The Year of Good People

The Year of Racing Simply ended on Dec. 28th with Winter Wilder. In hindsight, it was the perfect ending to the year. The Year of Racing Simply hadn't really started at the beginning of the year.  Instead, I realized shortly after Alexander in May that I could just keep this "race for under $10" concept going all year. At the end of that race, likely the hardest thing I'd ever done, there was no medal. There was no big crowd. In fact, the few people cheering were actually cheering for the start of the Wilder Footraces, which coincided with my finish time.  There really wasn't even a finish line that I remember. I came around the corner, saw Eddie and Chris standing on the curb and rode straight over.  I don't remember much about the conversation except for a question from Chris.

"Was it worth it?"

Of course I said yes. I didn't think about why. I just knew it was. I knew those 51 hours had changed me, for the better. I also knew that couldn't have happened without the crazy amount of work Chris puts into his races - all of which are free.

So I decided to keep looking for races like that one - races where, instead of trying to make a buck, the race director focuses on providing an experience.

In the end, there were more amazing experiences than I can count. There were more gravel and mountain bike races, an ultramarathon, a 24 hour mountain bike race, some trail running races, the "6-Hour Round Trip IceBox 5k," and finally, Winter Wilder. (Pretty amazing that a girl can do all that for under $10 a pop.)

Winter Wilder starts and ends at the same spot where we'd finished Alexander. I hadn't even thought about it when I'd signed up. In fact, I didn't really even think about it when we first started running. I ran the first 16 miles with Dustin, the race director, chatting non-stop. When he stopped to wait for others at the checkpoint, I continued on for the last 5-6 miles alone. As I approached town, I came to a turn I recognized. It was the point last May where I'd finally let myself accept that I would finish Alexander. I'd ridden over 380 miles at that point, but I was so worried about another mechanical I wouldn't let myself get too excited about finishing. Finally, with about two miles to go, I'd come to this turn and realized I could walk it in if I had to.

I ran the last two miles, nearly identical to my last two mile of Alexander, thinking about the Year of Racing Simply. I realized it hadn't really been about racing at all. It wasn't finish lines or times or places I remembered. It was moments shared with other people. So perhaps it would have been more fittingly called, "The Year of Amazing Experiences with Good People." 

Of course, the big question lately has been, "What about next year?" To be honest, I don't know. Part of what made this past year so special was that so much of it was unplanned. I took opportunities as they came up instead of spending so much time planning a race calendar and making a training plan. So I don't have a plan for this year, except to keep living outside the comfort zone and keep enjoying my days outside with good people.

Thankfully it only took four days to get started. Nothing better than a night fat bike race to kick the year off!

Hope to see you all out there soon!

The Grinch Is Dead

Big E and I did our best to bake, gift and play enough to out-Grinch any Grinches near us this season. We made 16 pounds of Christmas Crack (aka Almond Roca), 3 liters of fruit-infused brandy, 4 dozen Buckeyes, 3 kinds of cookies, a massive amount of Christmas Necco and a batch of tamales.

Doing our part to make sure our loved ones have no excuse to be hungry or sober this Christmas.

Of course, all this Christmasing did take a toll on our kitchen. All flat surfaces are covered in treats, the floor and cupboards are tinted a bit green from my food coloring explosion and everything is still sticky. Oh well, all the holiday cheer was worth what could be weeks of deep cleaning.

 Just in case any Grinches were still in our vicinity (and to work off a few of those treats) we proved our determination to stay cheerful by heading out on a Christmas Eve adventure despite the sub-zero temps.

I discovered the added warmth provided by the ski helmet and goggles.

Apparently both of our families shared in our determination to slash Grinchiness this year, because between us we ended up with eight Christmas stockings. Santa even put five of them on the end of the bed, in following with Thompson family tradition. (I was sure I spied him doing this naked, but Big E says I was seeing things.)

 Big E even got a pink spatula in his stocking from my family. I've assured him this means he's now one of us. However, I had no explanation for the rubber chicken he received from Pop. He'll have to figure that one out on his own.

 In the end, we were pretty sure we took care of all Grinchiness in our vicinity, but it turned out we really had nothing to worry about. Our favorite deputy made sure of that.

Merry Christmas! (Even to any Grinchy people left out there!)

Why I'm Not a Ballerina

My favorite season is definitely back. I wanted snow. I got snow- every version possible over the course of last week. First is was the light fluffy stuff. I immediately went running in it because there wasn't enough yet to bike and I just had to make some tracks.

The light, fluffy stuff turned wet that night and the next's days run was through slippery slush. For every step uphill I slid half a step back.

