Were you a Nicole or a Mery?

Ted's Run for Literacy is a proud supporter of Can U. The other evening Can U's executive Director, Roger Berrington spoke passionately of the work they accomplish to promote social justice for children who may not have the opportunities others may take for granted.  Can U was one of ten NGOs shortlisted to present a three minute pitch to vie for cash prizes offered through Winnipeg Foundation.  Can U, University of Can, won "The People's Choice"along with a $5000 cash prize. The little race that could loves this little group that can!

The following is the three minute pitch delivered by Roger Berrington.

It's a good day to be alive.

Mike

CanU students, Roger Berrington (centre) 

My name is Roger Berrington. Mery and Nicole inspired me to be the founder and volunteer Executive Director of CanU. Were you a Nicole or a Mery?

Nicole was a kind and hard-working, raven-haired young woman with dreams of studying medicine and helping others. University was the norm for Nicole’s family and she excelled at her prestigious high school. In Winnipeg, 92% of the Nicoles, who have ample opportunities and resources, graduate from high school. Nicole is now realizing her potential and fulfilling her dream of becoming a doctor.

Mery was a kind and hard-working, raven-haired young girl with dreams of helping her family start a brand new life in Canada. Mery had great potential but limited resources and opportunities. The oldest of 6 children, she had lots of responsibility at home, and had to work hard to learn English and catch up in school. In our city, 47% of the Merys graduate from high school.

CanU, the University of Can, specializes in recognizing potential like this, turning obstacles into opportunities and connecting the Merys and Nicoles in mutually beneficial and transformative ways. Beginning in grade 5, CanU kids travel weekly to Nicole’s universities where they can see their own potential and share in a whole new world of possibilities.

With $10,000, CanU will build on its track record of combining social innovation with leadership development. We will launch a brand new program; a social innovation version of Dragon’s Den. With the help of mentors, CanU kids will turn our city’s obstacles into opportunities for social change and pitch their ideas to potential partners.

CanU began as a pilot program for 15 kids and now, six years later, inspires 1100 youth and university students through 70 university-student-led programs.

· Now, university labs are crowded with dreams as Medical students, like Nicole, and CanU kids discover together remedies for chronic social barriers.

· Now, the smell of confidence fills the million-dollar research kitchen as Nutrition students and CanU kids cook together and share meals and recipes for health and friendship.

· Now, the beautiful sound of justice fills the campus courtroom as Law students and CanU kids together experience fairness and equity.

· Now, Mery, who has just graduated from high school, has a dream of studying Law one day.

My name is Roger Berrington. Mery and Nicole inspired me to be the founder and volunteer Executive Director of CanU.

CanU imagine if Mery and Nicole were here today to see what they inspired?

(At this point Roger pointed to Mery and Nicole in the audience and they stood and received a thunderous applause.)

Roger Berrington, Executive Director, CanU.

Lean Horse 100 Mile Ultra Race Report, part 3 (A guest blog by Melissa Budd)

Those of you familiar with Melissa's character know she's sweet, mild mannered, and never-ever says bad words. All that is out the window in Part 3 of her Lean Horse saga where she "swears like a sailor" at the no-seeums that swarm and choke her breath and seize her mind. The cheers of "first woman" ring through the darkness and confirm that she is indeed "winning it for the women". She struggles on with a sore back and swollen feet. An ice-cold Coca-Cola and a fresh pair of Hokas revives her sagging spirit and she continues on into the darkness realizing at mile 75 she's a full two hours ahead of her time last year.  Part three takes us up to mile 80.3; the hardest is yet to come.

It's a good day to be alive,

Mike

The rain had stopped so I just carried the poncho looped on my belt.  I was feeling warm  and didn’t need it.  After running a mile or so, I decided to put the poncho down near a trail marker.  I planned to pick it up on the way back.  After all, carrying unnecessary gear just makes you more tired.   I folded it and put it next to the mile 96 marker (I wasn’t at mile 96 but the trail is longer than what we were running).  I continued on for just short of a mile.  Surprise!  It started to rain.  I thought momentarily about going back for my poncho – but I just couldn’t do it.  Doing two extra miles when the rain could possibly stop?  Nope – not this girl (good thing….because it did stop).   I continued on uphill until I reached DMTM which was mile 49.3.  At that point, you had to run .7 of a mile past and then turn.  I decided to not stop on the way out, but stop on the way back.  It was here that I also decided to plug into my headphones.  I needed a little boost (mentally) from my music.  I started to wonder about my placement.  I hadn’t seen any women for a while (not since the cow incident).

