Race Report: A Temporary Absence of Irreverence

Aldous Huxley once wrote that, “The harder we try with the conscious will to do something, the less we shall succeed.  Proficiency and results come only to those who have learned the paradoxical art of doing and not doing, or combining relaxation with activity.”  I, for one, am terrible at this, because for the most part, I think that most activities do not operate on non-linear laws of diminishing returns based on a horrible misinterpretation of a Chinese interjection at a very young age.  

Serendipitously, this year's Bighorn was just the punch to the throat I needed to rediscover the joie de vivre I've been lacking as of late.  


since i last wrote a race report ten months ago, i've

• changed gigs at work to something more manic which takes me into the field every month.  so i get to sit in a car for at least 8h on company time, at least once a month, singing along to show tunes or listening to all the audiobooks.  it's been oddly therapeutic but i still drive like i stole it.  
• continued following my bliss, which is apparently a committed relationship with someone that masquerades itself as a series of escalating dares
• (but only because she calls me out on my bullshit and bruises my ego so as to dare me to be a better person)
• started baking fiendishly to up my aid station game and because i enjoy antagonizing her kids' dentist
• related to the above, i bought a legit house at the end of april with a legit kitchen to enable that
• (to those who have seen my apartment-sized dishwasher: fuck you, i enjoy handwashing dishes)
• related to the above, i started bike commuting 10mi to/from work while also running at lunch, which now involves a 100m+ climb at the end of every day because my thunder thighs are apparently underutilized

i intended to prep for bighorn with a two week IHT campaign and a solid 24h sesh at prairie mountain during april but got forced to abandon the latter due to a snow squall; in any case it was still a solid 14h day with 13+ h of moving time cramming just shy of 6000m of D+.  i wasn't quite feeling satisfied or easy with that since i usually do a 100km race around a month prior to a 100miler.

coupled with some uncertainty at work [again] and accepting the magnitude of the sunk costs related to a canceled Hardrock this year (the biggest of which was the potential for bighorn to suddenly turn into my season's goal race four days prior to me toeing the line), and my anxiety was very crippling in the back half of may.  like, not as bad as it was during the summer of 2016, but bad to the point I was effectively a happiness vampire around my friends.  and in recognizing that, i pissed away a couple G's the week before Bighorn with a therapist to get my shit together via some mostly-non-insurance-covered CBT.  long story short, i have a deeply seated inferiority complex from my childhood/cultural upbringing that's been in the driver's seat for way too long (quelle fucking surprise), and I finally did something about it after hurting and alienating one too many people.  and yes, it was bad enough that i was willing to voluntarily lose a part of my identity less than ten days before a race.  

but i digress.

The Bighorn Trail 100 Mile Endurance Run (of the larger Bighorn Mountain Wild and Scenic Trail Run) is an out and back at ~10000' on rugged mountain trails and roads in the Bighorn National forest of Wyoming.  With 20500' of gain, you have a generous 34 hours to complete the course, which is less than 3mph.  I had originally signed up for this race because I hadn't raced in Wyoming before, and to requalify for Western States and Hardrock, but with Hardrock getting canceled days prior to the start, my goals were redesignated as follows--

1. 28h, which is on par with Tahoe last year
2. 29:59:59 because that's more realistic in my fragile state of mind
3. Finish with a shit eating grin.  One of the dumbest things I have been guilty of is not being able to appreciate the majesty of the places I suffer in and be grateful that I have the opportunity to run where I can.  (Seriously, ask anyone who's run with me in the mountains--I'm not even conscious when it happens.  And I am capable of losing my shit, such as any karstic formation in SE Asia, or R2R2r, but for some reason I just don't do mountains.)  I'm sure being awestruck with great wonder and amazement will help take the pain away.  

thankfully, to help with that last little bit, the race announced the monday prior to the race that there was significant amounts of snow still left on the course in the middle 50mi and that the start would be moved an hour early for some extra cursing/drunken shuffling time.  if I was to be smart about this, I would need to slow down and go midpack so other racers would pack the trail down for me--but not to the point where I get cold from too low of a heart rate.  this also meant that the middle 36mi of the route would be limited in aid and i needed to go hard on the ziploc bags/fluid capacity.  and if i was really smart about it, i'd just focus on my C goal because 

