I haven't been just sitting around icing my shoulder while I wait for surgery, I've been running and riding the trails every chance I get! I can run 5 miles or so before my arm starts throbbing and it seems I can mountain bike all day without a problem... as long as I don't fall doing either one of those things.
The local Ossipee River Trails are seeing a lot of use these days! They are perfect for 5-6 mile runs. I've been running in the evenings, while Kevin walks our puppy, Scout on the trails. I catch up to them at the end and finish my work out with "puppy sprints." Growing pups aren't supposed to do long slow distance, it's not good for their bones and joints, but sprints are just what they need and crave. Scout and I run wildly down the trail for 20 or 50 or 100 yards, over and over again. He decides when to start running and doesn't give me much warning, then he decides when to stop and gives me even less warning. When the session is over, after 3 or 10 or 25 sprints (pups are unpredictable) he slows to walk and blocks the trail in front of me to signal that we're done.
The Ossipee River Trails were hit hard by Tropical Storm Irene. Kevin spent a lot of time and has River Run completely cleared. He has also removed all the big stuff with his chain saw from all the other trails. I'll get out there on my day off this week and start throwing branches and debris out of the trail. It seems funny to me, but "Horsey Sue" has been riding her horse up and down River Run over and over again since it is the only trail that is completely cleared. Wouldn't you think she'd leave the horse at home one day and get out on the trails and do a little work so she could get back onto the other trails quicker?
This past weekend Kevin and I rode both days on the Kingdom Trails in East Burke, Vermont. It was a little challenging getting there with parts 302 and parts of the Kanc closed, but we managed. The trails had seen a lot of flooding, but only a few were still closed and the ones that were open were in great shape. They really have a good thing going there. If you've never been, picture a quaint little town that revolves around mountain biking. On the weekends, the parking lots are full, people are riding mountain bikes up and down the streets, sprawled in the grass beside their bikes, changing clothes, loading and unloading bikes from car carriers... I was over whelmed when I first went there. But, once you get onto the beautiful flowing trails, you don't see many riders at all. With over a hundred miles of trails, there is plenty of elbow room. This past weekend, we talked about doing some of the lift assisted downhill riding at Burke Mountain, but ended up staying on the cross country trails. We just have so much fun on them!
Toward the end of our ride Sunday, the sky started getting dark and we could hear thunder in the distance. We started seeing lightening zig-zagging down onto the nearby mountains and the wind started picking up. We rode out of the woods and started heading up Darling Hill Road toward out vehicle...and so did everyone else. It was strange to see all these mountain bikers emerging from the woods and fields and dirt roads and head up the hill. I looked ahead and saw a line of bikes as far as the eye could see, and more and more were joining the line as we went. Kevin and i started picking up the pace a little because the storm was coming. We were merciless as we passed rider after rider. Kevin took off on me half way there. With an approaching storm, it's every man for himself! We made it back and got the bikes loaded just as the torrential down pour started. I jumped into the truck, but then decided I might as well wash off some of the mud. I got out and stood in the icy rain. It was coming down sideways because if the wind and it scrubbed me clean in no time. I didn't last long out there, but it felt great!
I have two more weeks before I have my surgery and will be out of commission for a while. I'll get all the biking and running in that I can in that time!
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
Pain in the A#!
Arm, that is.
I've put in a few less-than-fascinating long runs since my last post, but they weren't the sort of runs that make for great blogging. My left upper chest hurt when I ran, which made for some unpleasant running. I'm a nurse, I couldn't help thinking, "left chest? It must be my heart!" I remember feeling that I couldn't get a good deep breath while doing the steeper climbs at MMD. Afterwards I noticed I felt "winded" and sore just running uphill easy or mountain biking up small hills. I went so far as to get my stethoscope out of my bag on one occasion, and attempt to listen to my own heart and lungs after a run. I felt kind of silly when I realized the guy in the next car was watching me. But everything sounded fine, so I correctly attributed it to my injuries from my mountain bike accident on July 10th. My left arm had also remained painful since then and was keeping me awake at night and making me cry out when I moved it in certain ways. Throughout the day and night I had been frequently shouting out, "OW-OW-OW." People were beginning to think I had Torrett's Syndrome.
After my thumb and forefinger became painful and tingling on the effected side during a long run, and stayed that way, I finally decided I needed to go see a doctor. The sports medicine people still had my record on file after almost ten years of no injuries worthy of medical attention (other than the broken neck...and they don't know about that one.) Dr. Bean looked through the record...stress fractures, plantar facciitis, muscle sprains and tears, herniated discs, tendinitis, etc...and mused that I must have given up running about ten years ago. I countered, "no, I'm just not that hard on myself anymore." Overuse injuries haven't been an issue for me in years, it's these darned traumatic injuries from biking. Sometimes I think my bike doesn't like me, what with the way it keeps throwing me off. Kevin's bike doesn't do that to him.
The diagnosis is a rotator cuff tear as seen by X-ray. I'll have an MRI on Monday to determine how extensive it is. I thought for sure the chest and the arm were two different injuries, but it seems the pain all comes from the same spot. Surgery will likely be necessary, but I will try to put it off until I can get some good Fall mountain biking in and attempt to run the Virgel Crest 100 at the end of September. I mentioned to Kevin that whether I had to have surgery before Virgel Crest or not, maybe I could run it with my arm in a sling. He said, "what if you trip?" Oh. I hadn't thought of that. I'd have to figure something out, maybe ace bandage my upper arm to my chest leaving the forearm free? I'll be sure to take photos if it comes to that.