I checked my watch at the 50 mile turn-around, I had been running for just over 10 hours (averaging 5 miles an hour for 50 miles).   I thought (momentarily) how nice it would be if I could keep it up for the next 50 miles and finish in the 20 hour range (momentary thought!).  It was way too early to be thinking about my finishing time.  I wasn’t ready to pick up my head-lamp yet as it was only 4:00pm and it wouldn’t be dark until 8-9pm.  I stopped for a few minutes to regroup, get some food and talk with David.  He said he wasn’t sure, but he thought I might be the first or second women.  I saw a woman as I was leaving the DMTM, but she hadn’t done the out and back so would be at least a mile and a half behind me.  I continued on, happy to be on my way back now.

Still feeling good (except for my stupid shoulder) I ran the 6 miles back to Nahant.  The weather was warm and it looked as though there would not be the downpour I feared.  It was nice to finally see more people on the course as I made my way back.  I saw people I had run with earlier on. The wonderful thing about ultramarathons is that just about everyone would say something to you in passing, ”good job”, “looking strong”, “way to go”.  These are words I’ve heard before, but are meaningful all the same.  The strange thing about this race was I was also getting the words, “first woman!”, “there she is!” and clapping.  It was something I wasn’t all together used to.  Slowly it was sinking in that yes, I could be the first woman.  On my way before the turn around, I had counted maybe 12 people on their way back, but I hadn’t seen any women.  That doesn’t mean there wasn’t anyone (people can be missed if they are off in the bush to take care of some business), but I knew I had to ask David at the next aid station if he could find out for me. 

As I ran through the valley, I encountered more people with more encouraging words.  It felt strange to get that extra attention.  It is not that I didn’t appreciate it – it made me feel quite special – but there is always that part of me that questions my worthiness of warranting such compliments.  Why should I get extra merit just because there wasn’t another woman faster than me here today?  I certainly wasn’t going to be the fastest finisher – the lead male was at least a few hours ahead of me.   As I ran, I worked through some of what was going on in my head.  I finally concluded “Accept the compliments dummy”.  Even though I wasn’t going to be the fastest female to ever run this (far from it) – today I was winning the women’s side.  And if that fact could help me keep going at a quicker pace and finishing this race faster than last year – it was a good place to be and I should use it.  I knew that my friend Christine would be telling me that I’ve worked hard to get to this race and if I was in first place for the women, I needed to keep working to maintain that place.

I met David in Nahant (mile 56.6) and asked him if he knew what place I was in.  He said he was pretty sure I was in first and I told him I was pretty sure I was too.  I refueled and refilled my bottles.  It was getting a little cooler and I put on one of the shirts I was wearing earlier.  David had hung it out of the car window as he was driving and it was now dry (awesome thinking!).  I knew my next drop bag was in Rochford and I would have to pick up my head lamp there.  I estimated that I would get there sometime after 6pm.  I wouldn’t need it yet, but the next drop bag was at Horse Creek which was mile 75.  Last year I got to mile 75 at midnight and had a good 4 hours of dark!  David mentioned that because I had a crew (him), I could pick up my head lamp anytime, he would just have it in the car with him.  It really was so nice having a crew!  So David would get my head lamp out at Rochford and have it in the car with him until I needed it.

I was starting to feel a bit down at this point (physically).  My trap was still hurting (despite A535 reapplication at every aid station).  The trail from the DMTM to Nahant and Nahant to Rochford was a little long and the people I had been seeing were getting sparse.  Two miles before Rochford, surprise, I see David!  He was running out to meet me.  When I saw him, I thought “good!  I’ll be at an aid station right away”, but David told me in about 20-25 minutes we would be at an aid station.  I got a little upset and said, “Why did you run so far?  When I see you it is only supposed to be a few minutes to the aid station!!”  Poor David!  Here, he was trying to give me more company and in turn I got upset because I wasn’t close to an aid station!  I apologized and thanked him for coming out that far.  I did mention though, if I could, just come out a mile (just for my mental sanity).  We laughed at how funny the mind works. At Rochford (mile 62.7), we got out my headlamp and I made sure that David PROMISED me that he wouldn’t get lost and not meet me at the next aid station.  I also got out a small mag-light and put it in my running pack (just in case he did).