• with hardrock getting canceled I technically have nothing to do after bighorn except be in good enough shape to do my burro race at the end of July.  that can be managed with more IHT and the occasional hill or two in my training
• finishing bighorn is a WSER qualifier, to which i will have a ~40% of getting picked next year based on 2019 lottery statistics
• as much as i enjoyed it, i have no intention of returning to chamonix
• with this much time between now and 2020 races, i could realistically focus on other life goals like qualifying for boston (which i thought would fuck me up too much for next year) or doing other dumb shit like timed event racing
• this course is traditionally slow

Driving down to Sheridan on Wednesday just in case I forgot a whole bunch of shit, I found myself flirting with anxiety again when I realized I didn't bring spare electrolyte pills for my drop bag, or candied ginger (seriously Albertson's--$10 for <3oz!??!?!?!), or was I able to find the kickass aid station swamp cooler I could only find stateside for a semi-reasonable price at the local Home Depot.  Needless to say, I ended up telling my anxious self something that would be used over and over again this Friday:

did i mention how awesome my shrink is?

of course, none of these problems would compare to my friend joanna's this weekend, who managed to catch a deer with her van outside of Great Falls early thursday (i.e. packet pickup day).  Not optimal, but getting her to the start line was a welcome distraction from my own first world problems, so most of the day immediately prior to the race was spent dealing with that.  it was a team effort with the race management and my friend Jamie, but amazingly we managed to accommodate this spot of misfortune.  (this isn't my story to tell but i'm sure she'll write about it for the amount of misadventure she started with, and the no fucks given to that adversity would make it epic.  here's her blog.)  winter gear was also made mandatory by SAR between Sally's (my drop bag location) and Jaws (the turnaround point) but luckily i had brought down everything i needed with me already.  

not part of the mandatory gear

the earlier start time meant that the Tongue River canyon would only have been cooking for only four hours instead of the usual five, but i knew that if i charged hard through the pack of 300+, up the canyon road, i would pretty much die before the first climb.  after greeting my friends Larry from central PA and other Larry from Lethbridge, joanna and i started together closer to the back of the pack, and amazingly she kept my usual startline traffic weaving to a minimum.  we did end up taking a few names before the start of the singletrack conga line at the Tongue River trailhead, but this involved stalking our prey over minutes at a time first and without any anxiety about who was coming behind us to do the same on us.  

not the conga line

the conga line across the sheep creek

Joanna and I blew through Lower Sheep AS at mi3.5 and started on a long-ass exposed climb through an amazing wildflower field which gave us more room to pass.  I knew she had run this race three times already so my plan was to stay with her as much as possible and downshift if she did too.  I went by her pace and pretty much strolled up 3600' making conversation (it was too damn loud with the spring river flows in the canyon) with other folks while enjoying the prairie views slowly being swallowed up by the mountains.  A moderate breeze kept things from getting too hellish.  

taking photos is how joanna tells me to pick up the pace.  (thanks joanna!)

up to Upper Sheep Creek

We didn't spend too much time at the next aid station, Upper Sheep Creek ridge at mi8.5--it sits on the other side of the climb, naturally at the bottom of a steep hill i would have to contend with on the way home.  I grabbed some pickle juice and salty foods to complement my sweet-biased hydration pack in my soup bowl--but i hilariously took a bite of a ham and cheese sandwich that had frozen ham on it.  i took it as a sign that maybe 8.5mi was a little too soon to be eating so much food so i tossed it out.  joanna, a swiss dude named Beat, a Brit and I all left in a similar vicinity to each other and we soon closed ranks, which was hilariously important because the runners in front of us kept missing flags/liked running on fire road a little more than single track.  it was starting to boil so i proactively wet my trucker hat where possible but i wasn't having any dehydration problems just yet; that being said Joanna was starting to pull away on the inclines.  i had told her prior to the start that as much as i liked sharing some miles with her, i knew we both had our own races to run and that we would inevitability split up at some point, so i didn't quite mind at all.  

just before dry fork

that point would be at dry fork, 13.4mi in--Matt was there to see to her while she hit the shitter and I made quick work of the fountain pop machine (yup), more pickle juice, and an unfrozen sandwich prior to sending it down the dry fork drainage out of the aid station while hilariously eating out of my soup bowl.  i also left Beat who had to manage digestion of the dry fork food, and in doing so apparently i missed the sight of a one-kid moose family not giving a fuck that everyone but me saw.  

dammit leo, be cool.  