Well, I've had a really great Summer and done a lot of fun stuff. Kevin and I both love the Fall, and no matter what I'm sure we'll have a great one. This weekend we are going back to the scene of the accident, The Kingdom Trails in East Burke, Vermont! I'll be careful. I promise!
I've put in a few less-than-fascinating long runs since my last post, but they weren't the sort of runs that make for great blogging. My left upper chest hurt when I ran, which made for some unpleasant running. I'm a nurse, I couldn't help thinking, "left chest? It must be my heart!" I remember feeling that I couldn't get a good deep breath while doing the steeper climbs at MMD. Afterwards I noticed I felt "winded" and sore just running uphill easy or mountain biking up small hills. I went so far as to get my stethoscope out of my bag on one occasion, and attempt to listen to my own heart and lungs after a run. I felt kind of silly when I realized the guy in the next car was watching me. But everything sounded fine, so I correctly attributed it to my injuries from my mountain bike accident on July 10th. My left arm had also remained painful since then and was keeping me awake at night and making me cry out when I moved it in certain ways. Throughout the day and night I had been frequently shouting out, "OW-OW-OW." People were beginning to think I had Torrett's Syndrome.
After my thumb and forefinger became painful and tingling on the effected side during a long run, and stayed that way, I finally decided I needed to go see a doctor. The sports medicine people still had my record on file after almost ten years of no injuries worthy of medical attention (other than the broken neck...and they don't know about that one.) Dr. Bean looked through the record...stress fractures, plantar facciitis, muscle sprains and tears, herniated discs, tendinitis, etc...and mused that I must have given up running about ten years ago. I countered, "no, I'm just not that hard on myself anymore." Overuse injuries haven't been an issue for me in years, it's these darned traumatic injuries from biking. Sometimes I think my bike doesn't like me, what with the way it keeps throwing me off. Kevin's bike doesn't do that to him.
The diagnosis is a rotator cuff tear as seen by X-ray. I'll have an MRI on Monday to determine how extensive it is. I thought for sure the chest and the arm were two different injuries, but it seems the pain all comes from the same spot. Surgery will likely be necessary, but I will try to put it off until I can get some good Fall mountain biking in and attempt to run the Virgel Crest 100 at the end of September. I mentioned to Kevin that whether I had to have surgery before Virgel Crest or not, maybe I could run it with my arm in a sling. He said, "what if you trip?" Oh. I hadn't thought of that. I'd have to figure something out, maybe ace bandage my upper arm to my chest leaving the forearm free? I'll be sure to take photos if it comes to that.
Well, I've had a really great Summer and done a lot of fun stuff. Kevin and I both love the Fall, and no matter what I'm sure we'll have a great one. This weekend we are going back to the scene of the accident, The Kingdom Trails in East Burke, Vermont! I'll be careful. I promise!
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Bradbury Mountain Biking
Kevin and I had a wonderful mountain bike ride at Bradbury State Park yesterday. We started our ride around eleven o'clock, which is perfect for riding there during the weekend. The trail runners are all done and the sun has dried out the worse of the wet spots by then. There are always lots of mountain bikers in the parking lot, but once we get out on the single track, we don't see many. Most of the time we feel like we have the whole place to ourselves!
My left arm is still giving me problems from my crash on Kitchel 3 weeks ago. There is some sort of nerve involvement, I have pain and weakness in the bicep with numbness and pain going all the way down to my thumb and first finger. It seems to be getting better slowly on it's own. This made it a little more difficult for me to get my front wheel up and over things on the bike, but I managed!
We weren't all that blown away by the Bradbury trails the first time we rode there, they were wet and slippery and we didn't know the best directions to ride in or how to smoothly connect trails to make a nice long ride. But we absolutely love riding there now that we know our way around. There are a few tricky places that make me concentrate a little, ascending to bat cave, getting over the stone walls on Island Trail, navigating narrow curvy bridges, and powering up a few rooty rocky ascents. But it is all ridable and fun. I really enjoy trying things that are just a little too difficult for me to ride comfortably. Maybe that's why I keep getting hurt!
We hoped to ride at the Moat Single Track today, but it looks like it's going to be too wet out. We'll probably end up out on the local trails for some work on Kevin's latest project... Bootlegger Island Trail.
My left arm is still giving me problems from my crash on Kitchel 3 weeks ago. There is some sort of nerve involvement, I have pain and weakness in the bicep with numbness and pain going all the way down to my thumb and first finger. It seems to be getting better slowly on it's own. This made it a little more difficult for me to get my front wheel up and over things on the bike, but I managed!
We weren't all that blown away by the Bradbury trails the first time we rode there, they were wet and slippery and we didn't know the best directions to ride in or how to smoothly connect trails to make a nice long ride. But we absolutely love riding there now that we know our way around. There are a few tricky places that make me concentrate a little, ascending to bat cave, getting over the stone walls on Island Trail, navigating narrow curvy bridges, and powering up a few rooty rocky ascents. But it is all ridable and fun. I really enjoy trying things that are just a little too difficult for me to ride comfortably. Maybe that's why I keep getting hurt!
We hoped to ride at the Moat Single Track today, but it looks like it's going to be too wet out. We'll probably end up out on the local trails for some work on Kevin's latest project... Bootlegger Island Trail.
Monday, August 1, 2011
MMD Adventure 2011
Friday evening Kevin and I met Bob N., Bob D., and Rich at Bob N's camp in Jackson for a delicious lasagna dinner and a brief nap before heading over to Barne's Field for the midnight start of the 2011 edition of the More and More Difficult Fun Run through the mountains of New Hampshire. The temperature for the start was comfortable with just a light drizzle. High sustained winds were forecast for the higher elevations starting in the morning, but it looked like we had smooth sailing ahead for the first nighttime portion of our journey. I figured I would just take it one section at a time and deal with what Mother Nature threw my way the best I could.
