I am at a loss abot how to blog about today. I thought 12 m/m on a trail would be a step down from trying to run distance alone and all I can say is Marathon running is child's play compared to bushwacking. Holy effing frick-n-frack. Seriously. K, first of all, I ran a mile up the wrong hill, and the young man who instructed me to do so, ran all the way after me to let me know I had gone the wrong way. Nice save....I would have run 4 extra miles up hill and I would have been eaten by mountain lions. He felt so guilty about misdirecting me he offered to go with me to aid station 9 about 7 miles from the bottom. I want to say, it was the most beautiful, amazing back woods, Wasatch Mountain magesty, but truly what I want to report is HOLY HECK, how in the world do they do that for FIFTY, count 'em FIFTY FREAKING miles. I want to cry right now just thinking about how hard my 17 was. On the way up, ran into Davy Crockett who was heading down in about 15th place. He looked totally nonplussed. Oh Hi! Luzy Lew, 46 miles over knee deep snow and 45 degree incline, 6,800 foot altitude--no big deal. Sure. I was fine for the moment once I got to the aid station after climbing through mud and snow for over a mile and a half. I did not even notice the multiple scraps and mud caked onto my lower legs, or worry about my wet muddy shoes and socks. My new friend Matt had run up the whole mountain without water, I noticed when we arrived. So I shared mine with him. He was such a sweetheart and did what he could to protect me from slding down the rocky cliffs and just be there when the three homeless guys came out of the bushes. Seriously, if Matt hand't come with me, I wouldn't have made it all the way up to the aid statin (a), and (b) I would have been all alone in a scary back mountain 5 miles from freaking anywhere. I would have been lost out there at least 4 times. Bless young, handsome Matt and his Great Harvest bread making, Unviersity Psychology studying, from a hog farming from Missouri little self. Were it not for him, I would be strapped to a tree by three sunburned homeless guys wondering how I got way out there in the mountains by myself. The run down was rough. I slid down that snow and mud and almost tripped myself off a cliff at least a hundred times. I wanted to cry and only kept thinking of Jim ahead of me who had run over 40 miles. Since I was 'the pacer' I had to be all strong right? I was the 'fresh' one. Mother of all that is holy, coming down that mountain started to make me think of that guy Aaron whats-his-name who cut off his own hand when it was pinned under a rock for 3 days. It's not like you can even DNF that race. Whose gonna come get you? You still have to go down the mountain on your own two legs, even if you're not running anymore. It was the scariest thing I think I've ever put myself up to and it makes Marathon running look like eating an ice cream sundae in a fancy ice cream parlour. Jim's wife Nancy met us at the last aid station and paced us to the bottom. I was 100% out of gas. I thought this was going to be an easy, slow down hill run. I ran 21 last Saturday and was not expecting the challenge that I faced today. Once we finished I dove into the fishing pond at Vivian with my Blackberry still in my back pocket. I was so tired and filty from the trail I didn't even care. We said goodbye to my dear friends Jim & Nancy and took off. I have NEVER, in all of my life wanted to get into the bathtub more than I wanted to today. I can't believe I didn't die today, in so many ways. Whoa. Who knew Squaw Peak 50 miles actually translates to like 100 regular road miles. Man, I am a BABY, a tiny poppy diapered whiny baby compared to those guys. Wow. | 