Routine run

I STILL have been running less than I'm scheduled, but I've been doing better. The fatal flaw is when I'm down in Marin for my week of work. Getting motivated to run at all in between busy 12-hour night shifts has proven increasingly difficult for me. I did well when I had (for a brief time) a running partner, but left to my own devices I just decide to lay in bed a little longer.

When I'm home, I do fine. The other day, after not having run for a week, I went and cracked off a nice 17 miler. This was surprisingly easy to do, and the "easiness" gives me hope that I will be able to complete my ultra in two weeks without too much difficulty. (Hah! It might actually take me two weeks!). Oh, I know that 17 does not equal 31, but let me delude myself a little while longer.

I ran the Emigrant Trail, site of many long runs for me. I usually leave my car at one end and get dropped off at the other (I'd show a map, but I'm writing this on my phone and that's just way too complicated). Depending on exactly where you park, you're either in for 8.5 or an 11 mile run. This time, I parked -- and doubled it, for my 17 miler. A lovely Tahoe day.

Parp?

This is perhaps the best blog post I have ever read.

Yer comments!!

I'm not sure what the proper blogging etiquette is regarding responding to comments ... Do you respond in the comment section (requiring readers to come back again)? Via email (seems so laborious)? In your head (uncommunicative)?

Whatever, this latest batch of comments is crying for attention.

In regards to the previous post ... I totally appreciate all of the Good job!s and Way to hang in there!s -- I'll take all of the strokes I can get. Thanks! But. The run outlined below wasn't a particularly bad run, or one I need validation for ... that, or some slight variation thereof, is what EVERY run is like for me! The half hour prep time, the endless gear misplacement and fiddling, the two miles of dwadling, the constant peeing, even the falling over into the dust (usually singing something like Domo Arigato Mr Roboto) ... this shit happens every day, folks.

OMG, I may be even odder than I think I am.

EMZ: Still, 3 minutes?!? Way to make me feel good!

LISA: I'm totally looking forward to meeting you, too. We'll be visions in pink!

EWA: Welcome #38! We'll see how envious you are when I'm shoveling out from under six feet of snow. Or waiting for the last of the snow to melt from the yard, in June. Or shopping at Safeway in December (a topic to be explored here at a later date). I kid, of course, Truckee's awesome. Most of the time.

SUaR: I would guess one would make Fucking Cheese by pounding the hell out of it. That's some cheese I do NOT want to taste! I once had a guy break up with me because, amongst a myriad of other failings, I swore too much. Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out, motherfucker. He also thought I was too fat (size 9), too dumb, and not funny enough. I mean, c'mon!

FUNDERSON, Funderson, Funderson: My lack of preparation is in a different league than yours? Dammit, you're my litmus test. If even YOU are concerned with my lax running, I'm officially in big trouble. And I look forward to the time we meet up for a run. I travel lots. It's only a matter of time!

IRON MIKE: I only fiddle so obsessively for the first two miles or so. After that, I run like a normal person, more or less (minus the dancing, peeing and falling. Oh jeezus). Opposite of grace? Bootchez.

And last but most certainly not least, PAM: the leaver of this comment:

"So do you ALWAYS take your shoes off to take a shit, or was today special?"

I read this while filling my gas tank at some anonymous station near Sacramento and proceeded to wander around for the next five minutes laughing and chortling like a madwoman. Oh. My. God!!!

I seriously did not even think about what I wrote, or how it might read, until I read this comment. Too, too funny! To explain: ours is a strictly No Shoes household. I know, pretty out of character for me, but I pick my battles. On this day I chose not to flaunt defiance, thus Ready, remove shoes, pad over to the bathroom, shit, pad back, shoes on, etc. THEN do something like walk on the not-yet-dry deck.

Now I'm gonna be thinkin' that any day I shit with my shoes on is NOT a "special" day ....

To all of you: thanks for reading, and especially for commenting. I enjoy you ALL so much!

How to Run Like Me!

Wake up, late.  Anything earlier than 9 is very optimistic.  Tell your wonderful boyfriend all the things you plan on doing today, including cleaning both bathrooms and moving rocks around in the yard (a frequent activity around here).  How you plan on being a rockstar girlfriend.  Make a list of the many things you'll get completed today.  Think about running.  Wander over to the computer and spend the next hours adrift on websites and blogs.  Feel it's suddenly vital to post something to your neglected blog, after over a month of inactivity.  Fret.  Post.  Immediately and repeatedly, check for comments . . . Emz for the win, in 3 minutes!

Think about running some more.

Boil some pasta, fold clothes and spend more time doing nothing on the computer.  Read.  Realize it's 2:30.  Nothing's done, no cleaning, no rock moving, you could always start on that . . .

OK, gonna go running now.