I ran and fast hiked through the night over the Imp Face, Middle Carter, South Carter, Mt Hight, Carter Dome, and down into Carter Notch in dense fog over extremely slippery rocks and roots. There was a couple running together that I would catch up to now and then, but mostly I was alone. I could only see a foot or two ahead of me through the fog and that was only if I held my headlight in my hand down as low as I could reach. It was sprinkling lightly at times, but it didn't matter because the fog alone was thick enough to soak me through anyway. Luckily the temperature was very mild. I was completely comfortable and content and moving well. I was very happy to be so alone and feel so at peace running through the night time fog. I felt like I was in a little envelope. It was completely still and quiet, except for the sound of my feet on the ground... and the occasional thump when I slipped and hit the ground hard.
I climbed steeply up to Wildcat Ridge and traveled the slippery trail over Wildcat A, B, C, and D as the sun came up. This stretch is always longer than I think it will be. I was happy to reach the ski trails and start down. At the bottom I met up with Patty and Sara and together, we ran to the event's only aid station. I gave Kevin a kiss, had a piece of ham and cheese and a piece of French Toast, refilled my Camelback and started up the Crew Cut Trail with the two women. Unfortunately, we missed the first turn and ended up doing a few extra miles here. With that little off course adventure and an official re-route this year to avoid the slippery Huntington's Ravine, both women came up with just under forty miles on their Garmens by the time all was said and done. So that's what I ended up running this year...a forty mile 50K. These things happen.
The climb up Tuckerman's was annoying as usual, with all the touristy hikers climbing up from the Visitor Center in their inappropriate footwear and chatty demeanors. I can't help it, I'm a bit of a trail snob. Anyway, it was an uneventful climb until we started up the Lion Head and hit the heavy fog again and the first of the strong winds. I've read enough accounts of Himalayan expeditions to know that wind can blow a person off a mountain. OK, maybe it's not so likely in the White Mountains, but I stayed low and hung on! It was brutal. I was still more or less with the other two women and we all reached the summit building together. They said they were going in to sit down and regroup. I stopped just inside the door and told them I was going to refill my water and continue alone. The last thing I wanted to do was sit down in a heated comfortable building. I would never be able to get myself back out into the icy cold Gale. I later learned that all the runners who had arrived before us were still hunkered down in the warm building. Some of them had been there for hours, hemming and hawing about continuing!
Sara and Patty stood here trying to tell me I couldn't or shouldn't go on alone, I wasn't thinking clearly, it wasn't safe, ... when suddenly my good friend Craig came out of nowhere, gave me a big hug, and said, "ready to go?" Craig, with his long white beard, pony tail, bruised and battered legs, and lean mean build is a man who knows the mountains, and it shows. Patty and Sara seemed to feel better about me moving on. I gave them a cheerful "See you down the trail," and headed out the door with Craig. He paused and said "hold on a minute. All the guys in front of you are still here worrying about the weather. I'm going back to tell them you're continuing." Crag had hiked up to participate in the Northern Presidential portion of the run, as his knees won't allow him to do the entire thing anymore. He had found all the front runners hunkered down and had been working on them for a while, but no one was budging. Well, as soon as they heard this little 48 year old woman was going to continue, three of them immediately got up and resumed their journey.
The wind was so strong that it seemed to be trying to rip my contact lenses out of my eyes. I had to cling to rocks in the strongest gusts, just to stay on my feet. We could only see from one cairn to the next through the fog. But through all this Craig and I bantered back and forth and forged ahead. Slowly and steadily we fought the wind over Mt Clay, Mt Jefferson, and Mt Adams. Mt Adams was the worse. The wind was scary strong at the summit. We didn't even pause at the top. I hunkered as low as I could, hugging the rocks, and practically crawled over the top.
Just over the top we came upon a young man with a red beard sitting serenely on a straw mat on the side of the mountain. He had a book beside him and a joint in his hand. He looked at Craig, with his long white beard billowing in the wind, and realized that his Guru had arrived. "I have a question for you," he began. Craig politely stopped and turned his attention to Red Beard. "I've been reading and thinking and trying to figure something out," he said, choosing his words carefully. The wind roared and the fog swirled around us. Red Beard continued,"If the Galaxy is spinning in an ever widening vortex of matter, does it get thinner and thinner towards the outer reaches? And does the size of the stars effect the velocity in which they move?...That is the question." Craig answered him in a philosophical voice, "And that shall remain the question until you discover the answer." Red Beard nodded his head and said, "Ahhhh." As if that was the exact answer he was hoping for. Craig and I looked at each other, shrugged, and moved on.
At Madison Hut, I sat down for the first time in 15 hours. Craig timed us for 10 minutes of blissful sitting and eating. All too soon he gave the two minute warning and it was time to pull ourselves together and head back out into the wind. Up and over Mount Madison we went.
Then it was time for the crazy rock scrambling down Daniel Webster Scout Trail. In case you have never been on this trail, let me describe it for you. Picture sharp edged rock upon sharp edged rock, ranging in size from that of a microwave to that of a refrigerator. All these are perched precariously on an extremely steep slope. To descend this trail, one must carefully hop from rock to rock, avoiding the loose ones and avoiding the cracks between the rocks. I actually enjoyed this part last year. This year my body was stiff and sore from too many slips and falls and stumbles. It was slow and painful work.