By day three we had a decent covering on the ground. I ventured out on the singletrack and discovered we had just enough snow make any large sticks or branches on the trail impossible to see until they caught my toe and sent me tripping forward.

This is why I'm a runner and not a ballerina.

At some point on day three there was a little snow/rain mix and then the temperature dropped. As in sub-zero dropped. By day four I was running on slippery snow-packed sidewalks in a -10 degree windchill. I was kinda wondering if this winter stuff was really as fun as I remembered.

I finally had to add a second hat to this look to avoid "brainfreeze"

On day five, while crossing the street, I did a lovely "I'm trying to not to fall on the ice" dance in front of four cars before finally losing the battle and ending up on all fours.

Again, this is why I'm not a ballerina.

On day six I finally realized I would much rather be skiing or riding my bike in the snow.  Duh. Skiing on a lit trail is so much easier than trying to run on ice in the dark!

Livin' in the Bucket

My quest to race for less than 10 bucks all year continued today with a 5K turkey trot. Of course, finding a 5K to fit my race fee restriction was difficult, but I finally found one at UW La Crosse. I immediately signed up because, well, La Crosse is only an hour away, right?

Enter the wisdom of Big E, who patiently explained after I signed up that La Crosse is 3 hours away. Thankfully, I have not imposed any gas restrictions on myself. (In more ways than one...) After all, this is supposed to be about new experiences and adventure, right?

Of course, the day after I learned of the 6 hour-round-trip drive, I checked the predicted weather for today. 14 degrees. Windchill below zero. Big E then dubbed the race the "6 Hour-Round-Trip-Icebox 5K." Oh well, weather will just add to the adventure, right?

So, that is how I ended up in the car, headed south, at 5:15 this morning. At first I watched in horror as the temperature dropped. Isn't it supposed to be warmer down south? Then I got over myself and got inspired by the sunrise. At some point I noticed a billboard, which is really quite a shock, because, as Pop can attest to, I absolutely suck at reading signs while I drive. I can tell you all about the sunrise, every animal I saw along the road (alive or not) and even what people in other cars were doing, but it is a minor miracle if I can tell you the speed limit or what exit I'm near at any given time while driving.

Anyway, my bad driving habits aside, I saw this billboard for State Farm. It said, "Is Life Insurance on your Bucket List?" This led me to think about my bucket list. My nonexistent bucket list. What? How could I not have a bucket list? How do I not have a list that includes, "Do 6-Hour-Round-Trip-Icebox-5K?"

Since I needed something to do other than read speed limit and exit signs, I thought about this. I really like lists. I've found them quite useful in life because my brain runs a mile a minute but contains a short-term memory of about 3 seconds. I can come up with 25 things I need to do each day before I even eat breakfast, but actually remembering to do them proves to be a challenge without a list. (In fact, I'm quite sure Big E would say that there are days I should probably add, "take a shower" to the list.) If I like lists so much, why don't I have a bucket list?

I found a pretty simple answer, actually. I use lists to help me remember to do things I don't necessarily want to do. Mop the floor.  Call the doctor. Pay the bills. I don't need a list to remember the things I want to do in life because 1) I enjoy them so I remember to do them and 2) I strive to already be doing those things as much as possible (which probably explains why I need a list to remember to take a shower). Not that I'm knocking anyone for having one, but personally, if I really want to travel to all 50 states, I'm probably not going to forget to do this and having it on a list isn't going to make me any more likely to do it. Getting my ass in gear and living is what's going to make me do it.

So, all that rambling brings me to this. I'm just gonna live in the bucket as much as possible and skip the dang list. After all, if I'm living in the bucket, it will be full and much harder to kick.

Perspective (aka Pulling My Head Out of My Ass)

Sometimes I get stuck. Stuck in a routine. Stuck in a rut. Stuck with my head up my ass.

My most recent stuck-ness involving becoming, quite literally, stuck running in circles. I didn't run much earlier in the year. Biking - lots of it - took over, so I hadn't really run more than a few miles at a time around the new pad.

Since I have a bit of an "all-or-nothing" approach to everything, once I started running again this fall, I packed on the miles. Stuck in my routine, rut, head-up-my ass ways, I did most of those miles in the same little circles. Granted, those were some pretty sweet circles, since I can get to a trail with just two minutes of running.

But circles are circles. Sometimes they need to be broken, even if it's just so you get some new perspective.

Last week, I headed out with my camera to take some photos of the fall colors on my little circle. Venturing out with the intent to take pictures instead of simply to run changed my mindset. I started out on my circle and halfway through I got off the trail and crossed the street.

