Looking back after some 18 years of intermittently running the Lone Pine marathon, I am still hypnotized by the shear majestic beauty of this trail marathon.  Even Pike’s Peak cannot compare to the Sierras in beauty.  Perhaps it is the 4000 foot elevation setting so close to a 14,000 foot peak that practically takes your breath away.  Of course if the view doesn’t take your breath away, then the uphill run will quickly accommodate you.  Within about 3 miles of steady uphill you again realize why this is called the west coast’s most difficult marathon.  I have also noticed a serious flaw in a lot of ultra/trail runners, that is, we have a short memory for pain suffered during a running event and only retain the feeling of glory just to have reached the finish line. It’s a wonder that we survive ourselves!

The new finish at Wild Wild West was another wonderful scenic view of the Alabama Hills that was a delight.  I will have to go back and hike that section just to see what I was too tired to see in my weak condition.  The trail was on high ridges dropping off into canyons with green growth and can only be seen airplane or on foot.  I was looking forward to a downhill finish instead of the previous uphill finish of past years. However I must admit that it was another example of a downhill finish that felt like it was mostly uphill.  The last two miles around the west side of Lone Pine and then coming back to the park from the North seemed like 4 miles. 

The Chamber of Commerce still has a lot to learn about putting on an ultra.  They are trying harder. However, the high entry fee combined with poor trail markings in the Alabama Hills and a somewhat chaotic race result summary will need to be greatly improved if they are to overcome what amounted to several running clubs boycotting the run.  Denise Jones was responsible for producing a marvelous T-shirt that was of quality material that went back to their classic design of years past.  The friendly aide stations were well stocked and numerous.

Perhaps our running club should volunteer to help reroute and mark some of the spots in the Alabama Hills that were so confusing.  If the Chamber will lower the entry fee (I dropped approximately $200 on motel and restaurant costs) and ask for help, this wonderful Sierra run can be restored to its former fame.
 

Deb Brown, Sher Davis and myself set out for the Wild Wild West marathon/ultra marathon on Saturday, May 1 – and what an awesome, wild and wonky day it was!  Can’t remember having so much fun!

I’m sure we sounded like a barnyard full of cackling hens, and I’m surprised we didn’t get fined for acoustic pollution. We gabbed and hooted and shrieked and whooped it up the entire way, probably to the distress of the runners and walkers around us, who no doubt had a more contemplative and peaceful experience in mind when they signed up for the run.

Personally, it was a great day for me. Having suffered recently from running setbacks, I was convinced there would be no more marathons in my future. But the Gods of Distance Running were shining upon me Saturday, and I emerged unscathed, energetic and positive.  I’m convinced that going even slower than normal (if that is possible) and taking the time to stretch (and stretch, and stretch some more) and not focusing on the finish line, but instead focusing on the moment, all played a role in my running happiness. Plus, having two great friends who graciously slowed down for me, even though they were capable of going faster, was very special. Awwww, you girlies are great!

One of the funniest things we saw on the trail, whose image is permanently etched in my mind, was of a human skeleton dressed in running clothes, splayed out on the trail just before an aid station. He had a water bottle in his bony outstretched hand, and the sign near him said, “I’m OK…really”.  I laughed so hard I nearly split a gut! Kudos to whoever came up with that one – it made my day! And, we all know that things are only funny when there’s an element of truth to them. There are times when we all can relate to the skeleton, I’m sure.

Sher and Deb veered off at the 50K/marathon split – they opted for the full distance while I chose the relative shortness of the marathon. Sher bravely soldiered on despite horrible, painful blisters on her heel, and Deb kept her company. It’s one thing to run when you’re just sore and worn out, but a very different experience to continue on with painful blisters. Sher, you are brave, and my hat’s off to you. Deb created quite the scene at the split, including the theatrics of throwing herself on the ground and using her bottled water to create “tears” to try and convince me to run the ultra, but – my favorite saying came into play here – “My momma didn’t raise no fool!” So, we parted company. I have to admit, I gloated some over my perceived wise decision…

Deb, who has more “go juice” than the Energizer Rabbit on Jolt Cola, astounded us all. Now this is the woman who trains 4 miles – no more – for distance events. I’m convinced she has a stealthy energy-sucker-tube stashed in her fanny pack, and snakes it out when we’re not looking to suck away our energy. That must be how she does it, there’s no other plausible explanation for somebody to have that much energy. She hopped and bounded and leaped and laughed the whole way. Gracious me, it makes me tired just thinking about it.