 

Onward to Gimlet Creek (mile 66.3).  I liked knowing that my next aid station was only 3.6 miles away.  I was still feeling the effects of my shoulder and my chest muscles were hurting as well.  I hadn’t had a coke for awhile and it was making me a little grumpy.  David (true to his word) came out of Gimlet less than a mile away.  He asked me if I could have anything in the world right now, what would it be?  I thought it was a strange question, but I responded, “I would give my left arm for a coke right now.  Why?”.  He just said, “no reason, just wondering”.   As we approached one of the many wooden bridges, what did my wondering eyes did appear?  A Coke at the foot of the bridge….in a pile of ice.  I actually had to stop and laugh!  I asked him, “How did you know?”,  he replied that he, “just knew.”  I was so happy chugging that can down.  Gold star for my crew!   

At the aid station, I put on a long sleeved top as it was getting later and a little colder.  It was close to 8:00 and getting dark.  I got my head lamp from David and continued on to Mystic (mile 70.5).  I was a little sad that I wouldn’t be able to appreciate the beauty I had seen as I came through the first time, but I knew I would still be able to listen to the creeks that ran along side the trail and the waterfalls.  The area around Mystic was a little cooler, so I kept up my pace so I wouldn’t chill.  

As I was running by the beautiful creek I had admired on the way out the most horrid thing happened.  As twilight set, out came armies of bugs!  Not large mosquitoes, but little “noseeums”.  Those pesky tiny bugs that go up your nose, in your mouth and in your ears.  They were everywhere!  I ran along waving my arms back and forth in front of my face like a madman!  I must have looked insane!  I’m don’t have a “potty mouth” but suddenly I was cursing like a sailor.  These things were relentless.  I contemplated quitting, but even if I did, and I stopped, they would swarm.  There really wasn’t any way out of this hell but through it.  Luckily the aid station was close and I saw a headlight bobbing toward me on the trail.  It was David.  Man it was so nice to have someone to rant to!  As I vehemently described to him this hell that I was experiencing, he talked me down and told me to turn off my headlamp.  The light was drawing the bugs to my face….duh….again, glad to have the sense of someone else.  After running for over 14 hours straight, sensibility leaves.  David also lifted my spirits by reminding me that once it was dark, the bugs wouldn’t be a problem. Horse Creek was the next aid station and David said I was doing great.  I was feeling good after leaving the aid station.  My back pain was letting up and it was actually a nice change to be now running in the dark.

Just outside of Horse Creek (mile 75.3) I saw a headlamp bobbing towards me.  I could see David when he was further away now because of the light.  I told him that I really missed running with him when I was going through the tunnels.  They were very creepy at night and would be a perfect spot to REALLY scare someone.  I think, had the tunnels been closer to the aid station, either David or I would have probably done that to each other.  At Horse Creek I had my drop bag.  It was around 10pm.  I was pleased with my time.  Last year at mile 75 it was midnight.  I was ahead of last year’s time by 2 hours and feeling much stronger.  I contemplated switching my Nike Pegasus shoes for Holkas.  Holkas are very spongy shoes.  I had done a training run in them during the summer.  

The good thing about having David there was that if I didn’t like how they were feeling, I could switch them at the next aid station, he would just carry them in the car.  So, upon David’s insistence, I switched up my shoes.  Wow, they made my feet feel like they were wearing pillows.  I didn’t realize how sore my feet were until I put on the Holkas.  Instant relief!  I knew, at this point, I had 25 miles to go.  Even if it took me 8 hours, I would still get my sub 24 belt buckle.  This was my “B” goal.  “A” goal was to finish the race, “B” goal was to finish before 24 hours and “C” goal was to finish faster than last year (23:49).    I was feeling great.  I was still in first place for women and all of my goals were still within reach.  I did have to remind myself that now it was going to get harder.  The longer you go, the harder it is.  Although I thought to myself, last year I actually picked up my pace in the last 16 miles.  I left the aid station feeling confident.  On to High Country and mile 80.3!