I was traveling about ten or fifteen feet behind Craig, looking down at the rocks ahead of me and picking my route, when I heard a strange sound come from Craig. It was kind of a soft, "Oh". I looked up in time to see him launch head first down the mountain. I froze in my tracks and watched helplessly. Craig tumbled head over heels, slid almost to a stop, launched off a big rock, tumbled violently head over heels again, slid quickly a little way further down the slope, almost came to a stop again, bounced off another rock violently, did a third somersault, and landed sideways across the slope with his back against a rock about 30 yards below me.
I yelled, "Don't move! Don't move!" as I did a crazy semi-controlled careen down the slope. I grabbed one of Craig's trekking poles on the way down, thinking I might need it for a splint. When I stopped in front of him, he held up one finger and calmly said, "I'm going to pass out." His eyes rolled up in his head and he twitched for about 5 seconds, long enough for me to think, "head injury! How long will it take rescuers to get here? How will they ever get him off this rocky slope?" I yelled his name and Craig said, without opening his eyes, "I hear a voice." Then he opened his eyes and looked me in the face and said, "Hey it's Laurel!" as if he hadn't seen me in a year.
It took a while before Craig could get up. He had bumps and bruises and lacerations, maybe a few broken fingers, probably a concussion, but nothing all that serious. It was miraculous he wasn't hurt worse! Together, we hiked very slowly down the trail. Craig walked in front and I followed in his footsteps. When I finally got a cell signal, I called and talked to Kevin at camp so everyone would know we were going to take a long time getting there, but we were OK. Once in a while Craig would put his arms out and sway a little and I'd reach forward to grab his pack. Little by little, slowly and carefully, we descended this way. After what seemed like an eternity, we heard people coming up behind us on the trail. This made us both happy. I think we needed a little moral support, we were pretty shook up. It was Patty and Sara. I asked them to hike with us for a bit, explaining about Craig's fall. It felt reassuring to have other people with us, although I'm not sure how that would have helped if Craig collapsed.
Craig seemed better and better as we walked, so I told the women to go on ahead and finish. So they did. When we got close to the trail head I called camp and asked for a vehicle to come pick Craig up. He had said he only thought he had enough left to get out of the woods. There were another two miles of dirt road back to the campground. Kevin was waiting in his truck when Craig and I emerged from the woods. Believe me, I was ready to crawl into the truck with Kevin and Craig and call it a day. But Craig wanted me to run it in for an official finish, so I did.
This makes four MMD finishes out of five attempts. It was a difficult one for me, but I'll be back next year for the tenth running of MMD. Right now I'm going to relax on the front porch with a nice glass of wine and rest my weary bones! Next up, Maine Huts 50 Miler.
I ran and fast hiked through the night over the Imp Face, Middle Carter, South Carter, Mt Hight, Carter Dome, and down into Carter Notch in dense fog over extremely slippery rocks and roots. There was a couple running together that I would catch up to now and then, but mostly I was alone. I could only see a foot or two ahead of me through the fog and that was only if I held my headlight in my hand down as low as I could reach. It was sprinkling lightly at times, but it didn't matter because the fog alone was thick enough to soak me through anyway. Luckily the temperature was very mild. I was completely comfortable and content and moving well. I was very happy to be so alone and feel so at peace running through the night time fog. I felt like I was in a little envelope. It was completely still and quiet, except for the sound of my feet on the ground... and the occasional thump when I slipped and hit the ground hard.
I climbed steeply up to Wildcat Ridge and traveled the slippery trail over Wildcat A, B, C, and D as the sun came up. This stretch is always longer than I think it will be. I was happy to reach the ski trails and start down. At the bottom I met up with Patty and Sara and together, we ran to the event's only aid station. I gave Kevin a kiss, had a piece of ham and cheese and a piece of French Toast, refilled my Camelback and started up the Crew Cut Trail with the two women. Unfortunately, we missed the first turn and ended up doing a few extra miles here. With that little off course adventure and an official re-route this year to avoid the slippery Huntington's Ravine, both women came up with just under forty miles on their Garmens by the time all was said and done. So that's what I ended up running this year...a forty mile 50K. These things happen.
The climb up Tuckerman's was annoying as usual, with all the touristy hikers climbing up from the Visitor Center in their inappropriate footwear and chatty demeanors. I can't help it, I'm a bit of a trail snob. Anyway, it was an uneventful climb until we started up the Lion Head and hit the heavy fog again and the first of the strong winds. I've read enough accounts of Himalayan expeditions to know that wind can blow a person off a mountain. OK, maybe it's not so likely in the White Mountains, but I stayed low and hung on! It was brutal. I was still more or less with the other two women and we all reached the summit building together. They said they were going in to sit down and regroup. I stopped just inside the door and told them I was going to refill my water and continue alone. The last thing I wanted to do was sit down in a heated comfortable building. I would never be able to get myself back out into the icy cold Gale. I later learned that all the runners who had arrived before us were still hunkered down in the warm building. Some of them had been there for hours, hemming and hawing about continuing!
Sara and Patty stood here trying to tell me I couldn't or shouldn't go on alone, I wasn't thinking clearly, it wasn't safe, ... when suddenly my good friend Craig came out of nowhere, gave me a big hug, and said, "ready to go?" Craig, with his long white beard, pony tail, bruised and battered legs, and lean mean build is a man who knows the mountains, and it shows. Patty and Sara seemed to feel better about me moving on. I gave them a cheerful "See you down the trail," and headed out the door with Craig. He paused and said "hold on a minute. All the guys in front of you are still here worrying about the weather. I'm going back to tell them you're continuing." Crag had hiked up to participate in the Northern Presidential portion of the run, as his knees won't allow him to do the entire thing anymore. He had found all the front runners hunkered down and had been working on them for a while, but no one was budging. Well, as soon as they heard this little 48 year old woman was going to continue, three of them immediately got up and resumed their journey.
