The supplements that make life semi- |
Sunday, May 5, 2024
Four Years Out From Cancer Treatment
Sunday, October 1, 2023
Mountain Man Olympic Race Report
I always debate doing Mountain Man because it’s HARD. This would be my thirteenth one, so I knew better. Did I really want to swim in a lake at 7,000 feet? Climb the hills on the bike and the run? All with a lack of oxygen? But it the summer had been sizzling hot and miserable and the race would be a distraction in a cool place. Plus it would be a reason to train in the ninety degrees at dawn weather, which it seemed pointless otherwise.
So I swam in bath water temperature pools and lakes, sweated on the bike and run and came home to collapse in a dehydrated state of semi-heat exhaustion. This summer exceeded itself in pure crapitude. Even normal thriving trees and Saguaros were dying in the excessive heat.
I regularly do things like this to myself. Normal people think I am nuts. You rode or ran in this heat? It was uncomfortable, but bearable up to about 93 degrees, depending on the humidity.
The hassle of driving to Flagstaff did give me pause. The day before the race, I drove up on I-17, which was more clogged than usual on a summer weekend when Phoenicians are desperately trying to escape the heat. Parts of the road were under construction, which was a perpetual endeavor. The drive took thirty minutes more than normal.
I always hate pre-race, getting hyped up and wondering what will go wrong and what essential thing will be forgotten. I didn’t sleep very well. The hotel is close to a busy street and it was noisy. I used the fan feature to drown out the noise, but didn’t get much rest.
I got up at 3:50 race morning, packed up my stuff, forgetting a pillow and drove in the dark to the lake. It was warmer than usual, in the 60's. One year the car windows were fogged up, a baffling condition to clear up. Another time it was foggy, which delayed the swim.
The swim was always tricky for me. To get out of breath and hyperventilate, was difficult to impossible to recover from. Usually, my chest gets tight and I have to go slow and rest a lot to avoid panic. This seems to go on forever, but I always finish.
We had a rolling start and I seeded in the back. It started and ended at the ramp by transition. The swim went clockwise south instead of going north. The lake looked like it had more water in it than in the past, but also more weeds and was fairly calm. I didn’t panic, but found it hard not to stop and rest often, especially in the beginning. I swam by people freaking out and had to avoid a back-stroker most of the swim. It got better the second half, but not by much. I resorted to inhaling deeper to suck in more air, but it was hard to get enough oxygen. The water temperature was stated as 68 degrees and was 70 degrees by my watch. It wasn’t as warm as in years past, though not by much. It took 50 minutes, but seemed longer. It’s always a relief to get on land.
Thursday, September 14, 2023
The Paw
She steps into my life.
A feline disruption.
Demanding affection, food and a lap.
She complains, and wants attention.
Her paws destroys furniture, claws ripping cloth;
Feet stepping on the table, the desk, fresh laundry, my lap.
She crawls into my lap and purrs.
Soft brown and beige fur; with big blue eyes a mystery of emotion.
A cat that’s both aggravating and ingratiating.
Until she isn’t.
Weak, pain-filled legs can’t jump up onto the table, the desk or my lap.
Walks along the wall, not knowing where to go. Her eyes don’t see.
She can’t find her food nor the litter box.
Leaves vomit, pee, poop on the floor.
Her spirit is gone; it’s time to go. I kiss her good-by.
Her absence leaves holes in my heart.
And an impression of her paw.
Cats are simultaneously adorable and annoying. They have big eyes and are soft, furry and cute. They sleep a lot and drape themselves over various surfaces and purr when they are happy. But it’s hard to know what they are thinking and what they want besides food and a soft lap. Their emotions are not readily discerned. A cat language translator needs to be invented. Are they bored, in pain or lonely? An owner is never sure about this mysterious creature.
My cat came into my life when my daughter, on one of her rare visits in 2016, insisted that we go to the animal pound, since I “needed” a cat. I don’t know why I agreed.My thought was to get an older cat or a cat that was not likely to be adopted. A kitten did not interest me because of the longer commitment and possible obnoxious behavior. A black cat looked promising, but it had behavioral problems. They brought out a tuxedo brown and white female siamese. She REALLY wanted to be adopted and was friendly, but she didn’t like other cats. We took her home. I kept her previous name, Mama Cat. Why she was named that is unknown, but it could have been her affectionate behavior. Most of the time she was just “cat”.