I've run and biked down that street more times than I can remember. I've actually crossed it once before too, riding bikes with Big E. For some reason I had it in my head that I couldn't run on those trails - they were just for biking, they were too unsafe....

When I realized there were ski trails, just as safe as the ones I'd been running, I felt a bit silly. I'd been missing out on cool views of the trains.

On those cold mornings I'd been skipping over this sunny field.

While I was running in comfortable, familiar circles, I was missing out some pretty cool stuff right in front of me.

So I decided, it's time to stop running in circles. It's time to change it up. It's time to change my perspective.

In the end, the old circles will still be there. I can always go back. My new outlook might even make them better.

Race Simple

 This year has been my year of racing simply. No race that costs over $10. I didn't plan this ahead of time, but the first few races of the year were free and I noticed something.  A lot of really amazing stuff happens at these races. When you take away the t-shirt and the glory of the big crowd at the finish line, everyone gets down to the nitty-gritty of why they're racing. It's probably different for everyone, but that doesn't matter. What matters is we're doing it for a reason and not for a prize.

Bike races for $10 or less have been easy to find. Most gravel races are free. Buck Hill and Hillside are $10. Running races have been harder to come by. I found a free 40 miler in July and until this weekend that was it.

Last week, a Facebook friend posted a link to a free half marathon at Lowe's Creek, an unofficial event to test the course for the real deal next year.  I showed up on Saturday with less than 20 other people. Our start line was a card table with a jug of water, some cookies and a piece of paper on which to sign in.

The race director handed me a piece of paper with directions. I panicked. I'm used to reading directions while biking, but while running singletrack? Surely I would break my ankle.

In the pre-race debrief we learned these directions were just for backup. The course was marked with pink tape.

Whew! That will make this much easier on my ankles.

We were also introduced to our lead bike, who would ride just ahead of the leader, showing the way.

There was a quick, "Three, two, one," and we all shuffled off down the trail. No one seemed to want to run in front. I figured now would be my one and only chance in my lifetime to run with the lead bike, even if it was just until the first turn, so I took off after him.

It took less than a mile to realize what a luxury this bike lead was. I didn't have to search for pink tape. I could do what I loved to do, put one foot in front of the other and just run. I felt like I was cheating. I had someone at my every whim. He waited at every turn. If I slowed, he slowed. If I had to go to the bathroom, he......

Oh no. what do I do with this lead bike now that I have to poop?

That's right. Three miles in I had to poop. Normally I would just sneak off in the trees and go, but what was I supposed to say to this kid? "Hey, can you wait for me while I take a dump?" just didn't seem appropriate.

I weighed my options. I didn't want to ask this young guy to wait while I pooped in the woods. The only portapotty was a few minutes off-course. My car was at the halfway point but there was no bathroom there and I certainly wasn't gonna poop in the new car.

I was out of options so I did the only thing I could. I held it for 10 miles and hoped like hell I didn't shit my tights.

Eventually, I could forget, at least for brief moments, that I had to go. Of course, I wasn't encouraged much by that fact that I knew there was no bathroom at the finish, but I figured the faster I got there, the quicker I could go so I ran, as fast as I could, getting back to my own nitty-gritty- that I'm here to give it everything I've got, even if I have to poop.

At the finish, my biker rode ahead, hopping off his bike so I would have at least one person waiting there to cheer. There was no big finish, just the two of us and my time written down on a piece of paper. That was okay by me. I got to race, with a lead biker as an added bonus. I got my nitty-gritty (and I finally got to go find a bathroom).

Race hard. Race simple. Try not to shit your pants.

Helloween Shenanigans

At the risk of appearing like a total pansy, I'm going to admit I chose my Halloween costume this year based on staying warm. Last's years Bonnie and Clyde get-up was fun, but I froze my ass off.  Robin Hood seemed like a much warmer option. Of course, then it was so warm for the Halloween Hellside race that Big E got to really let it all hang out in his trucker costume.

Should I be worried at how well he embraced this costume?

 Oh well, at least I was warm for the race and shenanigans that followed. Pumpkin smashing, pie smashing, beer can smashing, a little forking around....

 

 

 Yes, that is the race director dressed as a flag. At some point he was also a donkey but I'll spare you the creepy pictures. All in all, a fun day filled with shenanigans, adult beverages masquerading as full meals

and lots of good friends.

Every one wants a little trucker tongue in his ear, right?

 Although I'm not sure if Jeffro really wants to be this close of friends with Big E.....