The wind was so strong that it seemed to be trying to rip my contact lenses out of my eyes. I had to cling to rocks in the strongest gusts, just to stay on my feet. We could only see from one cairn to the next through the fog. But through all this Craig and I bantered back and forth and forged ahead. Slowly and steadily we fought the wind over Mt Clay, Mt Jefferson, and Mt Adams. Mt Adams was the worse. The wind was scary strong at the summit. We didn't even pause at the top. I hunkered as low as I could, hugging the rocks, and practically crawled over the top.
Just over the top we came upon a young man with a red beard sitting serenely on a straw mat on the side of the mountain. He had a book beside him and a joint in his hand. He looked at Craig, with his long white beard billowing in the wind, and realized that his Guru had arrived. "I have a question for you," he began. Craig politely stopped and turned his attention to Red Beard. "I've been reading and thinking and trying to figure something out," he said, choosing his words carefully. The wind roared and the fog swirled around us. Red Beard continued,"If the Galaxy is spinning in an ever widening vortex of matter, does it get thinner and thinner towards the outer reaches? And does the size of the stars effect the velocity in which they move?...That is the question." Craig answered him in a philosophical voice, "And that shall remain the question until you discover the answer." Red Beard nodded his head and said, "Ahhhh." As if that was the exact answer he was hoping for. Craig and I looked at each other, shrugged, and moved on.
At Madison Hut, I sat down for the first time in 15 hours. Craig timed us for 10 minutes of blissful sitting and eating. All too soon he gave the two minute warning and it was time to pull ourselves together and head back out into the wind. Up and over Mount Madison we went.
Then it was time for the crazy rock scrambling down Daniel Webster Scout Trail. In case you have never been on this trail, let me describe it for you. Picture sharp edged rock upon sharp edged rock, ranging in size from that of a microwave to that of a refrigerator. All these are perched precariously on an extremely steep slope. To descend this trail, one must carefully hop from rock to rock, avoiding the loose ones and avoiding the cracks between the rocks. I actually enjoyed this part last year. This year my body was stiff and sore from too many slips and falls and stumbles. It was slow and painful work.
I was traveling about ten or fifteen feet behind Craig, looking down at the rocks ahead of me and picking my route, when I heard a strange sound come from Craig. It was kind of a soft, "Oh". I looked up in time to see him launch head first down the mountain. I froze in my tracks and watched helplessly. Craig tumbled head over heels, slid almost to a stop, launched off a big rock, tumbled violently head over heels again, slid quickly a little way further down the slope, almost came to a stop again, bounced off another rock violently, did a third somersault, and landed sideways across the slope with his back against a rock about 30 yards below me.
I yelled, "Don't move! Don't move!" as I did a crazy semi-controlled careen down the slope. I grabbed one of Craig's trekking poles on the way down, thinking I might need it for a splint. When I stopped in front of him, he held up one finger and calmly said, "I'm going to pass out." His eyes rolled up in his head and he twitched for about 5 seconds, long enough for me to think, "head injury! How long will it take rescuers to get here? How will they ever get him off this rocky slope?" I yelled his name and Craig said, without opening his eyes, "I hear a voice." Then he opened his eyes and looked me in the face and said, "Hey it's Laurel!" as if he hadn't seen me in a year.
It took a while before Craig could get up. He had bumps and bruises and lacerations, maybe a few broken fingers, probably a concussion, but nothing all that serious. It was miraculous he wasn't hurt worse! Together, we hiked very slowly down the trail. Craig walked in front and I followed in his footsteps. When I finally got a cell signal, I called and talked to Kevin at camp so everyone would know we were going to take a long time getting there, but we were OK. Once in a while Craig would put his arms out and sway a little and I'd reach forward to grab his pack. Little by little, slowly and carefully, we descended this way. After what seemed like an eternity, we heard people coming up behind us on the trail. This made us both happy. I think we needed a little moral support, we were pretty shook up. It was Patty and Sara. I asked them to hike with us for a bit, explaining about Craig's fall. It felt reassuring to have other people with us, although I'm not sure how that would have helped if Craig collapsed.
Craig seemed better and better as we walked, so I told the women to go on ahead and finish. So they did. When we got close to the trail head I called camp and asked for a vehicle to come pick Craig up. He had said he only thought he had enough left to get out of the woods. There were another two miles of dirt road back to the campground. Kevin was waiting in his truck when Craig and I emerged from the woods. Believe me, I was ready to crawl into the truck with Kevin and Craig and call it a day. But Craig wanted me to run it in for an official finish, so I did.
This makes four MMD finishes out of five attempts. It was a difficult one for me, but I'll be back next year for the tenth running of MMD. Right now I'm going to relax on the front porch with a nice glass of wine and rest my weary bones! Next up, Maine Huts 50 Miler.
Friday, July 15, 2011
MMD Reconnaissance Run
After last year's struggle to stay on course through the night at MMD, I decided to go on a scouting mission in the daylight a few days ago. The night time segment of MMD is run up the Imp Trail, continuing up the North Carter Trail, and then crossing the Carters and Mt Hight by way of the Carter-Moriah Trail. Next comes the steep climb up Wildcat, by which point the darkness has usually begun to lift. I have run this section of trail in the dark for the past two years at MMD, (we had run different courses for MMD each year until a few years ago). It went fine the first time I ran this route because I was traveling with a group of runners and between us we had plenty of lights and plenty of good sense. Last year I was alone through this section and had some difficulties staying on trail, poor night vision and not such good sense I guess.