To be continued in part four.

Mooove! Lean Horse 100, 2014 Race Report, Part 2 ( a guest blog by Melissa Budd)

The Lean Horse 100 Mile Ultra-marathon is not for the faint of heart.  Part 2 of Melissa's story has us travelling over gorgeous hills and through ancient tunnels. We meet Laura and Jen, two "lovely ladies" who lightened and brightened Melissa's day.  We jostle with demented cattle beast and shoo angry dogs.  The rain may chill Melissa's core but it also strengthens her resolve. Don, you will learn, is one tough character, and he gives thanks for every step.  We hear Melissa's lone "whoo-hoo" reverb through the dark tunnel and we can smell the musty earth as she plods forward.  And David, kind soul that he is, continues to support his dear friend at every turn.  Read on.

It's a good day to be alive.

Mike

Soon the time I was waiting for happened.  We started after a countdown and ran ¾ of the way around the track and then off to the Mickelson Trail.  The rain had stopped and I settled into a pace with Brittney and a woman named Ann.  They were both wonderful to talk to and I enjoyed the first part of the trail with them.  As we comfortably ran along we accumulated a few more people.  

Conversation flowed easily and before I knew it we were at the first aid station Mountain.  Mountain was a 5 mile uphill, so that meant on the way back it would be a 5 mile downhill – great!  I briefly saw David -  he filled my water bottle and I grabbed some watermelon to eat (because it looked so good).   In and out in 2 minutes – just like a race car at a pit stop! 

The next 5 miles was downhill.  I was nervously telling people around me “on the way back this is going to be the hardest part – mile 90-95 uphill”.  I was thinking about it so much that I wasn’t enjoying the downhill.  I did meet two lovely ladies running the 50m mile though – Laura and Jen.  Both are teachers and have that sarcastic wit that I love.  They made the miles fly by.  We joked, laughed and shared.  I wished that they lived closer because I think they would make the best running buddies!  We continued another 5 miles downhill.  That is when I made the realization that miles 85-95 would be a long climb and it would be necessary to dig deep.  As we ran along, I also made the realization that I couldn’t worry about what would happen that far down the road.  It made me think of my children (oddly enough).  I thought, if I spent their whole childhood worried about how hard the teen years would be and how hard it would be when they left – I would miss out on a lot of the good things that were going on in the present.  I made a decision to not think about that 10 mile uphill until I got to it.  I needed to enjoy and immerse myself in the present and not worry about the future.  Perhaps that last 10-15 miles would be like last year – where I made up time and ran strong.  I knew it could be a possibility.  After I got over my worrying – running seemed to flow.

The next aid stations quickly went by Orville, Hill City, High Country and then Horse Creek.  Horse Creek was mile 24.8.  It was almost a quarter of the way and I was feeling good.  I was eating at most aid stations –quarter sandwiches (PB and J or Turkey) chips, fruit and Gatorade.  David met me at every aid station with a cold can of Coke (what an angel!).  Horse Creek was where I had to say “good bye” to Laura and Jen.  I gave them a hug, took their picture and wished them well.  I knew they were in a good position for their 50 mile finish.  They finished 3^rd and 4^th  overall women.   At Horse Creek I picked up my second hand held water bottle because the day was getting warmer and I was draining my one water bottle well before the next aid station.

 I also had the privilege of running with Don.  Don was amazing in the fact that he had been through some massive heart issues and he was still running ultra-marathons.  He said he was lucky his cardiologist was an ultra-marathon runner himself.  Don talked about his wife finding him looking like he was dead a few times when his medication wasn’t quite right.  He had to be very careful about dosage.  I asked him if that scared him.  He replied that it didn’t scare him.  I asked Don where he got his courage from.  He told me that going through experiences like these, made him value the quality of life.  He may be better off doing more moderate distances – but this is what he loves to do.  He also cited his faith as being a source of his courage. 

