Always Worth It

Bubbles up

Never more grateful for
the existence of trekking poles
nor happier to be welcomed back home.

They will point us toward home
No matter how deep or how far we roam

They will show you the surface
The plot and the purpose

So when the journey gets long

Just know that you are loved
There is light up above
And the joy is always enough

Bubbles up
Bubbles up

—Jimmy Buffett
***
I had almost forgotten how many ways a long race can go wrong...and right.

This sunrise, which actually got
better the more we climbed.

Like, how I can sign up for a 55-mile event, finish just half of it...and still feel like it was an amazingly great day.

The H.U.R.T. Peacock Challenge 55 started in the dark, immediately climbing a couple thousand feet to look out over a gorgeous Hawaiian sunrise. 

That view alone made the hours that followed worthwhile—a mindset I rediscovered despite not running an ultra for more than four years.

***

Our farm sits on the lower NE side of Mauna Kea. The country roads on these slopes are almost entirely up or down—not a lot of flat to be found anywhere. 

Which makes it an excellent place to train for climbing.

This is fortunate since one loop of the PC course includes more than 6,200 feet of elevation. 

What our hills didn't prepare me for was 90-degree temperatures on "the Long Road"—an exposed, seven-mile out-and-back on baking asphalt. We get some warm, tropical conditions over here on our side of the Big Island, but nothing like that.

Woof, it was rough, and it left me wrung out and hung out to dry.

Miles 23 to 28.5 were an exercise in patience, as I was moving slowly through some acute physical lows. In years gone by I would have been deep into a pity party that invariably would go something like...

"What's wrong with you? You should be running this."

"I don't know what's wrong with me, but I know I don't want to be out here any more."

"Well, that's stupid, there's only a few miles left."

"You're stupid."

"No, you are."

...and so on.

None of that negativity happened on this day, because I knew what was wrong with me (electrolyte imbalance and dehydration), and I knew I was going to have to just settle in and hike the rest of the way.

And I was okay with that. Because it was something I knew I could do, even if it took a good long while, no matter how lousy I was feeling.

Also, recognizing I wasn't going to make the first loop cutoff (7.5 hours), it felt like there was still some honor to be had in getting back to the starting line under my own power.

So, that's what I did.

***

In these few days post-Peacock, I've felt a lot better than I was expecting to. My legs feel sound, with no pain at all. Which tells me the many months of hill training were on point.

As with a couple of previous DNFs of 50 miles or longer, I'm left to wonder what I could have done differently about my hydrating and electrolytes. The challenge is that none of my experiences at those distances have been similar, and no regimen has worked the same way twice.

Just when I think I have something figured out that I think I can count on, the ground-rules shift beneath me.

As it goes in an ultra, so it is in life.

Point me toward home, somebody.

Bubbles up. 

***
Toe the line.
Take the chance.
Blow up.
Struggle.
Fall apart.
Try again.
Worth it.

Always worth it.

—Sally McRae

***

Peacock Challenge 55

DNF

Shoes:

Topo Mountain Racer 2

Song stuck in my head for way too many miles:

"Surfing In A Hurricane" —Jimmy Buffett

Comparative Adventuring

"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing."

—Helen Keller
***
"forgot coffee at home. acquired some of the swill we serve here. set it on my desk, knocked it off with my elbow. all over floor and clothes. swore. opened cabinet to grab paper towels, cabinet door came off the hinge. hunkered over to sop up coffee, came up and hit my head on underside of desk."

—Me, on a work day, October 2011

***

It's become obvious that we have a problem with one of our neighbors.

In the past few weeks he's broken through one of our perimeter gates multiple times, and subsequently broken into our chicken yard an equal number of times.

At first we asked him, in a neighborly way, not to do these things, by quietly reinforcing the gate. In response, the breaking and entering escalated to a daily occurrence—at which time we decided to stop putting up with his bullshit, and called his owner.

Yeah, the bad neighbor is a bull—his name is Bambi, and he's a big jerk. He repeatedly put our chickens in danger of being crushed, and us in danger of being disfigured herding him out of the chicken yard and through the irrelevant outer gate.

In addition, we figure he owes us a new 6-foot gate and a new 30-foot section of chicken-yard fencing.

Fortunately his owner is *not* a jerk—he's been apologetic about Bambi's anti-social antics, and has offered to pay for repairs.

***

In this very same timeframe it became obvious that we had a parallel problem with a different neighbor.

This one decided it would be great fun to harass our sheep.

It started with frantic yelling at them, then quickly escalated to crawling under our fence and chasing them from one end of their paddock to the other.

Tired of our sheep being terrorized and traumatized, we once again took matters into our own hands. The neighbor in question is now tied to a post on our front deck.

Yeah, he's a Border Collie named Patchi, staying with us while his owner is on a photo assignment in Tahiti.

We *hate* restraining Patchi like this, but his herding instinct overwhelms his good manners. He literally can't be trusted off the leash for ten seconds. 

So, he'll be herding chew toys on the deck for another 48 hours.

***

Our work days have changed significantly since that October day in 2011. Our office is now a small farm, and the coffee is always good.

Sure, sometimes the work environment is physically hostile—but now we can actually take immediate and definitive steps to remedy the problem. It's quite liberating.

I'll take that seven days a week, 10/10, no notes.