Six miles of 2-track up and down (but net downhill) across meadows followed as we ran parallel to a massive storm cell.  Joanna passed me shortly before Kern's Cow Camp at mi19.5, and I let her go so I could be distracted by the bacon and fried potatoes there.  I kept her in sight for some of the next 7mi but lost her when a drizzle got too intense for me so i stopped to whip my anorak out....only for the rain to completely stop after ten minutes or so.  the net gain between Cow Camp and the next aid station at Bear Camp would be minimal but it was still a momentum killer.  knowing there was no way/need for me to catch up, i started jumping into water crossings to keep my cramps stable--and this section had two pipes of potable water coming out.  the higher pressure one was 3mi in and it felt good on my quads.  

i picked up some beef jerky at bear camp, before starting the descent to my drop bag at sally's footbridge 3.5mi later.  i left with a runner from abbotsford but he soon eased up likely because it would be a 2210' drop to sally's.  the wings 8 SG's i was wearing was starting to feel cramped (i trained with my 3-year old pair but the left upper suffered a catastrophic breach literally the saturday before the race, so i was effectively wearing new shoes but still the same shoe model to start the first 30mi) so i made an effort to my next shoes a little faster.  the views took the edge off my ears popping repeatedly as we descended on one side of the valley, parallel to where we were headed to next.  the rock formations were majestic and it was hard to remain focused on the other rocks below my feet.  

bombing down to sally's

it took roughly 10 minutes for me at Sally's flipping shoes to my microspiked Icebug DTS2's (the shoes I had been running with all winter), then gaiters, grabbing my winter/night gear, and dealing with some ginger, broth and a quesadilla--but somehow in my haste i forgot to grab pickle juice there.  my legs weren't an issue yet but i had been proactive about keeping the acid away, and it would be 18mi until the next time i could take a shot.  this 18mi is pretty much all uphill but unsustained uphill--there was douche grade here and there but i hiked most of this part, trying to keep my mile times to <20min to stay above the overall course cutoff pace.  (i was more than 4h back of cutoff at Sally's; plus after leaving Sally's I found I was ahead of a bunch of people who passed me after Cow Camp, so I definitely needed more sam jackson shouting in my head.)

Abbotsford and I traded places a couple times but lost him a few miles out from Spring Marsh 10mi later--the shade next to the river valley was refreshing and he had made the most of that one since i couldn't get my spiked shoes to cooperate in the rocky meadows.  the temperature soon got a little less comfortable and i found myself wearing arm warmers before I hit Spring Marsh, but they had some broth which I quickly took to go.  it was just 3.5mi to Elk Camp but the douche grade made the mud difficult to lengthen your strides.  at times you could see footprints through the grass on the side but it was hilarious because soon you would be looking for puddles to run through so that the mud wouldn't stick to your soles.  It was on this section where I first encountered an inbound runner, but seeing a double rainbow a few hundred yards outside of Elk Camp and then the curious pack animals who run Elk Camp took my mind off of that.  

I tried to make quick work of Elk Camp again--grabbing salty food and broth before stumbling out in minutes.  I had gotten there without needing to turn on my headlamp.....whatever that meant, but my quads were starting to feel like they were on fire despite the plummeting temperatures.  i made it a few miles before turning my headlamp on, and another few more against a heavy flow of oncoming runners before my hands cried uncle and i had to put on my toque, anorak and heavy [non-waterproof] winter gloves.  the snow started a few yards from elk camp (thankfully, i was getting worried i brought microspikes for nothing) and got progressively worse in the face of two-way traffic--there were sections that was completely hardpacked, sections where it was hardpacked a foot wide and a steep drop elsewhere, and stuff in between.  and if you tried to go around the snow, you'd probably end up in some shoesucking mud.  i was routinely punching my foot inches below where i thought it would land, and i knew this would wreak havoc later in the day with all the hyperextension.  alas it would be a slow shuffle before I ran into a spry Joanna going the other way prior to Devils Canyon Road, and then another mile down the road as the night sky exploded with lightning in the distance.  

a fine drizzle had developed by the time i slipped into Jaws, to the sight of 1000-yard stares and sleepy runners all gathered around propane heaters warming up.  besides a quick and uneventful medical interview to check coherency (which i passed since i was so bored with the upclimb) i had no reason to stay as i had no drop bag there, but stayed a while longer to ensure i could get all the noodle soup/quesadilla in me before leaving, which was a good call because suddenly the sky opened up and a heavy rain started going seconds before me leaving.  that was my cue to leave to make the most of some wet quads and i left in short order back the way i came.  

amazingly it had been more than 12h since the start and i was still feeling wide awake.  i had three caffeine pills with me that i was timing for when my heart rate would reach comatose levels while negotiating the heavily trafficked mud, and that came about two miles from the other side of Devils Canyon road.  i was soaking wet, but the rain starting easing off and i knew that the faster i descended, the warmer it would get.  a second wind ensued.  

