Alive, but more surgery

I appreciate all the people who have checked in with me this past year, while I've been struggling trying to recover from the surgery to fix my torn meniscus. It's been incredibly difficult to deal with reading about everyone doing all the things I can't do, like running, biking, even swimming, etc, so I haven't been hanging out much in the blogosphere.

Anyway, I just wanted to update everyone on what the situation is. I found out on Friday that the surgery I had in February didn't work. I am going back under the knife again, most likely this coming Thursday (at least I don't have to wait very long to get back in the surgical suite). I'm continuing to not handle things real well, so I don't expect this marks any substantial return to reading/writing running blog stuff, but I wanted to just let people know, I appreciate everyone who's checked in with me, it means a lot to know people care.

Thanks, and maybe I'll be on the road in 2010.

WWR: I'm serious - this really didn't look so bad when Jessica ran it.

What? You actually want me to finish this thing? Okay, well, the story continues.

We got up at the crack of dawn, piled into our vans and went to the start, at the Budweiser Center. True to team BOMIAS form, we missed the exit (last time one van went the wrong direction on the interstate). Apparently Fort Collins is on the edge of BFE since we had to drive like ten miles to teh next exit.

But we made it, with about a half hour before our start (we were supposed to be there an hour ahead of time). I enlisted Allison as Van 1 Captain and set her to work doing part of the check-in, while I stood in the long ass line for the waiver check.

Then, we hear "Will someone from Back off man, I'm a scientist come to the announcer's tent please." I sent Allison over, figuring there was a problem. But no, they just wanted to interview us over the announcement system. After Allison gave a few tepid answers, I rescued her and tried to be chipper at 5:45 in the morning. I believe John has this on video, but unless he You-tubes it, you will never see it :-)

Anyway, with a few minutes to spare, we got Marie all ready to start the party.
I totally stole this picture from Brady's Facebook page. I'm glad someone took pics!

That's Marie in the pink shorts. Marie is a friend of Kelsey, who is president of the ISU Nordic Ski Club and who I went to Minnesota with for this race. I spent approximately one hour with Marie the whole weekend, since I was in Van 2. I learned after the fact that Marie was famous for opening the minivan door and leaning out and yelling things like "You're so sexy and I want to have your babies!" at the other runners. John also has video of this, and I really hope he does You-tube it for everyone' enjoyment.

So went Marie off and then the long wait for Van 2 began.

We went to the Waffle House.

We went to a very rustic looking Walmart and bought random last minute supplies. Since starting the diss writing, I refuse to read anything of substance, so I got the third Twilight installment (or chick crack as Jamie calls it). I don't even really like the books and I don't like Bella yet I can't stop reading.

We also got some car chalk and for the first time in BOMIAS history, we actually decorated our vans. It only took 4 years. Of course, I am not sure there are any photos of the vans. Other people took photos of our vans. Little known fact: John is an art nerd for his job and once illustrated a book where Chuck Norris was pitted against Mr. T. So Van 1 had a pretty good rendition of Chuck Norris on the side. Van 2 was not as artistic, but the smart kids liked the "Hey there, nice asymptote!" on the side. Which leads me to believe that the next time we do this race that something like "This is my asymptoting over the pass" should be our slogan.

We went to exchange 6 and waited and chatted with the other teams. Roughly at about noon, Van 1 rolled in and Kelsey handed off to Shaun. Shaun is like a bullet and only had a 3 mile leg, so we got ourselves together and sped out of the exchange to make sure I was ready when he got there.

This was my hardest leg. I knew I just had to get through this one and then everything else would be easier. As team captain, I assigned myself relatively short legs (12 miles total), mostly since my running hadn't been as strong as I would have liked it to be. So this leg was 3.8 miles with 400 feet of elevation gain, most of it in the second half.

I started out at about 12:30ish. You notice right away that there is no oxygen. But I went into this leg with no time expectations, so I just focused on getting through it. I even passed someone in the first half! I was petrified they would pass me back on the hill, but they didn't. We chatted as I passed them and they were from San Diego, so they were also feeling the lack of oxygen.