I started out my recon run feeling great, but smelling a very bad odor coming from my Camelback. I finally stopped to check and found a left over piece of Ham and cheese sandwich that had been in there for about a week, ripening in the 90 degree weather. I consider myself lucky that I wasn't jumped on by a Black Bear while carrying this bear bait. I hate throwing anything on the ground, but I tossed it off the trail figuring something would eat it pretty quickly.
Once free of that foul odor, the run improved immensely. I am always surprised how steep the climb is up the Northern arm of the Imp Trail. And it just keeps going and going! I found the spot where I first wandered off course in the dark last year. It is a stream crossing where hikers have worn paths up and down the stream looking for better crossings in high water, (note to self, go straight across when I come to this point.)
The turn off for the North Carter Trail is easy to see, even in the dark. I remembered this trail leveling off, but I remembered wrong. It continues to climb steeply upwards. It was after turning onto the Carter-Moriah Trail that the running gets easy and a lot of time can be made up. This trail is runnable in the dark for sections, but it is almost entirely runnable until Zeta Pass in the daylight, (note to self, run more/walk less of this section).
Shortly after Zeta Pass, which you can't miss, comes the left turn to climb Mt Hight, which I learned last year, you can miss, (note to self, start looking for this turn as soon as I go through Zeta Pass).
The climb up Mt Hight isn't easy, but it goes quick. At the top it is difficult to see where the trail goes, even in the daylight. People have wandered all over this ledgy peak looking for views so there are paths everywhere. The trail turns sharply to the right just after it reaches the open ledge. I wandered around in the dark up there for a long time last year, (note to self, sharp right!).
There is some good running after the scramble down Mt Hight, followed by a steep rocky descent to Carter Notch. At the pond, you can turn left and go to the hut or turn right onto 19 Mile Brook for a short distance and then left onto Wildcat Ridge Trail, (note to self, turn right then left!)
I would have liked to continue on to the ski slopes so I could chose the best route down. This varies from year to year, depending on if anything has been mowed or traveled recently. But this day I decided I would run down the 19 Mile Brook Trail so I would only have a mile or two to run on rte 16 back to my car. If I had come out at the ski area, it would be 5 or 6 miles of rte 16 running. My run down 19 Mile Brook was delightful. This is very good running, but unfortunately not part of the MMD course. It showered lightly during my run down, although the sun never stopped shining. It was just beautiful!
Chances are I won't remember any of my notes to self as I am jogging merrily through the woods in the pitch black night in a few weeks, but this recon run was still well worth it! I had a wonderfully joyous romp through the mountains and discovered that I am pretty darned fit for mountain running right now! MMD, watch out, here I come!
I started out my recon run feeling great, but smelling a very bad odor coming from my Camelback. I finally stopped to check and found a left over piece of Ham and cheese sandwich that had been in there for about a week, ripening in the 90 degree weather. I consider myself lucky that I wasn't jumped on by a Black Bear while carrying this bear bait. I hate throwing anything on the ground, but I tossed it off the trail figuring something would eat it pretty quickly.
Once free of that foul odor, the run improved immensely. I am always surprised how steep the climb is up the Northern arm of the Imp Trail. And it just keeps going and going! I found the spot where I first wandered off course in the dark last year. It is a stream crossing where hikers have worn paths up and down the stream looking for better crossings in high water, (note to self, go straight across when I come to this point.)
The turn off for the North Carter Trail is easy to see, even in the dark. I remembered this trail leveling off, but I remembered wrong. It continues to climb steeply upwards. It was after turning onto the Carter-Moriah Trail that the running gets easy and a lot of time can be made up. This trail is runnable in the dark for sections, but it is almost entirely runnable until Zeta Pass in the daylight, (note to self, run more/walk less of this section).
Shortly after Zeta Pass, which you can't miss, comes the left turn to climb Mt Hight, which I learned last year, you can miss, (note to self, start looking for this turn as soon as I go through Zeta Pass).
The climb up Mt Hight isn't easy, but it goes quick. At the top it is difficult to see where the trail goes, even in the daylight. People have wandered all over this ledgy peak looking for views so there are paths everywhere. The trail turns sharply to the right just after it reaches the open ledge. I wandered around in the dark up there for a long time last year, (note to self, sharp right!).
There is some good running after the scramble down Mt Hight, followed by a steep rocky descent to Carter Notch. At the pond, you can turn left and go to the hut or turn right onto 19 Mile Brook for a short distance and then left onto Wildcat Ridge Trail, (note to self, turn right then left!)
I would have liked to continue on to the ski slopes so I could chose the best route down. This varies from year to year, depending on if anything has been mowed or traveled recently. But this day I decided I would run down the 19 Mile Brook Trail so I would only have a mile or two to run on rte 16 back to my car. If I had come out at the ski area, it would be 5 or 6 miles of rte 16 running. My run down 19 Mile Brook was delightful. This is very good running, but unfortunately not part of the MMD course. It showered lightly during my run down, although the sun never stopped shining. It was just beautiful!
Chances are I won't remember any of my notes to self as I am jogging merrily through the woods in the pitch black night in a few weeks, but this recon run was still well worth it! I had a wonderfully joyous romp through the mountains and discovered that I am pretty darned fit for mountain running right now! MMD, watch out, here I come!
Monday, July 11, 2011
Painful, Yet Fun, Summer Weekend!