Elk Camp was much more subdued once I got there but probably because there was another Jaws-like triage station huddled around the fire.  I was comfortable enough to take some noodle soup to go along with a faceful of chips before working my way down to Spring Marsh.  the rain had stopped now, and my gloves and toque were off.  it was tempting to take my anorak off as well but i knew that things could be different down in the canyon past Spring Marsh, so i kept that one on to at least keep myself sweating.  

I passed DFL shortly before Spring Marsh but stumbled into the AS as the only customer.  what followed after was an oddly therapeutic meditation as i stumbled down the canyon with failing knees, no headlights in sight, singing show tunes to myself and trying hard to only think about the half-size-bigger hoka speedgoats awaiting me back at Sally's, and not about my gaiters collecting mud.  I made it there as dawn was starting to break at the end of the valley but still not bright enough to stuff my headlamp.  

After dropping my morning deuce and night gear, i collected an egg mcmuffin, broth, pickle juice, my new shoes, and ginger, I left gingerly up the wall to Bear camp.  the new dawn felt refreshing but regrettably my shit hiking skills rendered this meaningless.  runners who had passed me well before Jaws managed to pass me again (yes you read that right) but after only covering 66mi in 19h i started caring less and less about execution and more about getting one foot in front of the other.  i probably had my headlamp on for only another half hour before the Jaws side of the canyon started illuminating, and the hike up wasn't too slippery with rocks left and right to help me up, but I started noticing i couldn't quite lift my knees up anymore from all the hyperextending from the previous night, more so on my right.  i also noticed that if i rotated my right heel too much, my glute would tighten up for, which got mildly annoying.  despite the fact that would jolt me awake every time, i took another caffeine pill but with my uphill speed it only made my eyelids heavy.  the mud was still treacherous and i was wishing for the sun to rise higher above the NW facing slope and start baking the moisture out of the clay, but this would not happen for another three hours and i kept grinding it out on the treadmill.  

with the early morning cold and my lack of speed, all i had at bear camp was jerky and broth but i knew it was 7ish mi to bacon and fried potatoes at cow camp.  i was fighting to stay under 20min miles with the mud and legs but the uphill-biased undulation made it extremely slow.  a few more folks from ahead of me at Jaws found me and I tried to hang on with them but I kept slipping back every so often to jump into a drainage.  I hilariously met a first time 100miler from Helena that also subscribed to this activity, and we kept racing to the deepest parts of puddles at blistering 17min/mi paces.  it was on this section the sun finally broke above the slope but there was still so much moisture in the ground that it would probably be a half day before it would dry out.  

getting to cow camp was supposed to be a relief as i remembered it as a 2-track coming down, but it was still a river of polished mud with nothing solid to break the slippery factor.  i took some bacon, potatoes and noodle soup to go with Helena but the mud was thick on these next 6mi from the rain and traffic ahead of me.  the ruts on the road were inconsistent, and riding the center between the tire tracks was tantamount with playing with fire as the sidewalls were deceivingly slippery and occasionally banked.  Helena dropped back as the 50mi leaders started passing me but they gave me a lot of encouragement for wearing a 100mi bib.  they were super accommodating of the lines i picked too, electing to jump off the beaten track to make room for my shuffling ass.  

i knew there was a dumb climb up to dry fork, but it was especially depressing because you could see the tent from two miles and two other hills away.  i took comfort in seeing the 18mi start across the horizon and knowing i didn't have to get trampled but it was still a long shit grind up to the station.  it was still roughly 24h after i had first gone through there.  i got faster as i got closer to the spectator area, and in the sea of cheering i managed to hear Matt.

He said Joanna left 10 minutes ahead of me with trench foot, but i elected to hit the shitter here and Matt got me out in 5 minutes with broth and half a double cheeseburger.  in classic fashion I forgot to apply sunscreen.    I'd try to get the last 20mi done in 6ish hours (20min mi with some speed for the downhills), but mentally I was so committed to my C goal that if I caught Joanna I'd probably join her pain train and share some more miles together.  

