairchild being at this event in the prior blog. She still holds the course record at the High School National Cross Country championships, and was a two-time winner there. I warmed my hands around the fire next to her at 2am waiting to start laps, and she was as unassuming and friendly as they come. At some point during the weekend, Jen was monkeying with my camera, took a random test shot and happened to get one of Melody, pictured in the middle in green and black. It's great that she's still running, and doing her running camps for talented high school girls (teaching healthy body image and good nutrition, which I love. Great article on here on her struggles since high school and subsequent comeback).

There were other colorful characters as well. I can say, without a doubt, that this is the first and only time I've encountered a runner wearing a kilt and Vibram Five Fingers. It took me awhile to figure out that the kilt was being shared by his teammates, and donned by whichever runner was out for a lap. Little bit of an "ew" factor there to me with sharing a sweaty kilt, but hey, to each his own.

This just amused me. One of our camp dogs, locked in a staredown with his lifeless opponent.

Finally, a shot of my teammates, minus Shannon who was out running a lap for the team at the time. These guys were smiling throughout the event, and I never heard a complaint from anyone even though several of them were dealing with injury and illness issues. They really made it a pleasure.

That just about covers it. Dirt. Slick rock. Mud. Coughing. Sweating. Falling. Laughing. Smiling. Running. Living. This is what it's all about.

The Best Laid Plans/Under The Milky Way Tonight: The 24 Hours of Moab Race Report, Part 2

When I last left off, the Dirty Girls were up, running, and had made it through the batting order one time, finding ourselves in a dead heat for the lead with team Monkey Love in the Open (6-10 person) division. We didn't come in with a ton of killer instinct to make mincemeat of the competition, but we are definitely competitors. This was good motivation to really hammer out our afternoon laps, and stay on the ball with smooth baton handoffs. It was a great time of day to spectate the laps of our teammates, and I did wander over for several of the exchanges. Jen passed cleanly off to Nick...

And then, in 45 minutes or so, I was NOT in the tent doing the sunscreen-I was waiting right there for the baton, no search party required to locate me. The baton was handed off with a dramatic flourish, and off I went again. This time, the heart rate was down a bit since I didn't have the hurry-up start, and even though I'd done the equivalent of a speed/hill workout combo in the morning, the body felt great and loose. I POSED my way up the slick rock, and noticed a weird trickle of fluid up ahead. Looking up, I see that the dude 20 feet ahead is actually taking a leak WHILE running. Seriously? Yuck. Pull off to the side, man-you're not going to save any time over the course of 24 hours by peeing on yourself and on the course.

When I turned back downhill, I was really flying, but continued to focus on running the tangents across the slickrock, and just staying mentally sharp. It's neither smooth nor flat, and that surface is pretty damn hard if you go down. I made it down to the winding dirt trail feeling strong, and just enjoyed this pretty, secluded section of trail that moved along a wash before climbing back up to the road for home. When I came back in, I was pleased to stop my Garmin a smidge earlier than on the first loop at around 49:50 before handing off to Julie again.

We were now at a really mellow part of the day. Some of the Mad Dogs and Dirty Girls hung out in chairs around camp, telling stories about snakes, other adventure races (all I can say is WOW to a certain story about a famous "White Horse" who figures in prominently to that barefoot running book that Chris McDougall wrote), and randomness.

Many took this as an opportunity for a midday snooze. I am not much of a napper or long sleeper, so I wandered around to catch my slumbering teammates. During this stretch of time, I also took a trip into town with Jen and Nick, just to grab a few random items and to get a slight change of scenery. Upon our return, we fueled up on chili with our teammates, and started discussing the night runs. Now, I run regularly in the wee morning hours with a head lamp. Currently, I'm out twice a week at 4:50, and last summer and fall, I was averaging three to four early mornings a week because there are just more runners in the nice weather months willing to get up at the butt-crack of dawn to run. That said-most of it was on paved surfaces-road, bike trail/path-not true trail running in pitch darkness. Still, I felt pretty confident that I could slow myself down just a little bit and get through it safely.