Saturday, July 1, 2023
Grand Canyon Rim to River to Rim Hike
The allure of the Grand Canyon is indescribable; a visual masterpiece that is always changing in the light. Some rock layers are millions of years old, in myriads of fantastical shapes. But hiking to the bottom is a serious undertaking in the rugged harsh climate. The price of admission to the wonderland is grueling physical stamina to climb in and out of it. Lack of preparation or training can be deadly. At the same time the vast expanse is magical. Going below the rims is an adventure, and the first step on South Kaibab trail to descend is both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.
We started down South Kaibab in the pre-dawn gloom at 4:30. I avoided looking at the dimly lit depths and shear drops offs that promised certain death if I fell, and kept my eyes down on the steep slope of the ground. The hazy sun was still under the horizon, glowing behind the rim.
So many steps. |
Sunday, May 21, 2023
Cactusman 2023 Race Report
Every race, it’s the strangling anxiety of organizing all the swim, bike, run and nutrition crap, not sleeping well, going down the site at o' dark thirty and setting up all the stuff in transition only to waste time later. Being the usual basket case beforehand. I forgot to put on my required wristband and parked my bike in the totally wrong rack. Hopefully, no one noticed. I was tired as hell from the lack of sleep.
I opted for the sprint distance of 750 meter swim, 12 mile bike and 5k run. This time of year is hot and two laps of run and bike in the olympic course would be too tedious.
It was hot standing around in the sun in a full wetsuit waiting to start the swim in Tempe Town Lake. Rumors were that the water would be colder, gauging from the 60's in the lakes, but it was above seventy degrees. Regular people are always horrified that I swim here, like it’s a cesspool of bacteria, scum and fearsome fish. I have never encountered live fish, but the birds that hang around manage to find them. Twenty-one years of swimming in this lovely lake has given me immunity from whatever is floating in it be it algae, wood bits, dead fish or even bodies.
Picture Joshua Stacy |
Miraculously, my legs actually felt decent beginning the run. Usually, the bike turns my legs leaden. The Salt River west of the dam looked like a real river, instead of creek, with all the water flowing through. Really remarkable. I ran hard, but as much as I tried, couldn’t get out of the 11 minute/mile mark. Former speed still eludes me. Total time was 36:55 for 3.29.
Same site, different race. |
Monday, April 17, 2023
Fifteen Mile Trail Run or What Was I Thinking?
I had serious doubts about doing a fifteen mile trail race. I like to push myself physically, but what is that limit anymore? It used to be easier to assume that I had the stamina and ability to do just about anything. Now, I don’t know. My energy level could range from functional to dead tired with no consistency. Would I injure myself by spacing out, resulting in a fall that would render my knee into a bloody pulp? Get exhausted and walk the whole way?
At least I knew what the course was like, having ridden it by mountain bike many times. It had some nasty rock strewn sections. Once to the seven mile point, it got easier and downhill. Still it was a long way. My goal was simply to finish in one piece.
At the start, everyone took off, leaving me mostly alone. This is a common event for me. I figured that I would catch some of them later. My arm and knee still hurt from a bad fall the week before, so I started slow
After two miles was where all the rocks started. This was a tough part and went uphill. One time I fell lightly on my hands. Most of the time my toe would hit a rock with no loss of balance. I kept up with an older man, but passed him eventually. It was slow going. I wasn’t worried about time, just completion of the distance.
The older man picked his way carefully among the rocks. Maybe this was how he avoided injury. Is frequent tripping an old person thing? At one point, I saw that he took a wrong turn and yelled at him. It was my good deed for the day. I lost him and didn’t see him after that.
Occasionally, I could look at the desert vistas instead of staring at the ground hazards. Four Peaks mountains still had snow in the crevices. The park stretched on into the horizon. Trail running is certainly more scenic that the boring streets of road racing. Saguaros beat shopping malls anytime.
