With temperatures soaring into the 90’s today in Boise, Mores Mountain was a pleasant 59 degrees when we started our mountain run. Sparkle and Randy joined me on our run around the backside of the mountain – Randy decided to go 5+ more miles when we “finished” our run to get in a longer run in preparation for his upcoming (first) 50-miler.

I wish that there were a way to capture the scent of the sage and other flowers that carpeted the mountain side. As we ran through waist-high vegetation getting wet from the dew still on the leaves, we inhaled the freshness of the plants. You can capture the scenery in photos, but the smell is something you obviously have to experience.

Originally, we had planned to just run the 9-mile loop, but we took a little detour and added a few miles in the middle to the top of Shafer Butte to take in the even more spectacular views.

I’ve run on the trails at Bogus Basin a number of times, but this was my first trek around the back side of Mores Mountain. I know I sound like a broken record, but we are so fortunate  to have trails like this practically out our back door. It just doesn’t get much better than this.

In a span of 8 days, I ran 4 different trails with 4 different groups of people…all within 2 hours of Boise. The cool thing about that is that we had all ages, all speeds, all running “together.”

It started out a little over a week ago when my friend Christie proposed that we go for a long trail run to support Randy who is running his first 50-miler in July. She posted it on Facebook, and about 8 of us got together for a run in the nearby Boise foothills. Our only “live” meeting for some of us was a couple of months ago when we all ran the Weiser 50K. Prior to that, most of us didn’t even know each other. This was the first time this particular group had ever run together…and what a great run it was. The speedier ones ran ahead and waited at various spots while the rest of us caught up to them. This was not a race – it was a group trail run – so no one was truly concerned about time.

Later that week, my friend Donna who is training for the WIFKER (Wild Idaho Fifty Kilometer Endurance Run) asked me if I wanted to drive up past Crouch, Idaho, and run part of the WIFKER trail. Sure, I said, so we recruited Sparkle, and the 3 of us headed out about 430 pm and drove 2 hours to do a 9.5 mile run. We were lucky enough to see a rubber boa on the trail within the first 5 minutes and got its picture. We later learned that this a seldom seen snake – and the sighting was something very cool.

My next run for the week took a hardy group of 6 of us up to the Boise National Forest NE of Idaho City…about a hour an a half from Boise. What a spectacular run it was. We climbed 2 summits up to the Fire Tower lookouts – for a total of 4000+ feet of climbing in about 18 miles. The views were unbelievable (as you can see from the photos).

And, finally, as is tradition of the 4th of July, the Boise Y Striders get together for a trail run up to Stack Rock above Bogus Basin. About 20 of us hit the trails above Boise and trekked 8 miles to see Stack Rock.

So what’s the big deal, you wonder. They’re just trail runs. Yes, the scenery was some of the best Idaho has to offer close to Boise. But it was the people who made the runs special. It wasn’t about who was the fastest, or who can run a 3-hour marathon or a 6-hour marathon. We are all just folks who love running on trails, and in every instance that is what brought us together.

Sure we had some fast runners, but no one cared who ran or walked, and people who might not ordinarily run together were running on the trails side by side…stopping to take pictures and marveling at the sights.

Although I love solitary running, last week was one of the best weeks of running I’ve ever had in a long time.

To all my trail running friends – Thanks.

The Boise Greenbelt is about 25 miles of asphalt path along the Boise River – more than that really if you add up the distance on both sides of the river. Winding under streets, it’s great because you never have to get on the street at all. Although trail running is my preference, the greenbelt is 1/3 mile from my house, and I enjoy the river and the shady spots the greenbelt provides.

When I’m out on the trails in the foothills alone, I rarely run across other runners – I usually see more mountain bikers than runners. But when I do, I always say hey or some other greeting, and rarely do I greet someone without some response.

So, yesterday morning, since I hadn’t run the greenbelt in awhile, I decided I’d say “Good Morning” to every single person I saw – kids, bikers, runners, walkers. And, I saw a bunch of folks.

