Gunnison 2011

My son graduated High School the Tuesday before Sage Burner, and originally I thought it was the Thursday before. Anyway, to save some money and give me the option not to go, I didn't register for the race.



Instead, I ran the course starting a much-too-late 1hr 45m after the start. I brought three 20oz bottles. At about mile 11, I bummed a quart off a very generous guy in a pickup. Then at the half-way point, there was an aid station that was still being taken down, and they filled me up. Then the next aid station was gone but they left all the water jugs. Cool - most of the race and still supplied.



But it was hot and very low humidity. I was drying out faster than ever.
By mile 12, my quads started hurting - left-overs from the Jemez 50 the weekend before. Then the dehydration slowed me down. I slowed so much so quickly that my progress became pathetic. There were two opportunities to shortcut back, but I was too stubborn. I really should have taken them, but, well, I'm stupid.



A biker gave me another 8oz. That helped me get almost back. Then a guy gave me a refill of an entire 20oz bottle with over half a mile to go, plus he mixed Heed with it. So I made it actually 32 miles total for the entire day.
It was too risky-stupid but worked out. It was hippy-running - bumming nearly all my aid. I guess it puts extra meaning to "Trail Bum". I guess I needed a cardboard sign that said, "I'll be honest - I just need a drink - and a Gu."



There were over a dozen of us from Denver camping together. It was a lot of fun.

Sunday, I stopped in Leadville for a short high-altitude run. The local kennel was out running their dogs in the snow off-leash because no one was out there. I guess I changed that rather unexpectedly. There were about six dogs and two ran up to me real friendly. I love dogs, but my lifestyle, and living in a basement, doesn't leave me a lot of room for a pet. As I got closer to the owners, the whole pack rushed me wagging and licking.
Except for one. It had been an abused dog and loved it's new care-takers. In an over-protective frenzy, it dashed in and ripped a hole in my calf. The kennel owners kind of freaked. I just packed snow on it and told them not to worry about it. It's just something that happened.
The emergency room didn't want to sew it shut. My doctor two days later also said he didn't want it sewed. So I'm going to heal with a hole in the skin.
It's a 90deg cut, all the way through the skin, but miraculously not through the fascia around the muscle. In a weird way, after it was cleaned, it was kind of cool looking through a door at the calf muscle moving around inside.
It never did hurt much - not when it happened, not in the ER, and not later. I think it was the Guillain-Barre that keeps me from feeling all the pain I could feel. Oddly, the Novocaine needle hurt like a hornet sting. It's as if I can feel certain sharp pains all the way, but dull pains not as much. Wouldn't you think getting bit would be a sharp pain? But it didn't hurt when it happened. Whatever.
I'm not supposed to run, but after 32 miles Saturday, I had a little post-run swelling that usually goes away with more running. Holding still caused my legs to swell below the knee. So to keep the swelling from cutting off circulation and causing an infection, I had to walk and run some.
I worked out on my rowing ergometer Tuesday, and I went running Wed., and walked Thurs.
It is a big and ugly wound, but healing well, and not interfering much with my life.