Mike suggested that we try running with a flashlight in hand along with wearing the head lamp. One of my sometime-running partners actually prefers to run with just a flashlight if he needs anything at all during an early morning or evening run-doesn't even own a headlamp-and never has issues. Seemed like a good thing to try out even though I normally don't run that way. The sun was setting as Nick was out for his third lap, and this meant I was going to be the first person on the team doing a loop through the darkness. I was a little nervous, but also excited at the prosect. There's something freeing about running in the dark, and I almost feel like I expend less effort and go a little faster that way. I don't know...it's just very zen.

When I began my lap, I was very conscious of lifting my knees so as to not catch my toe on a rock and take a digger. I remained relaxed, though-a key to staying upright. Just after the first mile, I got a little bit off-course into some brushy stuff and had to momentarily stop. Soon, though, I saw one of the green glow sticks being used to mark the way. Moving to the slick rock, I had to start looking for the white hash marks to find my way. This was a bit tougher, and I was kind of weaving and not running the tangents so well. At one point going uphill, I did stumble and tip over but I wouldn't even call it a fall. I sort of caught myself, stood up and kept going.

Coming back down, Audra from the Mad Dogs came up alongside me, said hello, and moved just a little bit ahead. I tried to pick up the pace just a bit to see if I could stay with her, and it felt good. This actually made for a much brighter path, too, with both of our head lamps and my flashlight. The flashlight was working out fabulously-I could use it to spot the white hash marks or glow sticks without really having to turn my body. I finished up this lap at 9:30 pm and in about 57 minutes-a time I thought was pretty decent for total darkness, and not trying to run fast and stupid. There were updated standings posted by now, and we now had a miniscule lead over the Love Monkey team. I did my first night watch shift, which involved just hanging out and waking up the person two ahead of me in the rotation when it was about 15 minutes out from their run time. Then, I headed over to Shannon's van of awesomeness. I would be napping on the padded bench/couch in there (did I mention the van had HEAT?), and when I curled up in there it felt like a five star hotel. Of course, I was pretty grubby for a five star hotel after three cycles of run-sweat like a pig, dry off, repeat. Still, it was nice to have relative luxury at this point when I was kind of tired and needed a decent nap.

At around 2 am, Jen woke me up for my last loop. I was SO nice and cozy and had a bit of trouble getting up at first. Once I sat up, though, I realized I did feel pretty good. A little coffee at the aid tent while I was waiting really helped too. There, I wound up standing right next to former national cross country champion Melody Fairchild, who was there with one of the ultrarunning training groups. That's something I love about this sport-you don't get to stand side-by-side with greatness in many other sports.

As the time for my turn grew closer, I was standing around truly disturbed by some of the Spice Girls and other tunes coming from the radio-and thinking wow, I'm getting ready to run in the dark at 2:30 a.m. It was just cool to see bobbing lights moving down the road in the dark, and just waiting until the runners got to be about ten feet away before they took recognizable form. When Nick made it back in, it was finally time for me to go for what would be my last lap of the race. I was off to a great start this time. I anticipated the spot where I wandered off into the brush on the first night lap, and made it through without steering off-course. Right on.

As I moved up the slick rock, I did notice that my breathing was great, I felt alert and relaxed, but wow, the legs were kind of gooey and tired. I paid special attention to moving safely and lifting my knees, but the ankles were a little loose and rolly. Coming to the halfway point, I noticed several runners who were steering off-course and just getting plain lost momentarily before rejoining the trail. I turned to the downhill section and thought this is it...just 2.5 miles or so and I'll be at 22 miles for my team.

Probably about three miles in, though, my glitch for the mission happened. I was running, and then without warning I rolled my left ankle REALLY hard, and down I went. The pain in that instant was agonizing; I have never fallen and felt anything like that before. It felt broken, and I thought s#it, there goes Boston. There goes my team winning or placing. I pulled myself up slowly and tried hobble-limping. This hurt tremendously BUT I could move on it. So, maybe it wasn't broken. As I kept moving, it still hurt a lot but it seemed like I could get away with a hobble-jog. I soon was able to get back up to a slow run and it seemed like my ankle was pretty well numbed up by now. Nobody is going to come to rescue you out here so regardless, I pretty much needed to put on the big girl panties and finish this lap off.