Spend no less than 20 minutes wandering around getting items.  Mostly looking for running socks.  Get your running clothes all together, start getting dressed, realize you already have running socks on.  Sigh. Fiddle with everything for another 20 minutes.  Water, belt, music.  Headphones.  String headphones around your clothes in a method only you understand.  Realize you've done it for the wrong hydration system.  Re-string headphones.  Put on belt.  Realize you're driving to your running destination, belt must come off.  Undo headphones.  Water, belt, music, put on shoes.  Take off shoes.  Take a crap.  Shoes back on.  Put belt and headphone assembly on without realizing it.  Walk on newly stained (and wet) deck.  Curse.  Retrace steps, crawl through the woods (avoiding deck) to the car.  Undo headphones and belt.  Drive a mile to the trailhead.  One mile.

Sit in car and continue to get ready.  Take single key off of key ring, put on belt, string headphones.  Sip of water, inhaler puff, get out of car.  Realize headphones are caught up in seatbelt, re-string.  Curse.  Begin to doubt ability to function as human being.  Lock car, double tie shoes, press "play" and hear Play That Funky Music, run 100 yards.  Stop and remember to start the Garmin.  Run another 100 yards.  Stop and fiddle with waist belt, phone.  Run 300 yards.  Stop and pee.  Walk a few steps, then continue running.  Run 500 yards!  Trip and fall, tucking and rolling in the dust.  Giggle.  Sit in the middle of the trail for a few minutes, then get up and run some more.  Hack and cough and feel short of breath.  Stop and restart the Garmin again (stopped after the fall -- you wouldn't want to mess up your speedy times now, would you?).  Run another 500 yards, stop.  Pee.  Blow your nose.  Run a little more (oooh, quarter mile?).  Take some walking steps, because you deserve it.  Pee again.  Run some more, stop and look at the pretty view, have a sip of water. Try to tell yourself other runners do this, too.  Fail to be convincing.  Continue to fiddle and dwaddle for two miles.  Pee again.  Finally start to "feel" the run and get on with it (knowing that "getting on with it" doesn't mean you'll actually run any faster, just means that you cut down on the dwadling.  Somewhat.)  Sing along, loudly! (and wildly off-key), to your 70s soundtrack, sometimes throwing in dance steps and jazz hands.  Hope no one sees you.  Leap! off the trail in a flurry of clutzyness when a mt biker comes up behind you, startling you out of your Cher chorus.  Trip again, pee again.  Think about turning around at least 3 times.  Run, run run.

Reach the car, bleep! off with Gary, hack up a lunger.  Think about stretching, but don't.  Take 3 minutes to find car key (which is in the same pocket it always is).  Get in car.  Drop and pick up key.  Close car door on dangling earphones.  Sigh.

Think about how none of your plans for the day happened, and you've just left more chores to cram into the next day.

Try to convince yourself that you are, indeed, a rockstar.  For running.

For running four whole miles!

Fail.

BuhBye September

Wow!  No posts AT ALL a whole month!

How much do I suck?  Lemme count the ways . . .

1.  Yeah, no posts for a month.
2.  Haven't even been *reading* many bogs!
3.  I've been sick (but that only counts for like 4 days, so . . . )
4.  Running . . . hah!  I think I've gotta be the most untrained runner out there, maybe with Funderson.
5.  August: 47% scheduled miles run.
6.  September:  30%.  30!!!
7.  Today I'm blogging instead of running.  Lame, for one who blogs as little as I do.
8.  I've got all kinds of new running gear, like a Nathan pack and cool Moeben armwarmers, new trail shoes and 2 pairs of road shoes.  Would be easy to justify if I, you know, ran.
9.  Oh, yeah, that ultra at the end of the month.  My first.  50k!  That's like 31 miles, yo!
10.  Guess how long my longest run has been lately?  15.7 miles.

How much do I NOT suck?

1.  Yesterday I ran 15.7 miles, mostly on new local trails, and totally loved it!  I felt like I coulda run a lot further, but it got dark AND I was super hungry.  I called for a ride home (rightfully, this should go in the "I Suck" column for coming in early, but I really loved the run, so suck it).
2.  I'm running the Nike Women's Half in two weeks.  This is awesome because:
     a. I *think* I'm trained enough to run for 13 miles.
     b.  I'm meeting and running this race with Lisa.  This a big step for socially-awkward me.  I'm wearing a tutu and looking forward to hooting and hollering and having a great time at this, my first big-venue race. (I may be awkward, but no one calls me shy!)
3.  I'm running the Boggs Mt 50k at the end of this month.  This is awesome because:
     a.  OMG, me! running an Ultra!  Even when if I crash and burn, just the fact that I'm contemplating such a thing gives me a mental boost (AND physical terror, but hey).
     b.  I do believe that RBR might be joining me.  Another social leap!  This is especially thrilling because I think, in each other, she and I might find the perfect (read: slower than imaginable, and potty-mouthed) running buddy.
4.  In the past few months, I have totally embraced my slowness.  I may have paid lip service to this concept before (and secretly thought sub 10:00 miles were the shit), but lately . . . well.  Fuck it.  I run 14:00 trail miles, a little faster on the roads, and that's what I do.  I won't ever run faster, I won't try to run faster,  don't want to run faster, this is who I am and if you want to run with me that's the speed we're running because that's the speed I run.  I am a slow runner.  YAY!  I'm a runner!
5.  I think I have the capacity to run really far, especially if I, you know, run.
6.  I have 37 followers (and 53 subscribers) on this blog!
7.  I am teaching myself how to cook Indian food.  Yesterday I made my own fucking cheese!
8.  I plan on running today after finishing this post.