A fine breeze made the dry road up from Dry Fork to Upper Sheep a little more bearable to shuffle and i had some motivation to make my way through the 18mi pack as much as possible, but this was offset by the waves of 50mi runners surging past me down what used to be runnable for me.  nevertheless i managed to take out a few hikers and elderly folks.  baby steps.  

contrary to my facial expression, everything fucking hurts

they had vodka jello shots at upper sheep so i obviously took one for the pain.  (who am i kidding, i'd need the whole bottle for that.)  i knew i wasn't moving fast enough for the cheeseburger to digest so i didn't take much before taking out a few more 18mi runners on the uphill grind to the top of the ridge.  this would be in vain when i found out i couldn't even let gravity do the work once we crested, so in a 'fuck it' moment i tucked my poles into my belt and decided to run down with just my two legs.  

ok, sam jackson.  you win.  

there were a few steep sections where i regretted that, but i was still taking names from hikers.  there was an older lady wearing bright orange from downtown Wisconsin i was trying to hang on to, and she kept a pretty decent 15-17min mi heading downhill.  Beat caught up to me on this section and I tried to hang onto him for a while instead; he said his legs weren't working either but he was definitely more mobile than me.  i was in and out of Lower Sheep in less than a minute because I definitely felt i had a huge calorie surplus.  Beat caught me, and then I caught Wisconsin, and then finally I saw Beat talking to someone wearing Joanna's orange shorts in distance.  

I offered my trekking poles to her to use as crutches but the blisters were all in unfortunate locations that made every step excruciating.  after ensuring she was ok with some company, we set out looking for a safe drainage or river eddy for her to dip her feet into, but everything we found was not snow-fed and piss-warm.  she offered multiple times for me to just go on without her but we rarely run together with my new lifestyle, so i figured i'd stick around.  

after what seemed like forever, according to my sunburned skin, we finally hit the trailhead AS, marking 5mi of road left.  there was a medic on site so joanna made the prudent move of taking some time to get stuff lanced; again she told me to go on ahead but i chose to apparently sit in the bush looking like I just decided to DNF at mi96.  as you can imagine, hilarity ensued when i had to explain to everyone passing us that I am just waiting for a friend....multiple times.  

strangely not many of these bibs were 100mi ones.  i told joanna that even if i went out alone, i probably wouldn't have run the full 5mi, so we decided to start with 30s shuffle/30s walk, hiking the uphills.  this yielded <15min/mi, and once she got more comfortable with that we were able to push closer to 12 and walk less.  we didn't get passed much here probably because we were guided by presence of a guerilla aid station closer to town with sprinklers/freezies, but there was also a long line of hikers and similarly so-fucking-done-with-this runners to chase.  

all aboard the pain train TOOT TOOT

regrettably one of joanna's blisters between her toes exploded with a mile left after the kid-manned freezie station, and we had to abandon the pain train, but i convinced her that 12-13min of pigeon footing it in Altras (lololol) wouldn't be the worst thing.  she managed to find a good stride and we picked it up as we entered town and across the river.  

You have to run around the park at the finish area to get to the finish line, and it looked like the entire town was there.  i glanced at my watch and despite her condition, joanna had dragged the pace out to 10min/mi.  we had agreed to finish together but somehow I let her beat me with less than a second of differential, coming in just over 31h12m.  

it was at this moment joanna finally learned how to stop her watch.  #touchscreens

I don't remember what the joke was

If you've been reading my adventures for quite some time now, you'll note that this experience probably sits pretty close to Northburn Station in terms of execution and back-end hunger [or lack thereof], and for the first time in a while i was below the average finish time (30:56:38).  But nevertheless, this was truly one of my most satisfying runs ever.  Bighorn is unique in that mother nature throws everything at you, then bats last, and that sort of adversity forces you to make friends with those around you because it's a lot tougher to go it alone and avoid suffering.  And lately with how alone i felt in this world, this was exactly the throat punch i needed to restart embracing the suck, being able to hurt, and to be grateful and enjoy this world in all its warts.

By the numbers:

• placement: 89/346 starters
• time: 31:12:28:31 (yes they gave me all those digits)
• DNF%: 46%
• Distance: <101mi
• D+: 20500'+
• times fallen: 0
• rear-end pyroclastic events: 0

Stray observations:

• my rental car was a white Chevy Impala, to which I promptly christened Vlad and fulfilled a long-standing life dream.  #silverlinings
• he took out two birds so I would not say he is Tame at all.  AHAHAHAHA IM SO FUNNY
• like fairplay, the dayton population explodes once this race rolls into town.  it's so nice to see the locals (kids especially) going all in with supporting this endeavor.  
• with regards to my first world problems
• i did end up grabbing the swamp cooler in Billings on my way home.  
• i still have a job.  i don't know how it'll play out but i'll keep chugging one day at a time.  
• yes, I am fully aware the gif i used is forever ruined.
• if you want to learn what color of mud is best for running through, then this race is for you.
• after cow camp, i did wonder what kind of weather it would take to shut the course down for trail damage potential.  