My Garmin died somewhere late in this lap so I really don't know my time. I think it was probably about an hour and fifteen minutes with my fall, and time on the ground, walking, and slow shuffling. Still, I was SO glad to be able to make it in and not have a huge impact in the big scheme of things. I chowed on a grilled cheese sandwich and potato soup at the tent during my watch time, and then took a three hour nap after waking Shannon, who filled in for Sara to be the only person on the team to get in a fifth lap. This wound up being the last official lap, as there was maybe forty minutes left in the race. Jen decided to go do a lap just for fun since she was up anyway, and we all started making our way to the aid tent, knowing that we were going to place. We just were not sure which position.

Soon, they were going through the different categories of the race, and finally they arrived on Open Co-Ed. Third was announced...not Dirty Girls. Second...not Dirty Girls. First place...with 134-odd miles...DIRTY GIRLS! We were ecstatic, jumped up and down like little kids, and collected our medals. Soon, we were taking photos and high fiving...until the race director got on the mic. There was a scoring error, he said. Another team actually had one more lap than us, so we would need to give back our medals and exchange them for second place. Now...we'd seen a runner come in at 7:02 from that team. The race ended at 7:00am. It seemed that the winning team may have lobbied for that lap to count. We were kind of perturbed, but whadaya gonna do? We had run our asses off, had supported one another throughout, worked well as a team and basically couldn't have had a better experience together as a team. Almost everyone was sick, a little injured (or, if you're me, became a little injured). Still, we got out there, and gave it our best shot for the good of the team. Sounds corny but we felt like winners even if the results didn't officially reflect this. The Mad Dogs also had a stellar showing, finishing third in the Extreme Team division with their three member team, and against larger and "known" teams (winning team from Eagle/Vail included Western States 100 champ Anita Ortiz). It was a good day for our motley crew.

We got some nice team shots, and then headed back to strike the camp and roll out of town. The weekend seemed to have flown by in a blur, and like childbirth, I didn't even remember the painful parts, like wiping out, or that I reeked of campfire and sweat. No, this was a really special weekend and I kind of didn't want it to end. We all had to go back to the real world, though, so after saying good-byes, Jen and I headed to breakfast at the Jailhouse Cafe (I LOVE their breakfasts, but they never seem to be open when I'm in Moab for races), then headed east to Colorado.

Back in town, that ankle has become more than just a passing tweak. By Sunday night, I couldn't bear weight on it. The thing looked like someone had taken a bike pump and inflated it. By the next morning, though, it looked better and I thought that if I skipped my morning run, I could get away with doing a greatly modified ballet class. WRONG. Made it halfway through, and pulled what we call the "adult card." Ironically, we talk about it a lot but rarely play it. Tonight, I knew something was messed up, and quit when I saw it puffing up literally as class went on.

I did make it to the doctor, and got what was initially devastating news to me. She told me it was so swollen she couldn't even do a proper exam, ordered an xray, anti-inflammatories and pain meds, got me a walking cast/boot, and said that the Boston Marathon was probably out even if it was not a broken ankle or other bone. I was crushed. I'd been running well, was focused, and just had a tired body when I fell. When the x-ray came back, though, the doctor's office called to tell me that there was no fracture, and that she wanted to see me in a week, not two, and "talk about getting you to that race." I don't know for sure, but I foresee a LOT of time with a bike on the bike trainer I won as a door prize at that New Year's Day ski race. And that's okay. I'm thrilled and relieved that Boston is still probably going to happen.

I absolutely loved my experience in Moab, even with the ankle debacle. You just can't go through life never doing anything because there's a possibility of getting hurt, or because it's a little scary or out of your element. This really pushed me out of that comfort zone in many ways, but there was also this great group of people there for it all, having one another's backs and being there for one another. We loved the experience so much that there's already talk of doing "Dirty Girls II-The Laramie Project," and running the same event in Laramie, Wyoming in June. If I don't get hit by a bus between now and then, I'm there with bells on, and trail dirt on my shoes. I am a Dirty Girl, after all.

The Best Laid Plans of Mad Dogs and Dirty Girls: The 24 Hours of Moab Race Report, Part One

It's sort of impossible to give this weekend justice in the form of written word and some pictures. I'll do my best, though, rather than what I did this fall with no blogging or sharing about great people and places that were part of a somewhat magical racing season. If anything, it'll be another tribute to Moab, and to the wonderful people who were my teammates last weekend. I'm also splitting the whole thing into two parts. There's a lot I'd like to share, and as I've been writing, something that happened in one of the later laps has gone from being a seemingly minor concern to something that has more serious ramifications than I first thought.