After Horse Creek I was on my own.  I saw David at every aid station –  he was wonderful at taking care of whatever I needed.  He went above and beyond.  Even though he hadn’t been training, he would drive to the aid station, park, and then run out to meet me.  It was nice because when I saw him, I knew that in the next 10 or so minutes I could refuel.  It was also wonderful to have company (as I was now running alone).   

The terrain from Horse Creek to Mystic was phenomenal.  There was a large mountain stream that winded along the trail.  I passed ponds, fields and even an old time gold panner.  At one point I watched as two horses powerfully galloped in unison on a field beside me.  I was taken by their beauty and strength.  They were truly the epitome of Lean Horse 100.  And then, just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, I got to run through two old railway tunnels.  I don’t know what the past railroad/wild west would have smelled like – but I smelled it.  I don’t think I could explain it to you if I tried.  Coal, iron, mist, granite, earth – it was an incredible smell.  Running through the tunnels I gave a little “whoo hoo” just because I love to hear an echo.    The towering granite that the workers would have had to blast through when building this railway came to mind as I ran through.  I was also treated to lovely waterfalls and their sounds.  I was happy that I chose not to listen to my music.  I was fully immersed in the environment I was in and was loving every minute.  It certainly helped that I felt so strong.  I can honestly say that I was no more fatigued that I would have been had I done a 6 mile run.  The scenery was THAT intoxicating.

After running through the beauty of Mystic, I got to Mystic Aid station (close to 30 miles).  I was feeling good and was leap-frogging several other runners (so I didn’t feel totally alone).  David told me I was doing well and was probably third or fourth woman.  Placement didn’t really matter to me at that point because I still needed to run most of the race and I was truly just enjoying my only responsibility that day of putting one foot in front of the other. 

MOOve!

Leaving Mystic, there was a short jaunt to Gimlet Creek.  The beauty of the trail hadn’t stopped and neither my enjoyment of it.  I passed through yet another old railway tunnel and an old mining camp.  Close to Gimlet Creek I came upon 4 cows blocking the trail.  They stopped me in my tracks.  There wasn’t really a way to go around them and they were just standing there like a bunch of bullies – not wanting me to pass (at least they appeared like that from my perspective).  They were eyeing me up.  I turned around to look if there was anyone behind me that could help out.  There was a woman but she looked to be between ½ and a ¼ mile behind.  I didn’t want to wait so I knew I’d have to do something.  Of course I told them to “MOOOOO-ve” .  They just stood there staring at me.  I didn’t think cows charged, but what if they did?  I inched closer and told them to “MOOOO-ve” again.  They stood there for another (endless ) minute.  Finally, without warning, two of them took off and the other ones moved off the trail.  I continued and was thankful that they weren’t “real” wildlife – apparently I’m not too comfortable with non-human animals.

David saved my butt again as I came into Gimlet Aid station.  He ran out for ½ mile and as I saw him I was close to a house along the trail with 2 large dogs.  When they heard me, they started running at me growling and barking.  Like I said, I’m not great with non-human animals (unless they are small and friendly).  David projected his voice and told them to “go away”.  They did – and I was happy.  We ran into the next aid station.    My shirt was entirely wet as the temperature had gotten a little warmer.  I was also a little salty.  I took this opportunity to put on a clean DRY shirt (which made me feel so much better).   My legs were feeling great.  Not a lot of fatigue and my mood was excellent.  

The only issue was that my left trapezoid muscle (in my back) was feeling tight and my chest muscles were feeling tender.  Why?  Apparently training without hand-held bottles was not a smart move for me.  Even though they only weigh a little – the repetitive motion of carrying them in your hands works those muscles that I hadn’t trained.  Oh well, not much I could do now.  David thought to ask the aid station workers if they had any muscle pain relief (A5-35) – surprisingly they did.  David rubbed some on the tight spot on my back.  I could feel the heat penetrate my muscle.  While it didn’t take away the pain, the muscle felt a little less tight.  Off to Rochford!