I’m happy to report that the response was good – even better when I threw in “Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” I would estimate that about 90% of the people I spoke to responded. There were a few with headphones on who might not have heard me – although I know they saw me because we made eye contact, and I waved. And, there were a few kids on bikes who flew by me and didn’t respond.

There was one group of high school kids (probably a cross-country team) running in small groups (some with headphones), but every one of them said “Good Morning.” Even a couple of guys who appeared to be homeless (they looked kind of like they were drunk, too) said hey when I passed them.

I have to believe that the people who didn’t respond probably didn’t hear me or were in a “zone.” Otherwise, my greetings were hard to ignore, and in my fantasy world of making people’s day a little brighter with just a “Good Morning,” maybe they passed along the good cheer to someone else.



Before RAAM, we read books, we watched videos, we read blogs of other RAAM riders.
Before RAAM, we studied elevation maps, we studied the terrain, we studied reports on hydration, nutrition, muscle fatigue, and sleep deprivation.
We thought we knew what RAAM was.
We thought we knew how hard RAAM was.
We thought we knew what we were getting into.
We knew nothing.

There is a reason this is considered “the toughest bike race in the world.” I have seen some really tough folks, but Mike is by far the toughest person I’ve ever known. Mike gave this ride everything he had and then some.

You’ve heard people say, “You just had to be there.” I gotta tell you – This is one of those times – You just had to be there. Even the elevation maps that look impossible don’t tell the whole story.

A fellow RAAM rider commented on one of Mike’s blog posts that the way you train for RAAM is by trying it. Another said that his trek of 743 miles was his RAAM training ride. Will Mike attempt RAAM again? Maybe. We are all more enlightened…we all know a little more. Every day, every night, every minute at RAAM is an education for the rider and the crew.

Mike didn’t finish RAAM, and in the official stats he is listed as a DNF (did not finish). In my book, that stands for “Did Nothing Fatal.”

Some people might say Mike “failed” to finish RAAM. Technically, that is true. But he finished his own first RAAM…all 743 miles of it…and that was just part of his successful RAAM ride.

- Mike was a success when he raised $30,000 for the Sanford Cardiovascular Research Center and the Dick Beardsley Foundation.
- Mike was a success when 13 people who believed in him and his cause were honored to join his crew.
- Mike was a success when he was waiting on that podium in Oceanside at the start – before he pedaled his first stroke.
- Mike was a success when he rode 743 miles.

How you do anything is how you do everything. Mike rode RAAM like he lives his life.

Jack London wrote, “I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.”

Mike gave 100% on every inch of those 743 miles.

It was an honor to serve Mike on this piece of his journey. Should he decide someday to go back to RAAM for another attempt, I will be the first one to sign on as his crew.

Thanks, Mike – we are all better people for having been on this leg of your journey with you.

People often ask me, “Why do you run?” Every time I go out on the trails, I know why I run. Sometimes I think…if I could just get them out on the trails, they would understand.

Last weekend,  my daughter Kelly came in town (to Boise) from Los Angeles. Her running usually consists of street running around her neighborhood. I understand that – until I came to Boise, that’s what I did. So, when I told her that we were going to drive 45 minutes to get to a trail I’ve never run before, she wasn’t overly enthusiastic. She wondered why we couldn’t just drive 5 minutes and run on the trails around my house. My answer was that I’d never run these trails, and I wanted her to experience something really special.

And, we were not disappointed.

We went with Michelle, my other daughter who is a Boise trail runner, and my friend Ben, who is a hardcore ultrarunner. (He has been tapering this week for a 50-miler so he figured he could run easy with us on a short run on the trails.)

As you can see from the photos, the trail was spectacular. A few miles into the run, we descended into a canyon where we ran along a rushing creek and also ran into some rain. I added some time on to our run by stopping to take pictures. (These days I don’t leave home without my camera.) When we climbed out of the canyon, the rain stopped, and we were greeting with blue skies.