Saturday Kevin and I drove over to the Kingdom Trails in East Burke, Vermont to mountain bike on their awesome trails. We have developed the habit of riding the same convoluted long loop each time we go. It works well for us. It is probably about 20 miles of hilly single track, challenging for me in a few spots, but mostly just fun! Saturday, the trails were in great condition. Many improvements have been made. Problem spots that we had noticed last time we were there had all been fixed with slight re-routes, new bridges, and ground work. They get a ton of riders there and this does cause some wear and tear on the trails. It takes work to keep them in good shape for fun riding! As Kevin noted, "it's nice to see our trail fees be put to good use."
After about 3 and a half hours of steady riding we were both starting to feel it in our legs a little, but we were getting to the end of our loop so this was OK. We end our loop with a wonderful downhill roller coaster ride down Kitchel, then have the long climb up Herb's back to where we park the truck. Kitchel is a machine made trail built for fast fun downhill riding. It has big swooping jumps at the top and tight banked curves at the bottom. Each jump and each curve causes the bike to accelerate even more, if I ride it right. I love this trail and usually surprise myself with how much speed I build and how much air I get on some of the jumps. Once over the initial approach, the trail becomes smooth dirt, with no obstacles to worry about. I started down first with Kevin giving me some room before following.
I flew over the first few jumps, feeling brave and confident and riding fast! This is the kind of stuff that makes me yell out little "whoop" noises here and there, whether I want to or not. I think it was on the third or fourth big jump that I messed up. I really felt like I was in complete control, but I wasn't ready for the unexpected. I landed the jump and as soon as both wheels were on the ground, I noticed a single, loose, cannon ball sized rock laying smack in the middle of the trail. Someone must have veered off course a little and kicked it onto the trail with their bike tire. I think I got my front wheel around it, but my back wheel went right up onto it. The rock rolled out, sending my bike off into the bushes to the right of the trail. I continued straight on down, landing on my left side in the middle of the trail. I knew Kevin was right behind me and there were another six riders right behind him. I couldn't move my left arm at all, but believe me, I crawled off that trail in a fraction of a second.
Kevin stopped, of course, and everyone else who rode by slowed down and asked if I was OK. The last rider through happened to be with the Trail Patrol. He stopped and waited to see if I was going to be OK. It took a few minutes (I thought my arm was broken at first,) but finally I announced, "I can ride out." Trail Patrol man was happy to hear this, I think. I may have fractured a rib or two and I have bruising and swelling and soreness in the shoulder and elbow, but considering how fast i was going and how hard I hit, it really isn't bad!
Sunday we went over to Bradbury and I ran (slowly and painfully) while Kevin mountain biked with me. It was nice to give Kevin a chance to ride the few difficult trails that I wouldn't want to ride if I was riding with him. I was pretty impressed watching him ride down the Boundary Trail. Two hikers stopped to express their disbelief that someone would actually ride a bike down that rough stuff. It looked like Kevin enjoyed himself! When we were almost done, I paused to get a good breath (my chest wasn't allowing me to breath very well.) I put my hand on my hips and drew a big painful breath in. Suddenly something shifted on the left side of my chest, I coughed up a huge amount of sputum, and my chest pain and breathing problems were cured!
We have been looking for a touring Kayak for me. I have a small stubby river kayak that tours over flat water like I'm paddling an inner tube. This is not compatible with Kevin's sleek fast touring kayak. So we went over to LLBeans and I painfully, but excitedly, climbed in and out of kayaks on the showroom floor. I picked out a beauty! I couldn't wait to get it in the water!!!
My left arm wasn't working too well, but we paddled around Stanley Pond at a leisurely pace with lots of rest breaks. I love my "Sweet B", named because of the neat little "B" someone scratched into the side of it before deciding to return it to LLBean (I presume). I can't wait until my arm is healed and I can do some serious paddlin' !!!
Oh, and I'll take this opportunity to show you how good our garden is growing...
I love the summer!
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Running and Riding the Trails
Summer is in full swing and I've been out running the trails, mountain biking all our favorite New England Trails, and working in the garden and yard. I haven't spent much time on the computer and it shows in the frequency of my Blog posts. I'll try to catch up a little today.
My new job, covering the town of Gorham, has been going great. I've been able to manage my day so I can fit a good run in each afternoon after work. I have been exploring trails! I love exploring trails! I have put a lot of miles in on the trails near Sebago Lake in Standish and Windham. There is one main corridor trail, "Sebago to the Sea", which is OK, but there are many side trails which are wonderful. Some are "multi use" single track, which seem to be primarily used by equestrians. These are fantastic. There are also miles and miles and miles of snowmobile trails and old tote roads. These exploration runs are fun, and I usually end up putting in more miles than planned because I have to find my way back to the car when I'm ready to quit for the day. One memorable run on these trails forced me to cut across a huge field with hay up to my chest. I found 12 or 13 ticks on me at the end of that run. Yuck,
I have also run on the USM/Gorham Trail system. The official trails are good, but I discovered some rogue mountain bike trails that were much more fun. These are not currently being maintained and are getting a little overgrown. I have run all the snowmobile trails in the area, too. I am happy to announce that it is possible to run off road in the Gorham area!
I am excited about the Virgil Crest 100 in September, but haven't felt inspired to run any races leading up to that. I still enjoy low key events so I will run MMD, as usual. I thought about the 100 Mile Wilderness Run, until I started following the online conversations. Way too much machismo and goal setting for me for a wilderness run. I can just picture all us crazed runners dashing through the pristine trails, pushing the weary AT through-hikers out of the way crying, "we're in a race, clear the trail!" I'll do it alone some time instead.
Still Jack strongly suggests that I run something besides MMD and Virgil Crest. I've been training like crazy and am as fit as ever. Shouldn't I use it?! I decided on the Maine Huts 50K. Only 32 runners are allowed so the field should spread out enough to make me feel like I'm on my own. Perfect!