That hill seemed to go on forever. I told myself that if I started running slower than 15 minute miles that I could walk, but I never got that slow, so running was still a faster alternative. I probably averaged 13 minute miles up that hill. As an evil blow, the "1 Mile left!" sign was about 1.6 miles from the exchange. Fortunately because of Garmin, I knew the sign was a lying liar.

When the exchange was in sight, the girl ahead of me (from the Sofa Kings, who we yoyoed with quite a bit) was walking so I decided to add one more piece of roadkill to my leg. At the moment I was passing her, some speedy dude came out of nowhere and said "C'mon girls, we're almost there!" He blew by us but inspired her to start running again, bastard! But I managed to stay ahead of her and finished my leg. 3.8 miles/11:56 min/mi - hey at least I kept it under 12 min/miles!

Then we sent Jamie off - he described his leg below.

Then Brady went off for a big climb. The dude from Team 11 "Can You Beer Me Now?" was determined to catch him (after Jamie passed their runner). That dude was working and was on Brady's tail. He finally passed Brady, but he looked like he was hurting. So that established that team as our nemesis, even though I don't think they knew that AND our Van 1 really liked their Van 1 and had nicknames for them.

Dede and Lauren finished up our set of legs and we went to the same restaurant we went to last time (the Pot Belly) and began the long drive to Exchange 18.

Next up: Seriously, you need to run a relay just to experience the joy of the middle of the night leg.

WWR: The pre-game

So like usual, I am going to do this race report business in installments. Partly because I'm lazy, partly because the posts will get really long, and partly because it provides easy blog fodder so I don't have to think of other things to write.

So the good times began on Wednesday night when Allison and Ryan rolled into Ames. I graciously offered them my sweltering attic room while I crashed on the couch in the nice cool living room. Allison had been talking about Pokey Sticks upon the return to her alma mater town but then she totally wussed out and did not get them and now I have been thinking about Pokey Sticks for a week.

Mmm, pokey sticks.

We met Dede, Brady, and John at the car rental place. I give total props to Dede and Brady, who didn't know anyone on the team, but signed up to run anyway. Such brave souls!

Then began the driving. I got a GPS for my car right before the trip. We named her Phyllis.

To put it lightly, Phyllis was a bit... slow.

Seriously, I never want to see Lincoln Nebraska again. We saw it for about an hour, trying to find lunch. And ended up at Godfather's. Ridiculous!

(Phyllis got her ass returned as soon as we got back. Always go Garmin. End of story.)

Nebraska still takes forever. I'm surprised there aren't more suicides off the arch in Kearney. You get to Kearney and have been driving forever and you are STILL only halfway through Nebraska.

Despite our little setback, we still rolled into Fort Collins at 6:30 or so and met up with Jamie and Lauren, who were complete strangers until that day but had hours to chitchat while they were stuck in the hotel waiting for us.

The eight of us crowded into the mini-van and went to an Italian joint in FC for dinner. Weirdly, the same exact one we went to last time, and I didn't even mean to do it! We met up with Kelsey, Lindsay, and Marie who were CAMPING (crazy people). And then Shaun and Caroline rolled in from the airport halfway through.

Let me tell you - the fact that everyone was actually in the state of Colorado at dinner time, was a major improvement over last time already!

After a Target run, we all settled in for the night at the hotel. Our slow asses had a 6am start time, so we had to be up at 4:30, boo! Nothing like sleep deprivation to start a sleep deprived race!

Next up: This leg didn't look so hard when Jessica ran it!

We looked pretty hot at the start for 5:55 AM

Hey Team,

Here's the start-of-race-pic to compliment Caroline's finish picture.

What'd you do this weekend?

(So, I'm kinda dumb and can't figure out how to force Blogger to split this up into a front-page piece and an after-the-jump piece. If someone else r smrtr, please feel free to do so and delete this. Otherwise, Jesus, this is long. Sorry.)

"What did you do this weekend?" The simple answer is "something stupid." The more complicated one? I ran the Wild West Relay, a 200-mile, 12-person race from Fort Collins, Colorado to Steamboat Springs, Colorado across the Continental Divide at Rabbit Ears Pass.