The day finally came when the six members of our team-me, Jen, Sara, Julie, Nick, and Shannon-were all due to convene 16 miles north of Moab for our 7am Saturday to 7am Sunday running relay adventure. Nick, coming the furthest (from Wyoming) had successfully made it to Grand Junction the day prior, and I'd already gotten to run with him at the Tabeguache for the Striders Thursday evening group run. He was coughing up a lung and not sounding healthy at all, but excited and ready to go nonetheless. Nick planned to caravan down with Jen and I, but when Jen ran a little behind schedule to my house, he decided to go ahead and scout out the staging area where we'd be camping. Jen showed up right after Nick hit the road, so about two hours later we did make it down uneventfully. All of the teammates but Shannon were there, along with Julie's husband Mike who was running for our "sister team" (brother team? other team?), the Mad Dogs, in the Extreme Team or 3-5 person division.

We got our camp pieced together little by little, and soon we had our home sweet home for the weekend set up. Runners bring all kinds of stuff along to races, and the variety seemed to be times ten for a weekend-long relay. This was one of my two personal favorites: Julie, modeling the product, Kick Ass Sinus, says it really is advertised, too. I will have to remember that the next time I get a sinus infection. Once everyone who was coming Friday night had arrived (Shannon would be arriving early Saturday morning), we visited Eddie McStiff's in town for a nice meal and an adult beverage or two. After that, it was a quick trip to City Market for a few supplies, and back to camp, which was surprisingly quiet even though it wasn't all that late. The quiet along with the clear, starry night skies made it feel like we were on sacred, hallowed ground, and I think maybe we were this night.

After a very cold night during which I did not really sleep, but did have good quiet rest time, it was time to get the party started. We settled on a running order (I would run fifth, with Nick and Julie at #4 and #6 in the rotation, and awaited the arrival of Shannon. Shortly before the 7am start, a large camper van parted the crowd and I comment that it would be funny if that was Shannon. Oh, wait....it is! With all teammates now present and accounted for, and the start time approaching, we gathered near the aid tent/station/check-in point. It was pretty well stocked with coffee, cocoa, and hot water for tea along with some other munchies. Runners and crew milled about nervously, building mojo for a big day ahead. Soon, the moment arrived when our first Mad Dog, Mike, and Dirty Girl, Sara, were officially up on deck and toeing the line to kick off the 24 Hours of Moab. Along with relay teams ranging from three to ten members, there were also individual and duo 6, 12, and 24 hour competitors, and individual 100-mile competitors, who had 30 hours to get it done. And here they are...first on deck:

On your mark...get set...GO!

They got off to a brisk start, with Sara already near the front of the pack of the first lap from the get-go. This did not surprise me...she'd kind done the playing down "I'm not an ultrarunner" thing, but I'd heard about her Imogene Pass times, and how strong and fast she was. With that, there was now nothing to do but hang out-and hang out we did, back at our campsite and around the grounds.

As we made our way through the first rotation, Sara flew through lickety-split for anyone, let alone someone with a knee issue like she had. Moving on to Shannon (we'd nominated her to go first in her absence, but wound up putting Sara first so there was time to settle in and get ready), things kept moving along swimmingly. Jen was third in the rotation, and even though she's been sick a lot in the past year, she was one of our healthiest today and cranked out a great first lap. Then, Nick set off on his lap and I thought I had his finish time guesstimated pretty well. He was sick as a dog but still pretty speedy-so speedy, in fact, that I was at my tent applying sunscreen when I heard "Karah?" Whoops. Talk about a jump start to your first lap.