After Deb and Sher and I split, I had some quiet time (whew!) to reflect and meditate. I stopped numerous times along the trail to stretch, and enjoyed the beautiful views of the Sierras and the surrounding areas. What an inspiring place to be.  At a couple of the aid stations, I laid on the ground to stretch – at any other time, I’m sure I would have considered the ground highly uncomfortable, what with the rocks, sand, and little sticky shrub pieces – but at the time, it felt like heaven.

At the last aid station, there was a horse in a pen that seemed curious of me, but reluctant to come up to the fence where I could pet him. I spent some minutes coaxing and clucking, and he finally got up the nerve to approach me and let me pet his velvety nose.  (Any wonder why he was frightened at the image of a crazy woman in a weird hat with dried sweat and salt covering all visible areas, panting for breath?)  Thank you, Mr. Horse, for trusting me. What a nice gift.

I don’t know how I finished in relation to everybody else – my time was 7:01, probably last place – but I felt like a winner, blessed with a perfect, perfect day. Hallelujah, this is why I run!

Deb and Sher finished awhile later from the 50K course, Deb still bouncing off the walls, Sher hobbling a bit from those nasty blisters. Way to go, grrrrlfriends!  Thanks for helping make my day special.
 

It was a great day with quite warm temps, estimated 70-80 degrees during the run.  56 folks started the race with 34 in the run and 22 in the walk.  Thanks go to Joe Oliver for coordinating the T-shirts, John Anderson the water stops(including a Scout troop, the Schillings family and Sig Gallgher and co.),  Scotty the potties and mile markers and Phil Martin and Chris Rios the finish line. 

Standing at the start line in Bishop pondering my foolhardiness, wondering where the other 70 year olds were that day, it dawned on me that I am becoming a class in itself. You can fill in the name of the class. I can offer some names, such as egotistical old fart or man that has lost most of his brain cells running too many ultras, etc.
 
However, as misery loves company, my good friend Chris Rios (not having trained for the run), agreed to accompany me up the hill. We both struggled to gain the 17 miles and 4000 feet of altitude to the turnaround at Edison Loop aide station. About 7 minutes after turning back I came across Pat DeVita -Vicki's Mom and a 70 year old. Needless to say, I kicked it into high gear, roaring downhill at a blistering twelve minute per mile speed (strange how your values change with age), starting to create my excuse for being whipped by an old women. I then realized that she is two weeks younger than me and rationalized that I could claim to be beat by a younger women and no shame!
 
As luck would have it, I beat Pat down the hill. The 50K course turned out to be 33.6 miles according to Pat DeVita's GPS monitor so I ran close to a 15 min pace, very much like Lone Pine, finishing in 8 hrs and 46 minutes. I now have another winner’s cup that I won't drink from because of its size and so it will join my accumulation of junk that my children will someday throw away, not wanting to keep a monument to my foolishness.
 
Race Director, Marie Boyd saw Chris and I littering the lawn with our beat up bodies and offered us two Advil combined with two Tylenol with hopes of not having to remove our bodies along with the trash when time came to police the area.
 
 Oh yeah, How did I finish last in my age class?  It depends on how you view things.  The following email was received from my friend, Ron Covert. 

During the Second World War, a group of GIs were stuck on a Pacific island. To while away the time, they played a series of softball games, the officers against the enlisted men. As it turned out, the officers won more games than the common GIs.
 
   Shortly after the end of the prolonged series of games, the following notice was posted on the bulletin board:
 
      We are proud to announce that the Enlisted Men were runners-up in the recently completed softball tournament. We extend our condolences to the Officers, who finished next to last.
 
   So, Sir Runner, let me be the first to extend my condolences, given that you finished last in your age group at the Bishop 50K.  May you have better luck next time.

   Pat and John. We only stood up long enough to be photographed.

The only moral to the above story is “If you live long enough, you may become your own age class!”