My friend Danielle organizes these teams fairly frequently (and better her than me), and had several runners for this year get injured, so when she came to me to ask for my help, I said, "Sure, why not?" This led directly to me arriving a few weeks later in Fort Collins to meet everyone else on the team for the first time at a tasty dinner at a local Italian restaurant.

The next morning, bright and early, we drove two vans to the start point, the Budweiser Tour Center in Fort Collins, to check in, put the race signs on our vehicles, and prove we belonged in our division as Flatlanders (folks who live where there's, y'know, oxygen, below 2500 ft). We divided up into our vans there, too: Van 1, with the runners for the first leg, Marie, Kelsey, Ally, Lindsay, and Ryan -- all from the Twin Cities of Minneapolis-St. Paul -- and John, from Iowa, and Van 2, with Shaun from LA, Lauren from Chicago, Danielle, Brady, and Dede, from Iowa, and li'l ol' me.

Marie had the first leg, so at 6 a.m. sharp, she and a handful of other teams' runners went flying out of the parking lot. I should pause here and mention the crazy team names and van decorations. We were Back Off Man, I'm a Scientist. We spent a lot of waiting and running time with teams like It's Only a Flesh Wound, a masters team who did up their vans in Monty Python quotes and fake body parts, We Race the Reaper, a group of ER nurses, Worn Soles, made up mostly of the Annapolis Trail Runners, and the Pipelayers, an all-male team of construction contractors.

After we saw off Marie, my van had nothing to do until the first van finished their set of legs (to reduce congestion on the legs and at the exchange points, the inactive vans couldn't shadow the active ones), so we ate breakfast, picked up a few supplies, then headed to the sixth exchange to wait.

That was the longest five-ish hours ever. We were pumped up, excited, ready to run, and had not a damn thing to do, so we passed the time trying unsuccessfully to relax enough to nap, chatting among ourselves and with teams around us, and checking our watches. When our sixth runner, Kelsey, finally made it in, she had had a terrible time with cramping and oxygen debt, so a couple of us when and ran with her to urge her in the last few hundred yards, whereupon Shaun took the bracelet that acted as our "baton" and took off like a scalded dog. We finished our hollerin', made sure everything had gone OK for Van 1, jumped in our own ride, and off we went! The race was now on in earnest for us.

We kept the windows down and whooped and shouted and banged on the side of the van at every runner we went by, a habit we kept the whole race (save when it would disturb people at night), and one which made us more than a few friends. Van 2 did the same thing. If the Wild West Relay had been high school, Back Off Man, I'm a Scientist would've gotten the school spirit award, hands down.

Danielle took the next leg and ran like a trooper on the first leg of the race classified as "hard." She passed off to me at the base of a hill the constituted the first big altitude rise of the race: 6300 to 6900 feet in 3.6 miles. It felt like running straight up a wall, though the grade wasn't actually that bad. For someone who hasn't run up a hill bigger than 40 feet tall in the better part of a decade, it was challenging. It seemed to go forever, and I got chicked very early, which was sort of discouraging. It wasn't discouraging for very long, though: I got another runner partway up, then passed the woman who'd chicked me before we reached the top of the hill. The top itself was sort of brutal: the road went through a cut that acted like a wind tunnel, creating a tangible wall of air that didn't let up for several hundred meters. The last mile was a gentle downslope, on which I picked off another runner, and fairly flew into the exchange point to hand the bracelet to Brady for his leg. It took just over 34 minutes, which surprised the Hell out of me, since I'm not in what I'd think of as very good condition. I was so pumped about that first leg that I spent the next several minutes just hollerin' and carrying on.

Brady's leg was even tougher, over 800 feet up in 5 miles. He did it like a bullet, finishing strong and handing over to Dede, who had another hard leg. She was hit really hard by the altitude, and felt crappy after she passed the bracelet to Lauren. Lauren breezed through the race's shortest leg and we turned over to the other van in a church parking lot around 2 pm. My voice was already starting to go from shouting and cheering more or less continuously at every runner in sight, louder than anybody else (thanks for the hollerin' genes, Ma).