Thanks for hanging in there, readers.  I hope to start posting with a bit more frequency, but don't hold yer breath!

Dear Blog

I've thought of you often in these past few weeks, really I have.  Oh, the posts I wrote in my head!  The pictures I took!  The times I mentioned Oh! I'll do a blog post tonight!  You haven't been far from my mind . . . but you have been far from actuality.  I've neglected you, tossed you aside in the pile marked "Later," trading you in for summer fun.  Oh, you poor, poor blog.

I will make it up to you.  I will post, and post some more . . . maybe even two days in a row.  OK, maybe not, but I do promise to get better.  To try harder.  To remember all of my wonderful readers, who are no doubt shaking their heads, wondering Where O where has Bootchez gone*?  (prolly not, y'all know I'm a lazy girl, but still . . . )  I'm off now to go for a run with a 73 year old woman (god, I hope I can keep up) and think I can get a post up about the last few weeks' adventures by tomorrow or thursday at the latest.

Next year, I will just state right out that I'm taking the damn summer off from blogging.  That way I won't feel guilty.



OK, I don't feel guilty, just lame.




*One place I HAVE gone to is Words with Friends.  Takers?  Look me up, my user name is Bootchez . . .

Run Summary

No blog posting, but lots of running!  Which, I guess, is as it should be.  I managed 91% of my 110-mile goal for July, which I am happy with as I strive to hit 80% (I came across this figure because, historically, that is what I average.  Therefore, I inflate my training schedule by about 20%, so 80% is good.  This kind of math trickery works on my mushy old brain, such that I keep my car clock 5 minutes slow, I believe it, and thus am always on time.  Simple minds.)  In actuality, I ran 99.56 miles in July -- I would have run the extra .44 if I had known.  Quite a few of those miles were really pretty awesome, like the one I did from Watson Lake.
There, through the trees, in the distance, the lake.  Tom and I camped there for the night, had a great night's sleep in the truck (natch), then he dropped me off and drove home.  I, being dropped off, then ran home, maybe 6 juicy downhill miles of 06 fire road, then ducking into the woods for the final 6.  My elevation loss was over 2,000 feet!  Now, you would think I would run that quite a bit faster than normal, yes?  You would be wrong, I ran it as slow as ever, plod plod plod, but it was a nice, easy jaunt and a run that I am likely to repeat.

Finally, things are starting to grow in my yard.  I believe I've posted of my adventures in gardening before, but I can't rightly find anything.  Here's a brief summary: buy a house at 6200 feet, look at lots of dirt and rocks and a few weeds and no topsoil.  Remember that on the east coast you had a bit of a green thumb.  Think, How hard can it be? and buy hundreds of dollars worth of plants.  Plant them.  Watch them grow for a little while.  Imagine how lovely everything will be in a year or two.  Try not to cry when one morning (truly, the night before Lots of Plants) you walk out of the house and all your plants (except for catmint, salvia and daisys) have been mowed down, scattered and eaten by rabbits, squirrels and other murderous rodents, those that haven't already been eaten by the deer, of course.  Next year, throw an ugly net over the few plants (catmint, salvia and daisies) that survived both the voracious appetites and the brutal winter.  Think you can try again.  Throw around topsoil and try to enrich what soil there is.  Plant more plants.  Watch them die.  Throw seeds around and see what grows (sweet william! and . . . nothing else!)  When at first you don't succeed, redefine success.  Plant lots of sweet william, catmint, salvia and daisies.  Stop caring, start "naturalizing".  When spring rolls around, cut down the obnoxious weeds, let the cool ones grow, spend a total of $100 and 10 hours on gardening duties, and pretty much give up.  The result:




Flowers! Growing! In my yard!  Not much, but an improvement over what was, quite literally, cruddy parched dirt and lots of rocks.

Then it's off to Marin, and Stephanie and I find a new place to run . . . nice trails around Tennessee Valley that run to the ocean:




Not a very pretty day, but the area is awesome and there's a whole network of trails to be explored.  We decide to do just that on Monday.