I grabbed the baton and bolted accross the lot. We probably lost three minutes with my being MIA, so I really tried to haul buns once I was officially on the course. Laps on the trail were to alternate between clockwise and counterclockwise, and I would be moving around the clock once I reached the end of the stick on this lollipop course. Once off the dirt road, I meandered over sand, more dirt, and then up a steep section of slick rock. The views were just amazing. I've been down here a million times but the beauty of this place gets me every time. I practiced my POSE running uphill, and then had to switch into downhill form at about 2.5 miles in. This is probably the hardest part of POSE to me but I think I did okay. Doing it right kind of leaves you feeling like you're going to pitch forward onto your face all the time, but I never did, thankfully. After moving down slickrock for another mile or so, I moved onto a dirt trail, meandered for awhile and climbed upward to the dirt road that would take me back home. My first 5.37 mile lap was finished in roughly 50:10. Not terrible for dropping the ball and just not being prepared when Nick came in. I passed off to Julie, and she went out to do her thing, completing her lap solidly. For being kind of the Bad News Bears newbie hodge-podge crew, we rocked the first rotation even with a bad handoff or two.

Now there was nothing to do but hang out and kill time again. This was actually kind of nice-when do you ever get to just sit around and hang out without any obligations or responsibilities? There were a lot of random stories told, and it sure seemed like we did a lot of diving into the food and snacks. Okay...maybe that was just me. At least I also did some hopping around and being silly in addition to the running to burn it off. We had a ton, though, as did the race, and I just wasn't saying no to any of it.

At some point, the race director announced that current standings were posted by the tent. A few of us wandered over, and lo and behold, the 5 woman, 1 man Dirty Girls were just a little bit behind a team called Monkey Love that was made up of 10 runners and a 50/50 gender split. One of them looked at the standings next to me, and said quite seriously, "Last year some whippersnapper snuck in and beat us for first. NOT THIS YEAR!" Um, okay, then. Beyond that, there was another team in third that was already a good 20 minutes back from us, with all the other teams a lap behind or more. That's how standings are figured-total number of laps, and if it comes down to a tie in the end-the team that reached the end of a lap the earliest. It's all-or-nothing, too...if you don't complete the lap in its entirety, or don't make it through by the ending of the race, it does not count. OR....should I say-is not supposed to count. More on that in part two. We were pleasantly surprised at where we stood, considering that we came in to run with friends, and not with "kill kill kill-win win win!" Going in to the second rotation, this was great motivation to kick it up a notch and run hard. More of the race report and ensuing fun coming up soon.

TO BE CONTINUED.....(there....now I have to finish what I started rather than never getting it going.)

Vu-Ja-De

Just a quickie as I am approximately three hours away from heading out of town once again to a very familiar place-Moab-but for something that is going to be a new and unfamiliar experience.

The website Urban Dictionary has the following definition listed for vu-ja-de:

"Opposite of deja vu. (1) It's when you know you have never been there before. (2)An experience nothing like you have seen or felt before. (3)Never have imagined living in the moment.

I'm pretty sure that the 24 Hours of Moab running relay qualifies as vu ja de. I'd wanted to participate in a relay event for a long time, but it's one of those things that is hard to coordinate when multiple people and busy lives are involved. Somehow, though, we've managed to pull together a team from a tri-county area here in Western Colorado, with two of us from Grand Junction, one apiece from Olathe, Montrose and Delta, and the "Pimp Daddy" of the Dirty Girls relay team, Nick (check out his blog here...lots of great random stuff from his wandering and traveling), who lived here at one point but now lives and works at his park interpreter/naturalist/ranger gig in the Tetons of Wyoming.

Our geeked out-ness over the race has built to a frenzy as the week has progressed-lots of chatter with teammates on our Facebook group, and a little bit of fun smack talk with the Mad Dogs, another team going down for the event. None of us has run such a thing before, and we're kind of like little kids on Christmas Eve with our excitement. We're too inexperienced with something like this to have any fear or concerns. This could be very, very awesome, or we could find ourselves asking "What are we doing out here?" at 4 a.m. on Sunday morning. Maybe both.

Either way, I'm stoked. Really stoked. I am actually chomping at the bit to turn in some good laps when it's my turn after my craptacular Canyonlands run. I'm stubborn, and little setbacks just fire me up to come back swinging. I have no idea what I will be reporting after this weekend of totally unfamiliar activity, and after being wide awake for most of the weekend (that could be some funny stuff if I blog right after). I do know that I've got an excellent team-people who really embody the meaning of the word team. Therefore, it's going to be a good time no matter what. Looking forward to this new adventure, and discovering what adventures are in store for us this weekend.