After that, we went to the Pot Belly Restaurant, a quaint little sit-down joint in the middle of nowhere (not one of the East Coast chain of sammich shops) and snarfed down our chow like starving folks. Well, everyone but Dede, who ordered a salad, took a bite, and realized she couldn't eat. Her altitude sickness was worsened by the 60-mile dirt-road detour we had to take to keep the dust on the runners' route to a minimum. The poor thing sicked up a bunch of water -- that was the only thing in her stomach -- and felt terrible. The view on that route was amazing, however, and many of us got some terriffic pictures.

We reached the Woods Land Cafe and Bar, in Jelm, Wyoming, several hours before the earliest possible time Van 1 could be finished, found a spot to park, and tried to get some rest. It was going to be a long night, any way you cut it. We ate, drank, stretched out next to the creek on sleeping bags or curled up in the van, and waited. While we waited, night fell and the temperature plummeted, from a high of almost 90 when I ran into the 40s. There was no cell reception along most of that portion of the route, so there was no way to find out how far along Van 1 was; ten or fifteen minutes before we thought they possibly could have been there, we went to the exchange point proper to watch for them.

We could see almost a mile up the road, because it wound down the side of the mountain to get to us. All the runners were wearing headlamps or carrying flashlights, and the vans would drive past them. Every van that came into view was "Is that them? Are they here?" We waited, bouncing around to stay warm, and cheering for the other teams' runners as they came in and handed off to their next runner. We waited, wondering if something had gone wrong but knowing that they were out on the longest set of legs in the race. We waited, jogging back and forth from the exchange to the van to get drinks and snacks. Well into the wee hours, several hours after our earliest prediction, the other van pulled in, telling us that Kelsey had been having trouble again but was on her way down to us now. She rolled in to us hollerin' for her, tossed the bracelet to Shaun, and he was off, on a ridiculously hard leg, 9 miles continuously uphill, gaining almost 1700 feet.

He did it comparatively quickly and handed off to Danielle, who covered most of the remaining distance back to the Colorado border downhill. We were waiting for her in a rest stop by the side of the road in Medicine Bow National Forest, trying to stay warm and awake, as it was now past 3 a.m. She came trucking into the exchange neck and neck with two other runners, so I went flying out of the exchange with my counterparts from We Race the Reaper and the Pipelayers. The Pipelayer took off a bit and the Reaper almost immediately dropped the red blinky light we had to wear on our backs, breaking it, so I ran with her for a while until we got to where her van was waiting for her so she could get a new one from them.

The air wasn't cold once I was moving, and the night was positively beautiful. I reeled in a couple more runners, and the middle of the leg, a couple of miles, had no runners near me and no traffic on the road at all, so I switched off my flashlight and just reveled in the pure joy of the run alone in the quiet. Shortly after that, I was overhauled by a whole series of runners from faster teams which had started later as we crossed the border back into Colorado, but that couldn't dampen my spirits, and I kept up best I could until the end of the leg, my longest at 7.1 miles.

As I approached the end, I realized I had gone faster than what I'd told Brady I thought was my best possible time. I wasn't sure he'd be right by the exchange point, and the system of spotters the race used to let teams know their runner was approaching was unreliable at best. So, a few hundred meters out, moving fast and steady, I started hollerin' like a crazy man (and demolishing what was left of my voice) so they'd know who was coming, even though it only took me an hour and a minute. Sure enough, Brady was there just like he was supposed to be, took the bracelet, and away he went.

We had been kind of worried earlier about Dede and whether or not she'd be able to take her leg, but she insisted she was ready for it, so we hopscotched past Brady to wait for him at the next exchange -- which featured a very welcome fire pit right near the exchange point itself -- and she geared up to run again. She did her more-or-less flat segment like a trooper, finishing strong and passing on to Lauren, who brought us to our last exchange for that set, the Walden, Colorado high school, where she turned over to Marie again. We high-fived the other van, they took off, and we took advantage of the comparative luxuries of Walden High: a gym locker room with showers and a heated cafeteria in which we unrolled sleeping bags and passed out. Well, they did; I felt sleep was more important than a shower, so I just stayed curled up in the truck and slept through until it was time to move out for the next van exchange.