My gurgling insides finally forced me to stop and find a bush. Luckily, no one was around. This is an advantage to trail running–being able to use a bush rather than carrying a load around. It was a long way to a restroom. I cursed inwardly my colon, which wouldn’t behave itself.
Running this route verses mountain biking was definitely different . The distances that would by pass quickly with a bike stretched out with running. I can coast on a mountain bike. I can climb rocks without falling. It seemed like I was going nowhere slowly and sometimes the anxiety of wondering where the hell I was and if I was lost took over. I had done this trail many times on a bike, but it was more desolate and vulnerable on foot. I overtook people sometimes and wondered why the hell would they be lagging back there with me.
I knew that the endpoint of the climbing was the shelter with the skeleton dressed in a serape, but I thought I was lost in the endless twists and turns of a trail that went nowhere. I was happy to see my boney friend.
My friend with a different costume. |
The next aid station had coke! Coke has saved me on long endurance events when my energy was flagging. I drank some and continued. My slogging pace picked up. I think that a 50k runner lapped me because he was moving much faster . I was on the downside slope, with some rough, rocky patches that were not as bad as the first stretch. I shuddered to think what negotiated that when I was tired would be like. The miles seemed longer and longer.
I passed another runner who was walking fast. Being polite or annoyed, she let me pass. I moved faster.
I crossed the park road, hoping that it wouldn’t be much longer, but it was. Would this trail ever end? Four miles to go and it was easier to run. The ground was smooth and the coke had kicked in. Where did this energy come from? Too bad it didn’t come sooner. The trail twisted and turned and I hoped to see some evidence of the parking lot, but nothing appeared. Then the restroom structure loomed in the distance. I kept running hard just to get the damn race over with. I was under my modest goal of 3:45.
Finally, the race ended at the humble finish line. Total time was 3:41. The skin of my knees and hands was still intact and I had mostly stayed upright.
This was a really low key race, so no medals, announcers or timing system, except someone writing the time on paper. This didn’t matter to me, but I wondered what was the point of running trail for fifteen miles. Running verses biking the trail was one of the draws to see the difference. I had only run a tougher half marathon trail in Page, but two miles more wasn’t that significant. Maybe it was to prove to myself that I could do a long run after a pandemic, cancer treatment and being older. I hadn’t even done a road half marathon since 2019.
We like to think that we are in control of our destiny. Doing crazy things gives me the illusion that I can defy age, expectations and physical limitations. If I can run fifteen miles, maybe that will hold off infirmity, fat and appease the joints that hate me. No one expects people my age to be doing such activity, but why should years dictate the end? I won’t live forever, or may even die next year, so why not do it now when I am able?
Or maybe it was just to feel just a bit like my old normal self again, rather than a depressed, achy, tired cancer survivor. I didn’t get my usual race high, but still could claim victory.
Saturday, July 30, 2022
Grand Canyon Rim to Rim
Going down to the bottom of the Grand Canyon had long been a goal of mine. A mixture of curiosity, the exceptional scenery and a lack of common sense enticed me to trod the rugged depths. It’s one of those trips that sounds great in theory, but the reality involves some serious craziness. The hike is a strenuous long way down and up in a day in an unforgiving climate. It would be badass to do at my age, though and it’s fun to test myself physically, otherwise known as suffering.
This goal had always been thwarted by circumstances. My ex went down with his brothers, but I had to watch our young child. The car really stunk when they got out after sweating and camping for days. Another trip, the person backed out. A prospective group never had room. A tour was expensive and camping was involved, which is a nonstarter. The logistics of going by myself was difficult and hiking alone wasn’t appealing. Then came cancer and the pandemic. My strength to hike to the river, let alone rim to rim, was doubtful due to health issues. The goal seemed out of reach. After all this disappointment, the time was finally right.
Looking down into the abyss on the south rim the evening before, the coming venture was daunting. The ancient rock faces and formations in the fading light were striking, but harsh. The vast terrain looked merciless. I had been on both rims before, and it was pretty to look at and not threatening. It’s one thing to enjoy the scenery on the surface; another to subject myself to the climate, ruggedness and perils of the interior. Be unprepared for heat, dehydration or exhaustion and the consequences were dire. I was scared, but still compelled to hike it.
The "Box" |