We trudged through a couple of miles of deep sand (which wasn’t my favorite part of the run), and finished on a gradual downhill back to the car. Michelle, Kelly, and Ben climbed one more mega hill when we finished as I took video of their trek to the top and back.

I suppose I take the pictures for myself because pictures can never truly capture the trail experience. We all loved our run in Wilson Creek, but I think Kelly especially loved it. Maybe she’ll seek more trails around L.A. now…even if she has to drive to get there.

Change is good. New experiences, new photos, new look. I’ve changed the look of my blog…for the better, I think. I’ve been taking my camera along with me on my trail runs, and I wanted my website to reflect the new adventures I’m experiencing.

The header photo is a trail around Table Rock in the Boise foothills.

I’ve had some technical issues with my blog in recent months, but I think I’ve worked them out. I lost a number of posts, but I’ll be updating my trail adventures in the coming weeks.

Once again, my friend Bill Wenmark conquered the Bataan Death March in White Sands, New Mexico. Congrats to Bill and all his friends!

Here is a note/race report from Bill after the awesome accomplishment by him and his friends…

“First and foremost thanks to my ALARC friends who got me to Bataan in 2009.  After that experience there was no question I would be returning this year.

This year I was joined by Ken Chlouber, Tom Bryant, Rachel Van Sloan, and the always inspirational Burt Carlson.  We also saw Doug Thomas and Carol Zazubek too.  Ken went for the Civilian Heavy, 35# pack for 26 miles for his first Bataan march.  Tom was running his first marathon and first Bataan since 1996 after having had both of his knees replaced last March.  Rachel is a tremendous athlete and wanted to do Bataan…and Burt increased his marathon count to 312…at 84 years young.

(Tom Bryant, Ken Chlouber, Bill…keeping warm)

We all camped at the same location as last year.  This year I stayed in the back of my Suburban.  It was great…we hooked up our coffee pot, and space heater and had a warm place to have some great coffee each morning.  Ken and Burt stayed in their tents.  Tom and Rachel were in their trucks.  It was cooler this year, hitting 28-30 in the mornings.

I decided to be the “domastique” for the guys during the run.  Rachael did not need anyone…she ran GREAT….she finished 3:44:46, 5th in the women’s event.  Tom did not need my help…he finished great at 7:12:06 hours.  I went with Ken and then Burt during the day and finally finished with Burt at 8:55:55, chip for Burt was 8:50:14.  I went back out for about 2 hours looking for Ken.  He had thought he would do about 10 hours.  WELL….not only did he not need 10 hours…he powered through the Civilian Heavy to the finish line at 8:08:13….WOW…he finished first in his age group and set the course record for 70 and over.  Absolutely tremendous effort for everyone…

(14 mile mark.  Joe is an 18-year veteran of the Army. He flies UAVS from a Humvee. The bag piper is from England…he stopped at every aid station and played his pipes for 10-15 minutes.  Of course, Bill and the World famous Burt Carlson.)

It was also a great day…very cold in the morning…and then warming to a delightful 60 with a very light and cool wind from the north…nothing like last year.

I had a great day…for my 99th marathon…felt great.  Average pulse for the day was 100….Hmmm do you think the living room at 10,125 feet helped????  Grandmas Marathon in June will be my 100th Marathon.

Here are a few pictures to enjoy.  I will be retuning again next year (March 27,2011)…it is a very special place, event, and experience.   -Love, Bill”

Twelve years ago I ran my 2nd marathon ever … in Napa Valley, California. Last weekend, Kelly and Michelle, my 2 daughters ran their 3rd marathon…together…in Napa Valley.

(Joan, Michelle, Kelly, Kimberly)

That March weekend in 1998, I never dreamed that 12 years later I would be watching my kids run the same course I ran. Michelle brought her friend Kimberly along with her (Kimberly’s first marathon), and my friends Joan and Lori joined us from Indiana. Joan ran the marathon; Lori ran her first comeback 5K after a year-long injury.