That was only a few hours, but I felt amazingly energized by that little bit of sleep, so when we got up at a quarter after 5 and went to a gas station to fuel up and get something to eat, I was really chipper. When I asked the nice old lady behind the counter "How are y'all today?" she was really excited about someone from the South, who'd lived in Carolina, passing through her station. Caffeine, donut holes, and bananas in hand, off we went again.

Van 2 had a short set of legs, so we got to the van exchange and got ready for some of the hardest parts of the race, over Rabbit Ears Pass and the Continental Divide itself. The exchange was near a field of sage that was set up as a camping spot -- a freakin' cold and poky camping spot, according to the other teams who slept there -- along the side of Highway 14. After we spent some time dodging the folks who didn't think that slowing down around all the runners and such was necessary and cheering for other teams' runners as they came and went, Steve, one of the runners from the Worn Soles, and I bet a round of beers on who was going to win between our teams. It added a little spice to the race. Van 1 rolled up and let us know that their runners had mostly done pretty well, but that Kelsey was struggling again. I went partway down the hill that led up to the exchange point and ran up with her again. She turned over to Shaun, then stumbled off the road, crying, and told us it was the hardest thing she'd ever done. She held up, though, and made it to the end. We made sure she was OK, congratulated Van 1 on finishing their part of the race, and jumped in our own vehicle, since Shaun wanted us to meet him 2 miles up the road to give him some water (there were no water stations or anything along the course; we provided everything for ourselves) before he got to the bad part of the hill heading up to Rabbit Ears Pass itself.

We stopped next to a beautiful mountain lake to wait for him -- in the process watching a guy from That's What She Said togged out in a lime-green mesh shirt, a fake handlebar mustache, a sky-blue wig, and absolutely scandalous tights fly up the hill -- and gave him some water. He told us it'd take him longer than he thought, as he was dead legs running. So we went up to the pass, took pictures of ourselves under the sign for the Continental Divide itself, used the porta-johns, and got Danielle ready to roll. Shaun came trucking up that murderous hill, 900 feet up in 3.7 miles, turned over, and we started leapingfrogging Danielle. We stopped twice for her in her 4 mile, to make sure she had enough water, so I started warming up and stretching while we were waiting on the side of the road. I was afraid of what the next leg, 6 miles down the side of the mountain, would do to me if I weren't warmed up properly. Brady did the same, since his upcoming leg was even worse than mine.

Danielle ran straight through, hit the exchange, handed off to me, and away I went, down the mountain. There were actually several nasty uphill spots in the early part of the leg, but by that time, there was nothing left to lose. So, no surrender, charge the hills, which put us over the west peak of Rabbit Ears Pass. There wasn't any question of going slower on the downhill, either: that would've resulted in me somersaulting to the exchange with Brady. My legs really started to feel it about this point; the roads were steeply crowned, which resulted in a lot of stress on the outer side of my left knee. By the time I'd started down from Rabbit Ears, though, it felt like both knees had been worked over with a ball-peen hammer and the rest of my legs hurt, too. No surrender, no slowing down: I trucked as fast as my body would let me down the hill, and came around the bend to see the exchange.

Midway between me and the exchange was a fella I thought was the spotter letting the teams know who was coming in, but he was acting weird and not responding to me when I held up my number so he could see it. So, I resorted to my favorite tactic for letting my team know I was coming: I started hollerin' when I was only 30 or so feet from him. Turned out he was a nature photographer or something, totally unrelated to the race, and I scared the bejeezus out of him. It had the intended effect, though, and Brady was there to take the bracelet. I had such a hard time slowing down that I actually ran about fifty or sixty meters with him before I could come to a stop, which is saying something, because he was flying. The leg only took me 49 minutes, and I was done. I stretched for about a minute, then we grabbed van and hauled ass to get past Brady and put Dede at the exchange.

Brady's leg was one of the more dangerous of the race, because there wasn't a shoulder on the left, so runners were forced to run with the flow of traffic. He had a nearly 7% grade, too. We got to the bottom, and waited, looking for his signature bright-red ballcap. I saw him and said, "Hey, I think that's him." A total stranger piped up next to me and said, "Yep, that's Brady." His aunt and uncle, who lived not too far away, had driven out to see him race. Pretty awesome. He'd been forced to walk for a couple minutes by the sheer punishment of the hill, but he still came barrelling down the hill and passed off to Dede, who was fully recovered from the day before and ready to go.

