Prickly Pear 50k and 10 mile run
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Prickly Pear 50k and 10 mile run - Run
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Comments: The race is delayed about 45 minutes… the rain has stopped, I’m in a great mood and we walk to the starting line at 8:45. We take a “woodsy” route to the start, still trying to keep our socks dry. Finally, the race starts and we head out – a lot of the water has drained off the roads, so we’re able to keep out of the wet stuff for now. We run about ¼ of a mile on the road, then turn off onto the trail. Before I can even register the mud and water on the trail, we have to ford a fucking river. That’s right – ford a river. The competitors had to hold hands to avoid being swept along in the raging, waste-deep water. So much for keeping our socks dry. Hell, so much for keeping “little welshy” dry… :) It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t stop laughing. It was cool as there was some camaraderie built crossing that river. Once I was through, I stopped in the shoals and started splashing the folks still crossing. There’s always one, right? So we get out of the water and start running again (for about 4 minutes) until we again had to join hands and cross another – and another. After about 2 miles we left the flash-flooded creaks behind and started to settle in. Everybody fell and busted their all. Everyone. The trails were coated with at least 6 inches of mud everywhere there was not 6 inches of water. I settled in an ran a large chunk with a couple of women and we’d hold hands walking along a gully or down steep mud-slick trails. We’d all fall periodically. We all had blood on our shins from all the thorns along the paths (we’d try to stay on the sides as much as possible – running through water is hard). Then we got to the section that reminded me of Vietnam (about mile 7)– waist deep water for at least ¼ a mile. Then again. For the last 2 miles, the mud was so churned up and slick, that all around me I’d hear surprised yells, from men and women as we all started falling again. It was more like cross country skiing that jogging. At this point there was no choice but to run straight down the center of the path – the sides were too slick. Finally the finish line appeared and I was done. I really can’t remember having a more fun time at a run. Scratch that. I have never come even close to having that much fun on a run/race. What would you do differently?: Brought some flippers and goggles Post race
Warm down: We got some fajitas, rice and beans – with beer, of course. Everyone was muddy, bloody and happy as hell to be done, but also to have done it. We stayed for about an hour and a half just drinking and laughing about the points in the race (we’re all different pace, so didn’t run together). Then it was time to go. We slithered into Jay’s SUV and headed home. What limited your ability to perform faster: what didn't? Last updated: 2006-05-15 12:00 AM
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2006-05-15 12:00 PM |
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2006-05-15 12:38 PM in reply to: #424081 |
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Dark foreboding skies accompanied my crappy mood as I locked my door and drove over to my partners in whine. We’d done the marathon in Austin about 2 months previously and none of us felt very confident about a 10 mile trail run as we had been slacking/suffering from big race let down. To top it off, it had douched the night before, so it promised to be a muddy, humid, nasty run.
I get to my buddies house at about 6:40 (race was set to start at 8:00, but I had not registered so we needed to get there early). My mood was getting worse. I was tired (spurs playoffs went late) and pretty vocal about how little I wanted to do the race. The fellas thought this was hilarious as it was my idea to do the damn thing way back when. So, bitching welshy in tow, we drove to the race site (thank god I didn’t drive). So I’m wrapped up in my own personal misery and watching the sky get darker and darker on the way to the park. The hungry, hostile and searching drops that intermittently splatted on the windshield were pregnant with promise…. The truth is I feared this run – more than the half IM or marathon – my training has been for shit.
We get to the race site and all the roads were under 3-4 inches of water, so we tiptoed around and walked incredibly complex routes to the pavilions in order to keep our socks dry. I paid my ridiculously inflated race day entry (double the pre-registration) and my mood sunk even further. Internally I cussed my friends who would not let me back out, myself for being a pussy and telling not them to get fucked, the rain, my training, my slut mother for ever conceiving me… You name it. While my buddies were ogling all the hot ladies (and there were an inordinate amount of them and they were all wet), I would include them in my running dialogue about how much I hated everything. She’s a bitch – her nose looks like a boomerang, etc….
After tiptoeing back to the car, we got inside to wait for the race to begin.
In the car, we watched as it got progressively darker, windier and wetter. The rain, after an hour or so of vacillating on whether it was going to show for the party, made an appearance the likes of which I’ve rarely seen. In a 1 hour period, it rained about 3 inches. For the first time that morning, I smiled. Good, lets make it really shitty, I thought. My buddy in the back seat (who hates the IDEA of mud between his toes, mush less the reality) says “Maybe Thomas is right. Maybe we should call it a day. Go get some bloody marry’s or something (he’s one of the “Mexicans”). Jay says “well, if ya’ll wanna quit, I'm ok with that. What do you say, Thomas?”
“Huh….” I say, not really paying attention. I’m looking at the clouds spin a lazy circle, again and again. “Look at that, Jorge. Looks like a funnel cloud…” I smile again. Jorge is fussy and little things like that worry the crap out of him.
“Let’s go” he says with trepidation.
Jay laughes and tells him not to be such a wuss. Jay’s a 20 year marine Major. I can see the gleam in his eyes….
Then the rain stoppes and the hail starts. It was like the storm was catching it’s breath. *ping*
*ping ping*
*ping ping ping ping ping ping ping ping ping ping….PING PING PING BANG PING BANG….
“Fuck this. Lets go” Jorge says through my sniggering laughter. Hail is floating like lava on top of the river that we’re now parked in.
“Hell no, I’m running…”
“I hate you.”
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