Yeah, not so much.  We were both exhausted from our 12 hour shifts, and very nearly chucked the whole run in favor of breakfast.  This was our last run together, though, and we decided we'd muscle on through.  This marks the beginning of the string of bad runs I've had, of which this one was undoubtedly the worst.  We were both tired, cold and heavy-legged.  What we had planned to be a 10 mile, 1100' elevation gain, romp through unexplored trails awesome run turned into a 2.8 mile, flat, gloomy sufferfest.  Fittingly, .5 miles from the parking lot my bowels turn to jelly.  Presented with this alone, I merely run into the bushes and leave a little road gift, but what do you do when you're with a new friend (one that's NOT Beth)? You hold onto it, smile, and pretend nothing's wrong, "but I think I need to walk for a little bit!"  What happens when you hold it? Oh, no, it doesn't go away, that would be too easy.  It gets worse, you try focused breathing, slamming your butt checks together, look helpless.  Admit defeat to your new friend (who is sympathetic, bless her heart -- she's a newbie runner, so she knows).  Hope you can make it to the parking lot.  Make it to the parking lot! Yay!  Offload! Watch your friend drive off!  Spend another 20 minutes (20 minutes!) hovering around the outhouse, offloading 3 more times.

Shitting in the damn woods is so much easier!

Anyhow, Stephanie and I worked one more shift together, and now she's gone, off to another assignment in LA.  I'm super bummed about this, because I am a terrible friend-maker and very much a loner and am sad to see my rare, new friend leave.  She gave me a bunch of hand-me-down clothes before she left, though, and that's like a shopping spree for me!  Ah, well, yeah I'm bummed.  I was also bummed that our last run was a crappy one, in so many ways.

More crappy runs followed, though in the descriptive, not literal, sense.  My bowels have gotten back in line!  The other day I went for an exploratory jaunt with Tom, wherein I was supposed to run some long milage thing, but ended up being overwhelmed (by either tiredness -- I had just got off my week o' work -- or by the altitude (<24 hours of acclimation), or just by laziness, I dunno) and only managed 2.8 miles (that number again!) before I gave up and walked the rest of the way with Tom.  Blech!  This is no way to become an ultrarunner!

Maybe I can become an ultrarunner by running a section of the Western States Trail!  Yesterday, Tom and I headed out for more exploration (we've been doing LOTS of this this summer!) and I've got a 12 miler planned, Tom's got his mt bike.  We find ourselves in the backcountry around Forest Hill Divide, south of Soda Springs, 4 wheelin' down dirt roads, climbing up up up! And, lo! there's the Western States trail, maybe 6-8 miles out of Squaw Valley.  We park the truck and we're off!  Tom heads one way on his bike, and I head the other.  My section is right on the Forest Hill Divide, meaning a lovely mountain ridge at 7500'.  The views? Phenomenal, look left and wow! look right and wow!, and I am again amazed at what a beautiful place I live in.






So the views are awesome, the trail?  Sucks.  Bigtime.  Short, punishing ascents and short, punishing downhills.  Sounds maybe nice, but totally not.  Huff and puff up, then struggle (don't run!) down.  Repeat.  Again.  Omigod!  I have a set time to return to the truck, and when I hit the turn-around time, I'm only 4 miles in.  Running amazingly slowly, even for me.  Even slower on the way back.  I am sure that both ways of this out-and-back run were uphill.

So I just checked the Gary data and, fuck me! no wonder why I had such a hard time!  This was a 2,000 foot elevation gain/loss over 8 miles (yes, once again, I did not run my goal milage.  Too fucking bad). 8 rocky, slippery, soul-sucking miles.  Check it:

OK, so now I feel better.  Tom, having run into difficulties on his route, met me on mine just after I turned around.  I'm glad he did, because I was quite late for our meeting back at the truck, and am glad he was spared the worry.  What he was not spared is the difficulty of the route, which he says was hard even on a mt bike.  The 8 miles took me 2:30 to run, which is saying something right there, even for slow ol' me.  Brutal.  I have the utmost respect for the Western States runners.  100 miles of this is impossible.  

Here's my Runner's Glamor Shot.  Me, running the Western States.  Feast your eyes:

I don't think this'll be happening again any time soon!
What is happening soon?  I'm finishing up this post, then off for another float down the Truckee River.  Another run today, god knows how long (I've stopped forecasting, hell if I can run 3 miles I'll be happy).  The, on Sunday, I've committed to a 21 miler on the Tahoe Rim Trail.  Here's 5 fun facts:
1. I've hiked exactly this section before (Tahoe Meadows to Brockaway Summit).  It took 2 days.2. I'm going with two guys.  They are 8 minute milers. Oh lordy.3. Starts at 6 am!  I barely function before 9.4. The last time I ran 20+ miles was in May.  May!5.  This run tops out at 10,500 feet.
I hope I make it!