Dede had a nice, relatively straight stretch with a gentle downhill that took her into the town of Steamboat Springs, winding up along a bike trail. She came in and turned over, and Lauren took off on the last leg, headed for Steamboat Springs Middle School on the bike trail that followed the Yampa River (and boy, was she pissed about the folks taking their ease and tubing down the river). We waited for her at the finish anxiously, ready to call ourselves finishers, while chatting with folks from other teams and chugging chocolate milk, which sounds nasty but was actually kinda nice. She broke out of the woods and onto the track where we immediately joined her, all in our matching team shirts, for the last hundred meters or so, hollerin' and carryin' on the whole way as the announcer read off all our names. We crossed the finish line, together, after 33 hours and change of continuous running, an overall pace of 10:17.

What did I do this weekend? That's what I did this weekend. What'd you do?

Congratulations BOMIAS runners!!

The best-looking team ever got its ass over the pass and reached the finish line with a big smile!

Way to go!





-- Caroline

Happy July 32nd!

I am in denial that it is August. It's not even possible. So I refuse to accept it.

So, in less than a week, team BOMIAS is off to the Wild West Relay!

No one on the team is injured.
Van and hotel reservations are made.
Awesome team shirts are ordered, courtesy of John:













Team number has been assigned: 3. Turns out that Paul gave #1 to the team that won last year, so Armed and Dangerous did not steal our number at the last minute. That seems fair. And it is probably good that we did not have to show them who's boss on the race course... Of the four Flatlander teams, we have the earliest start time - 6am - by several hours. Which probably means that we are by far the slowest Flatlander team. So sadly, our chances of bling are probably non-existent. Armed and Dangerous is next, with a 9:40 start time.

The bonus of the early start though is that, like last time, I expect we'll be one of the first teams to hit some of the exchanges, which means clean port-a-potties, w00t! Our team's average pace is 8.7 min/mile. If everyone actually runs what they say they run, then we'll actually be within minutes of hitting some of the exchanges after they open, which makes me a little nervous, but the hills and altitude will probably keep that from happening.

In other news, I had an excellent run this morning. I ran the first half with Megan from our MC200 team - then she left me in the dust. But I did 7.25 miles at 10:05 pace. My six mile runs up at the lake have been 30 seconds/mile slower than that! All those stupid hills! We have some hills in Ames, but nothing like Okoboji. The weather was beautiful and I felt like I was comfortably running the whole time without any heavy breathing.

In dissertation news, it is still not done. My goal is to make it to Seattle in time for this. I am totally doing the Brew Ha Ha 5k. AND THEY HAVE A SCAVENGER HUNT. I love Seattle and I don't even live there yet.

BOMIAS is overwhelming you with posts today

So Al reminded me we have a blog. Normally I would feel bad about posting right after him and burying his posts, but the sad reality is that anyone who used to bookmark this blog and look at it has long since jumped ship. Only our fair RSS readers (of which there are 54!) will actually see this. And since you can't really be buried in RSS world, I decided it was okay.

Because in all honesty, I was actually going to post today! I know you don't believe me. But I tell the truth.

I was going to post because I ran 6 miles, go me! It kinda sucked though. So six miles is my long run these days. I knocked it out at a 10:43 pace. I can run 3.5 miles at sub-10 minute pace, so I'm happy with that. So yeah... that is pretty much where my running stands right now.

The good news is that, as team captain, I get to assign myself short legs for the Wild West Relay. And in even better news, we actually have twelve people and I made an animal sacrifice to ensure that none get injured before the relay.

But in sad news, some KANSANS went and registered in the Flatlander division at the last minute under the name... Armed and Dangerous. Fucking Kansans. Don't they know that WE are Team Number 1? And they went and ruined it. Now we are Team Number 2. Don't worry Kansas, we're going to be all up in your ass on that course. What is it about Kansas? They were a problem last time too.

Also, there were only THREE teams in the Flatlander division before, which meant GUARANTEED BLING!!!! But now there are four. So we gotta take down at least one team.