Running to Rochford, the weather took a turn and it started to rain a bit.  The scenery was still incredible.  However  I didn’t have a raincoat with me –  I knew there was one in the car.  I would get one from David in Rochford.  Mile 37.4 aid station… but where was David?  I really needed that rain jacket!!  I wasn’t sure where he was, but I knew I couldn’t wait around.  I grabbed some food and mashed it into my mouth.  Not sure why, but I took a PB and J, put some chips in the middle of it and it tasted good.  The volunteers filled my water bottles and I was ready to go.  But I really was cold at that point.  I wondered what to do.  Then I had an idea, I asked if they had a garbage bag (which they did) and I tore a hole for my head and two for my arms.  Voila!  My rain jacket!  I asked the aid station volunteers that if they saw a bald guy in an orange car – tell him I already left.  They said “Will do! “  and I was off to Nahant – 6 miles away.

The garbage bag worked well.  It trapped heat as I ran along and I was soon almost a little too warm.  No problem – it was easy to tear some vents.  Except for my shoulder – I was doing incredibly well.  This was the most pain free ultramarathon I had ever run!  The 6 miles from Rochford to Nahant was still pretty but uphill, I passed through the 4^th (and last) railway tunnel.  The trail opened up to a valley before Nahant.  Thankfully David was at Nahant when I got there.  Apparently he had gotten lost and I beat him to Rochford.  I was grateful to get my rain poncho out of the car and for some more A5-35 for my shoulder.  It would be another 6 miles until DMTM (Deadwood Mickleson Trail Marathon Aid station) and another uphill climb.

Stay tuned for part 3.

It's a good day to be alive,

Mike

"Running Is Not Something I Do", Lean Horse 2014, Race Report, Part 1

This is part one of Melissa's Lean Horse 2014 race report.  Melissa asked me to help edit her story, to reduce the length.  After a breathless first read and tearing up on the last several paragraphs. I advised her to just leave it be and let the words sing. They may be a little off key in places and raw in others but my-oh-my, that girl sure can hit the high notes! Her story soars. Part 2, 3, and 4 will be published on SMR over the next several days. Enjoy.

"Running is not something I do, it's more like something I am."
Melissa Budd

The weather forecast called for cold and rain.  At 18 C, humid and windy, this hardly seemed like the Lean Horse 100 I had known for the past 5 years.  Usually the daily high was between 30-35C and dry as a bone.  I suppose this was fitting as the Lean Horse 100 2014 was almost an entirely new course.    I was ready for an adventure!

As a teacher I’ve always treasured my summers, no marking, no lunch making and scheduling is minimal.   One of the things I most look forward to is  training for Lean Horse 100.  Running to me is not something I do – it’s more like something I am.  It is as much a part of my day as anything else, sleeping, eating, relationships….  At times, it is my comfort, my burden, my sanity.  I love the Paul Maurer quote below (The Gift - A Runner's Story) as it summarizes the rawness of running….

Running isn't a sport for pretty boys...It's about the sweat in your hair and the blisters on your feet. It’s the frozen spit on your chin and the nausea in your gut. It's about throbbing calves and cramps at midnight that are strong enough to wake the dead. It's about getting out the door and running when the rest of the world is only dreaming about having the passion that you need to live each and every day with. It's about being on a lonely road and running like a champion even when there's not a single soul in sight to cheer you on. Running is all about having the desire to train and persevere until every fiber in your legs, mind, and heart is turned to steel. And when you've finally forged hard enough, you will have become the best runner you can be. And that's all that you can ask for.        

"The best runner I can be" is not about PBs, PRs, or BQs. Don't get me wrong, I still run hard, give it my all on the hills, I push beyond what I think I can do. I love seeing how far I can go and feel grood when I improve my time. What makes me feel best however, is when I handle the stresses of running better than I did last time. I also love the feeling of losing myself in the run.

This summer I set out to train for Lean Horse.  I was excited about the new course and was looking forward to training with my running partner David.  David is one of the only people I know that doesn’t blink an eyelash when I ask him if he wants to go on a 40 mile training run on Saturday.  One of his best qualities is that he is always ready for an adventure.  

Unfortunately David, AKA my ultra-training partner, broke his collarbone at the beginning of July as he was making the transition to triathlons.  I suppose I could have been more supportive and not said to him, “serves you right….running is an angry mistress and will not put up with your cycling” but I’m a work in progress.   To David’s credit, he laughed and understood my disappointment.  He impressed me with how he maintained such a positive attitude while he was healing that I couldn’t help but to be inspired.  I know I would not have been so gracious and light of heart had it been me.