The more I read Blogs and Facebook, the more I realize I am done with the race scene. Don't get me wrong, I was as competitive and gung-ho as anyone up until 6 or 8 years ago. I have pictures of me at 95 pounds running with my tongue hanging out and my eyes rolled up in my head on the verge of collapse, all for the sake of being able to say "I won." Now it just seems kind of silly (sorry). That said, I will always run lots of trail miles. I will probably run a hundred miler or two every year. Hundreds don't feel like races to me once I get a few miles out. It's just me covering a great distance as fast and effectively as I can. Adventure runs (I don't mean eco-challenges, triathlons, Duathlons...I mean just going out into the woods and mountains alone or with a few others and covering some serious distance on foot) still appeal to me greatly!
Mountain biking? I'm still loving it! Absolutely loving it!!! I don't want to race, or even ride fast. I just want to ride well. But as i ride better, I find I am riding faster without even trying to speed up. I love developing my skills and seeing the improvement. Getting over a big rock that has always stopped me, getting to the top of a steep loose rocky climb that has always made me get off the bike, riding over a narrow bridge that I have always been too scared to try, hopping a big slippery log that has always sent me flying...those things give me the same thrill that winning a race used to. I guess I've gotten a lot simpler with age. It doesn't take much to make me happy these days!
Plus mountain biking is something I do with Kevin. I can't tell you how much fun we have on the trails together! We turn into a couple of kids while we are out there. I have to wonder what the folks in the fire department think when they look out and see two middle aged people on mountain bikes jumping the pile of dirt in front, or the people fishing at the river think when they see a grinning 50-ish woman riding over a ramp or jumping a log, or the school kids think when they see folks their grandparents' ages hopping and dropping off the curbs and riding the "skinny" in the playground. Hopefully, they think, "wow, you're never too old to get out and play."
Oh don't worry, I'm putting in almost 70 running miles a week, even with the mountain biking. I'll be ready for Virgil Crest!
My new job, covering the town of Gorham, has been going great. I've been able to manage my day so I can fit a good run in each afternoon after work. I have been exploring trails! I love exploring trails! I have put a lot of miles in on the trails near Sebago Lake in Standish and Windham. There is one main corridor trail, "Sebago to the Sea", which is OK, but there are many side trails which are wonderful. Some are "multi use" single track, which seem to be primarily used by equestrians. These are fantastic. There are also miles and miles and miles of snowmobile trails and old tote roads. These exploration runs are fun, and I usually end up putting in more miles than planned because I have to find my way back to the car when I'm ready to quit for the day. One memorable run on these trails forced me to cut across a huge field with hay up to my chest. I found 12 or 13 ticks on me at the end of that run. Yuck,
I have also run on the USM/Gorham Trail system. The official trails are good, but I discovered some rogue mountain bike trails that were much more fun. These are not currently being maintained and are getting a little overgrown. I have run all the snowmobile trails in the area, too. I am happy to announce that it is possible to run off road in the Gorham area!
I am excited about the Virgil Crest 100 in September, but haven't felt inspired to run any races leading up to that. I still enjoy low key events so I will run MMD, as usual. I thought about the 100 Mile Wilderness Run, until I started following the online conversations. Way too much machismo and goal setting for me for a wilderness run. I can just picture all us crazed runners dashing through the pristine trails, pushing the weary AT through-hikers out of the way crying, "we're in a race, clear the trail!" I'll do it alone some time instead.
Still Jack strongly suggests that I run something besides MMD and Virgil Crest. I've been training like crazy and am as fit as ever. Shouldn't I use it?! I decided on the Maine Huts 50K. Only 32 runners are allowed so the field should spread out enough to make me feel like I'm on my own. Perfect!
The more I read Blogs and Facebook, the more I realize I am done with the race scene. Don't get me wrong, I was as competitive and gung-ho as anyone up until 6 or 8 years ago. I have pictures of me at 95 pounds running with my tongue hanging out and my eyes rolled up in my head on the verge of collapse, all for the sake of being able to say "I won." Now it just seems kind of silly (sorry). That said, I will always run lots of trail miles. I will probably run a hundred miler or two every year. Hundreds don't feel like races to me once I get a few miles out. It's just me covering a great distance as fast and effectively as I can. Adventure runs (I don't mean eco-challenges, triathlons, Duathlons...I mean just going out into the woods and mountains alone or with a few others and covering some serious distance on foot) still appeal to me greatly!
Mountain biking? I'm still loving it! Absolutely loving it!!! I don't want to race, or even ride fast. I just want to ride well. But as i ride better, I find I am riding faster without even trying to speed up. I love developing my skills and seeing the improvement. Getting over a big rock that has always stopped me, getting to the top of a steep loose rocky climb that has always made me get off the bike, riding over a narrow bridge that I have always been too scared to try, hopping a big slippery log that has always sent me flying...those things give me the same thrill that winning a race used to. I guess I've gotten a lot simpler with age. It doesn't take much to make me happy these days!
Plus mountain biking is something I do with Kevin. I can't tell you how much fun we have on the trails together! We turn into a couple of kids while we are out there. I have to wonder what the folks in the fire department think when they look out and see two middle aged people on mountain bikes jumping the pile of dirt in front, or the people fishing at the river think when they see a grinning 50-ish woman riding over a ramp or jumping a log, or the school kids think when they see folks their grandparents' ages hopping and dropping off the curbs and riding the "skinny" in the playground. Hopefully, they think, "wow, you're never too old to get out and play."
Oh don't worry, I'm putting in almost 70 running miles a week, even with the mountain biking. I'll be ready for Virgil Crest!
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