In other Danielle in Iowa news - writing a dissertation sucks donkey balls.

And my stupid effing field work is GOING ALL WRONG and I am stuck at the field site still. And 12 hour field days and dissertation writing DON'T MIX.

So the defense has been pushed back. I'm starting to get stressed and mad and generally unhappy about all this. I'm on anti-virals to keep from getting the herp again, because it is trying its hardest to reappear. And the stupid pills have to be taken FIVE TIMES A DAY! Who remembers to do that shit?

Oh and did I mention the part about being on a boat for 12 hours a day when doing field work? Oh did I also mention how dehydrated I am, because I'm a girl. I'm on a lake. Where does one go to the bathroom? NOWHERE. So I just don't drink enough water.

Waaaah! All I want to do is move to Seattle.

Oh, yeah, and I found the race we should run in 2010 (as long as I don't have a wedding to go to)

The Headwaters Relay

It's a little different from most of the relays we've run, in that you camp overnight instead of running through the night. That's because it's run mostly on dirt and two-track roads, some of which are apparently pretty rough. The race website advises that you need "[a]t least one runner who is comfortable running rocky, steep mountain trails". And to keep an eye out for grizzly bears to allow for maximum possible time to make peace before your certain death (phrasing, here, is mine). There don't seem to be a whole lot of rules (this is Montana, after all): between 5 and 10 runners to a team, each team member must run at least 5 miles per day, and, you know, don't start your next runner until the one running has finished (it would seem to go without saying, but the results show that several teams have violated this simple rule in the past). No silly rotation rules or anything like that.

Well I think it sounds awesome, anyway. And their web designer is awesome, too.

Whoa, Al Fails At Internets. Also, two race reports. Small races rule!

So I moved to Wyoming not so long ago, and everyone thinks I've decided to go into hiding because I haven't been blogging or IMing or Facebooking very much (I've heard there's this thing called "Twitter" that all the kids use... I haven't been doing that either). So after finishing my first triathlon today I thought I should blog it. Yeah! I am not dead to the world!

But before the triathlon, my 10k. Yeah, it happened two weeks ago on July 4, the Cody Runners' Stampede. Stampede? Well, Cody is a big rodeo town. Rodeo Capital of the World (self-proclaimed), in fact! The race was a split 5k/10k, starting at the Rec Center downtown. About 200 runners showed up, and the race organizers seemed pretty happy with that. There were no mile markers on the course and I didn't have my watch with me, so I can't give any numbers on pacing. The altitude here in Cody is just about 5,000 feet even, which doesn't bother me at all unless I'm going fast; my track workouts have all been brutal, but my long runs and bike rides have been pretty good. No race website, but I made a map.

The split occurred at the first turn, so all those speedy 5k guys were out of our hair early. I was in second place after the first turn to a dude in a red and white jersey. He led most of the way up to the turn-around on Skyline Road. I took the lead shortly before the turn, on a climb, and he took it after the turn on the way back down the hill. We turned right off the road onto a dirt trail along a creek. On this trail we were running the opposite direction of the 5k runners, which would be fine if everyone just kept right. They didn't, and there were no other 10k runners near us, so we had to dodge through the crowd. I picked up some ground in this section, and I felt like I did a better job picking smooth routes through the congestion (something I had to do a lot in Chicago). Coming out of that section there was a short, steep climb and descent. I took the lead over the hill, but then on the long flat section around the lakes on the east side of town he overtook me and built a significant lead. I couldn't make up any ground on the way back into town and wound up in second place by 20 seconds, 36:57 to 37:17. The winner was under 20, so I did finish first in my age group and win a spiffy green camping chair!

Comments on this race: it was a nice course, too bad for all those pesky 5k runners we had to dodge. I'm pretty happy with my time considering the altitude. I would have been in second basically wire to wire had I not taken the lead twice because of hills (I'm a really strong climber and not so great on downhills) and traffic. Considering the altitude I'm pretty happy with the time. 2 minutes off my PR, but I may have to use a different set of PRs for high-altitude races. I don't think the altitude is worth two minutes, though; I'm in nowhere near the shape I was in when I ran 35:18 (maybe) in Golden Gate Park.