Our original plan was that Kelly, Michelle, and I would run together. However, I ended up cheering from the sidelines on this one as I was still recovering from my recent 100-mile race. It actually worked out great because I was able to focus on making their race a fun, memorable experience.

The only thing missing from this weekend was my son Daniel. A couple of my friends asked me when he planned to join us in a marathon. So I asked Daniel that same question this morning…to which he replied, “That would be…Never.” Some might say he’s the smartest one of the whole bunch!

Michelle, Kelly, and Kimberly have decided that for them a marathon every other year is a good plan. So, we’ve set our sights on Big Sur in 2012. Daniel had better look out…Never say never!

The Rocky Raccoon 100 mile & 50 mile Endurance Trail Run – mostly flat, single-track trails with roots. Now, does that sound easy to you?

For the “normal” person, the answer to that question is, “Heck, no!” But to ultra trail runners looking to finish (not even win) a 100 or 50 mile trail run, the answer might be quite different.

I’m here to tell you … There’s no such thing as an “easy 100.”

Last weekend, with the support of a terrific crew, I completed the Rocky Raccoon 100 Mile Run in Huntsville, Texas, in 28 hours 38 minutes – my first 100-mile finish. The time limit was 30 hours – I had 1 hour 22 minutes to spare.

Rocky Raccoon consists of five 20-mile loops inside the Huntsville State Park. To some, that may sound a little boring, but to me, every loop was different. Starting out at 6 am in the dark, we couldn’t see the first hour of the root-covered course. What was so cool was to see a continuous line of head lamps snaking down the path – that is, when I could look up and see it. My eyes were focused primarily on the ground in front of me. Evidence that I can’t run on a rooty trail and look around at the same time is that I fell down twice in the first 4 miles. Right off the bat, I thought, “This is going to be a long day.” The good news is that I only fell down 4 more times in the next 96 miles!

Still energized with it being so early in the race, the sunrise continued to add to my energy and excitement. I settled into a nice easy pace and started meeting the other runners around me. It was Keith from Kankakee, IL, who threw out a hand to pull me up on my second fall. Later in the day, I had the opportunity to pass along a helping hand to several other runners who tripped on the roots.

My 2nd loop went great – still feeling strong when I got to the 40-mile aid station. I thought I was feeling a couple of hot spots on my feet where I might be getting a blister or two, but I didn’t want to take my shoes off and look. I heard a Navy seal say, “Pain is only pain if you acknowledge it.” I’m no Navy seal, but that came into my head at that moment, so I refused to acknowledge it, and guess what? It went away. Back out for loop number 3.

I knew that it would get dark on this loop, so I flipped my hat around and strapped on the head lamp. I think it was around mile 50 when it started to get dark…and it was really dark. I was pretty much out there by myself as the field had spread out a lot over 20 miles. But I loved it. I have discovered that night running is a quite peaceful experience. I had actually been looking forward to this part of the run. As it got darker, I heard the sounds of some deer (I think) running through the woods. And, when I got around to the lake, I heard the coolest animal sounds, especially the frogs (I think) who sounded like they were laughing at us crazy runners.

I had only one little episode during loop 3 that caused me a little distress – I got off course. I was following the glow sticks along the course and at the turns, but there was one place where I was supposed to go straight following an arrow sign. At that intersection, there were both glow sticks and the arrow, but I totally missed the arrow because I was so focused on looking for the glow sticks. I ended up about a mile out of the way and had to back track to get to the next check point. Thank goodness it wasn’t a bigger miss than that.

I rolled into the 60-mile aid station around 9:20 pm a little stressed for getting off course, but still feeling strong. I traded in my shorts for long pants knowing that the night temperature would probably be in the upper 30s or low 40s and threw on a long-sleeved shirt. I also picked up Chuck (son-in-law), my first pacer. Originally, I had thought that I wouldn’t need a pacer until around mile 75, but with it being so dark out there – and getting off course – I figured a pacer would be a smart move. Although really prepared only to run about 12.5 miles with me, Chuck was thrilled at the chance to put in some more miles, and happily came to my assistance. He ran the whole 4th loop with me – 20 miles more than he had originally planned on. Now that’s a great crew member.