Without said training partner, I began to ramp up my mileage and quickly got to running 100 mile weeks.  I would run 8-15 miles 6 days a week (usually starting around 5am) and then one long run on the seventh day of 35-40 miles.  I did hills once or twice a week in the mornings with my great training partner Christine (who was battling with planters fasciitis  and ran way more miles with me than she intended to – but did it because she knew I was hurting for people to run with).  Scott Burton, one of the most well trained ultra-runners I know was wonderful with filling in many miles on those long runs that are so hard to do alone.  He, along with Tim Du kept me company and kept me laughing.  I also had a few special events to break up the regular training.  Scott organized the annual Slurpee run that David and I had done in the past, to include lots of people and 35 miles of fun and sugar.  I also did a few triathlons to switch it up a bit and found out I like swimming and am a pitiful cyclist!

By mid-August I was feeling strong, partially due to the fact that Christine kept telling me how strong I was (tell someone something often enough and they will start to believe it) and was anxious to get to South Dakota!

The ride down was great.  David graciously offered to drive down with me and be my crew. He wasn’t sure if he could pace me, but having someone on the course at every station, attending to all my running need was going to be a luxury I had never experienced.  I was sad for him that he wouldn’t be able to run but grateful for the company and the future help he would be giving me.

The pre-race meeting on Friday was filled with anticipation.  It was somewhat like a family reunion. This was my 6^th year at Lean Horse, and seeing familiar faces is always a comfort.  I was excited to see Mike, Loren and Al (Mike and Loren were running the 50 mile and Al was running the 100 mile on a relay team).  The race director, Royce, told us about the new course, how beautiful it was and how excited he was to have us finally here.  He warned us of the longer climbs, the elevation change of 6000ft and the altitude (although South Dakota is over 5000ft above sea level, I’ve never had a problem with the altitude).   He also warned us not to “poop” directly on the trail (move off and cover with dirt), I guess there has been some issues with this in the past.  I wasn’t too worried about this request as I am not a “trail-pooper” and prefer solitude and cover when engaging in that activity.

The weather was cool, cloudy and very windy with a prediction of more cool weather in the morning and rain.  After Loren, Mike, Al, David and I had a quick supper at Subway (as a bonus, we had the privilege of  dining with Jeremy – who eventually won the race) – David and I retired to our rooms for a good night sleep.   In retrospect, I should have switched rooms with David.  His was at the back – very quiet and dark and on the inside.  My room was an outer room and I had trouble falling asleep due to anticipation and the sound of the relentless rain that gave me dreams of painful chafing and miserable cold.

Morning came quickly (although it was quick only AFTER I fell asleep – the time between when I got in bed and fell asleep seemed endless).  I got dressed, made sure I had everything I needed, had a bagel, a banana and a Coke, slipped on my rain jacket and by 5:20 am I was ready to go.  I was a little miffed when I heard  about what a good quiet sleep David had – but that didn’t last for long when I thought of how much help he was going to give me and that driving requires  more alertness than running.

We met at the Custer track.  Large lights illuminated the area and over 100 people were milling around nervously talking and laughing.  I met Brittney – a runner from Winnipeg who was doing her first 100.  Amazing that a young lady (early twenties) was attempting such a feat.  I asked her what her friends thought – she said most of them were impressed but thought she was crazy!  She told me her longest run was 45 or 50 miles….I felt a little inadequate and told her not to tell me such things!!  I was anxious to see my friends Peter and Yen – I knew they were signed up – but I didn’t see them at the prerace meeting.  Peter is from Texas and has a distinct southern drawl.  I heard him before I saw him (so I thought).  I walked quickly toward him and gave him a big hug.  I asked him how he was and said that David wasn’t running this year because of his accident.  He was smiling and nodding.  I called David over.  When David came over, he looked really confused.  I looked at who I thought was Peter, who was still smiling, and then made the realization that it wasn’t Peter.  Awkward!  “Peter” introduced himself as Bob.  He was incredibly gracious and said when a pretty lady comes over and gives him a hug – there is no way he would correct her.