RACE REPORT THE SECOND

Today was the Cody Summer Tri, a sprint-distance triathlon. 500 yard pool swim, 13-mile bike, 3-mile run (they called it a 5k but the course was really only 3 miles). We started, finished, and transitioned at the rec center; there wasn't a big time clock or people keeping track of splits, so I don't have those exactly. I think there were about 40 entrants total, and at most 16 men.

The swim was pretty uneventful... or, if it wasn't I wouldn't have noticed anything, being under water and not having my glasses on. I've only been swimming for a few months, and with no instruction other than YouTube videos; in training I got just under 10 minutes for 500y, but I don't think I swam quite that well today... it's hard to say just why, but I didn't feel good in the water. Hopefully I have a lot of improvement ahead of me in this leg of the tri. I pulled out of the water at the same time as one other guy, and about 3 of the other 8 in my heat were already gone... maybe. Again, I couldn't really see much without my glasses on. The guy that finished with me got through the transition a lot faster than me; he probably had Real Bikey Shoes With Clips And Stuff that he could pull on faster than I could get my running shoes on. He probably also had an easier time seeing which bike was his. I put on my glasses and comically large sunglasses and jogged my bike out of the transition area.

I was a little unhappy with the start-of-race bike directions; coming out of the parking lot we had to make an uncontrolled left onto a fairly large (but, at this time of the morning, not heavily-trafficked) street, and then a right onto the major highway east out of town. They wanted us to ride the left shoulder of the first road, and then make the right at the light like some horrible vehicle-pedestrian hybrid, which is against every principle of safe and effective cycling. It's amazing how many people don't understand that you're most visible and predictable when acting like a vehicle on the road.

Anyway, I came out onto the highway chasing my swim buddy, who was now maybe 50m in front of me, but I quickly realized that I was losing ground and stopped worrying about him. We had a and slight tailwind and a few rolling hills with an overall slight incline on the way out, the opposite on the way back. I managed to get through my whole bottle of Gatorade and about half my bottle of water -- these things are necessary if I'm going to have a fast run left in my legs, so I tried to get lots of liquids down on climbs and other times when speed and wind resistance was relatively low. A nice guy that I was talking to before the race passed me on the way back and I managed to stay within 20-30m of him. We got stuck at a red light just before the finish of the ride... oh well. I didn't race very hard after the stop light, doing some stand-up riding and stretching to get my legs ready for the run. I came into the transition area several seconds after him but left well before, since I didn't have to change shoes. I just dropped the bike off, took off my helmet and ridiculous shades, and started running, just 30m or so behind my swim buddy. I did start my watch at the start of the bike, and checked my time at the exit of T2: 42:56.

Now supposedly triathlons are all about the bike, but I really made my big move in the run. After my quick T2 took back the place I lost on the bike I was in 4th in my heat. My form didn't feel very smooth, especially in my upper body, which was tight from riding, but I was at least able to at least get my stride length nice and long and force myself to turn over quickly. It only took me a couple minutes to catch 3rd (my swim buddy again), and then I was running alone until about halfway through, when I realized I was about 200m behind 2nd. It took me around a half-mile to make up the distance, and then for the last mile I was alone again. I felt like I finished pretty strong, and came in with a 3-mile run time of 17:49. I didn't see the first finisher until after it was over; he said he and the 3rd finisher were out of the pool around 8:30, and it sounded like the 3rd finisher really wore out his legs trying to keep up on the bike. The 1st finisher had a final time of 1:10:thirtysomething, and I was 1:12:07.

Most of the top competitors were in my heat, but one guy who registered late destroyed the field from the next heat, finishing under 1:02. So I think I came in third overall. I'll have to go check the final results later and verify all that, but I'm pretty sure it's right. I feel pretty good for a first-timer.

So here's what I can make of my splits:
500y swim + T1 (no idea what T1 was): 11:22
13mi bike + T2 (T2 couldn't have been more than 30 seconds): 42:56
3mi run: 17:49
Total: 1:12:07

Apparently there's a triathlon in August in Worland, so I might take my second dip then!