Shoutouts in no particular order of importance:

• the vollies.  
• the aid station loadouts in some of the more remote locations is batshit insane.  seriously, it's like they want you to put on weight during the race.
• the communication is ridiculous, which is helpful for a course so dynamic and remote.  
• my dearest lori, for putting up with my bullshit (more so as of late), for keeping me from overtraining, for relentlessly reminding me to actually enjoy this silly sport, and for your extraordinary patience as i get my shit together.  thank you for existing in my life.
• Luminous Brewhouse, for all the free pints for runners.  seriously, you know the way to my heart.  
• Joanna and Matt, for bringing Moxie over.  dog therapy is the best therapy.  especially if she's a super cool dog.  
• but seriously, thanks for the company and making this weekend easier to endure!
• and matt for getting me out of dry fork inbound in a jiffy.  
• the dayton resident who let me park overnight in their backyard while i did my thing.
• the race sponsors.  there's a ridiculous amount of SWAG

advice for potential participants, all masquerading as reasons this is a hardrock qualifier:

• it is advertised not as a race but as a trail run.  keep that in mind.  
• amount of runners I encountered with broken carbon poles because of the dumb mud: 3
• bring them, for you will need them to ski down sloppy conditions.  
• then bring a spare pair.
• apparently a horse went chest deep in a puddle while packing gear in.  
• if they mandate mandatory gear, bring it.  they don't fuck around.  
• you pretty much need gear for all four seasons anyways.  don't believe any weather forecast, just bring that shit.  
• the climb up to jaws drops in temperature pretty quickly
• the route is set up so that if your crew is trying to hit all crew access points, you can easily put in 500k through the race.  consider co-crewing at least two runners with another squad and split up the driving.  
• especially because footbridge needs a little more ground clearance/a rental car with water crossings and what not.  you also have to park a mile out and hike it in.  
• speaking of footbridge, if you're dropping there you better have enough gear to wait for a ride.  and by wait, i mean you could have probably hiked to dry fork in that time if your reason to drop was stupid.  
• the law of diminishing returns applies to the middle 50mi--it's a douche grade climb for 18mi between sally's and jaws, through a fuckton of mud and possibly snow that makes for an awesome stairmaster but terrible for going full-effort through.  on the return trip to dry fork, if you time it for later into the day the mud may be slightly drier and more cooperative than going hard through the night.  
• when this course feels slow, chances are you aren't the only one feeling that.  remain calm and trust your training.  
• my piss was clear most of the race.  and i was not the only one peeing more frequently than normal.  
• for the longest time, my watch was not registering movement shuffling up to Lower Sheep likely due to signal issues within the canyon a la R2R2R.  which may mean your watch could have a misleading odometer, which was the case for me.  all aid stations have distances listed to the next station.
• altitude is a factor if you live at sea level.
• this race is on father's day weekend.  
• i left my ice bandana at home because i thought i wouldn't need it.  i didn't and i didn't see any ice anyways.
• sunscreen.  especially on the inbound journey.  
• but don't put that shit on your face, it'll just get in your eyes
• gaitors, but not those dumb salomon velcro ones
• i wore 1.5L of fluid capacity and any extra water i had between aid stations went straight to my ass/quads.  

Up next:

• While I can recover most of my airfare/airBnB costs for Hardrock at the time of writing, I'm choosing not to and will still go down there to celebrate my fitness and my pacers/crew's fitness that week.  if no one is throwing a fatass 50k down there that week, i totally will do it myself.
• My next scheduled  race will be the same Burro race I've run down in Fairplay for the last two years, at the end of July.  I don't know that I'll have a race report for this.  
• Pending the leniency of my new boss, I will likely make a slight detour into the world of timed events and strengthen some basic biomechanics before jumping back into the world of trail running next year.  
• i have a couple sessions of CBT left and i intend to go hard.
• I dunno, work on my online recipe collection?
• as noted at the very beginning, i've bought a house that deserves power tools and i've start bike commuting.  put those together and i will likely be venturing into the world of mountain biking with an 8" chainsaw in my backpack at the break of dawn, cleaning up deadfall for the rest of my trail running friends who need to actually train for something.  send me your waypoints!

The problem is not the problem.  The problem is your attitude about the problem.

--Capt. Jack Sparrow