Usually, Chuck is the one driving me crazy (in everyday life), but on loop 4 the roles were reversed. After the aid station at mile 72.5, I started getting a little wiggy about getting off course again. I kept saying, “I know we’re on the wrong course…this is what I did last time.” I would suddenly stop running and turn around as if looking behind me might help me figure out where we were … in the pitch dark in the forest. As we ran along – following the signage on the path, to every runner that went by (for a total of 8 runners), I asked, “Is this the right way to the Park Road aid station?” to which they all replied “Yes”  we were indeed on the right path. I, however, didn’t believe them. It was not until we spotted the previously missed arrow on the trail and I recognized where I made my wrong turn that I could feel sure that we were on the right path. Sure enough, we soon reached the Park Road aid station. What a relief.

At mile 80, I gave Chuck a break and picked up my husband Mark, my 2nd pacer. Mark was fresh (at 4 am fresh?), and he kept me on a nice pace. Traded Mark for Chuck again at the next aid station. I ran into a bit of a rough patch here as I had been running in the dark for about 11 hours now. I felt myself slowing down a bit, but I knew I couldn’t afford to slow down much since there was a 30-hour cutoff.

Around 7 am, a miracle happened…the sun came up. Around 90 miles, I felt a sudden burst of energy…and I started running again. We passed a couple of guys we had talked to earlier. One man was going for his 5th Rocky 100 finish…to be awarded his 500-mile “jacket.” As we passed him, he yelled encouragement at us, “Go for it … it’s all about the belt buckle!” We were inspired to run on.

At mile 93 or 94, I started slowing down again, and by this time, my eyes were burning. I wasn’t really sleepy, but my eyes were dry and tired from staying open for so long. At least they didn’t hurt…because there were many other parts that were beginning to hurt. Namely my feet. Imagine that. Every time I came down hard on a root, I felt a shock wave shooting through my brain. Youch!

We made our way to the last aid station where I made my final pacer exchange…I picked up Mark to come in with me on the final leg of the journey. Again, fresh as a spring flower, Mark’s cheerful disposition gave me the needed energy to go the final 5 miles. I had told him on his earlier leg that he might want to be thinking of some motivational things to throw at me on this last leg because I might literally be on my “last leg.” He kept up the pace and didn’t allow me to slow down too much reminding me that we were actually going to do “this thing” and the faster we went, the faster we would be finished. That was dang good motivation. As much fun as I was having, it was time for this party to be over.

As we rounded the last turn, we could see the finish line. You think the finish line of a marathon looks good? Try imagining the finish line of a 100-mile race. Even without the fanfare of a marathon…It definitely ranks up there. No wild cheers from the crowd. No sprinting across the finish line. You just cross the finish line and you’re done. The race director handed me my belt buckle, and I hugged my crew. I just ran 100 miles.

 You never do anything alone. It’s possible that I could have run 100 miles without my crew…but I wouldn’t even want to try. There is one “regular” crew member who couldn’t be with us physically on this trip but who was there in spirit. How many times did we say WWLD…What would Lori do? We were a team, and my success is their success. I cannot begin to thank them enough.

Throughout the 100 miles, I thought of Nancy Lonnegan, my 10th grade English teacher…”If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs…” I do believe I kept my head.

But it was truly in the last 10 miles that I heard, “If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew to serve your turn long after they are gone…” and I said to them “Hold on!” It worked. I held on.

Running a 100 miles is obviously a serious physical challenge. However, the true test of an endurance event is often the mental aspect. Despite the good physical condition you’re in, 100 miles will test you psychologically in ways that can surpass the physical. The key is to “keep your head when all about you are losing theirs…”

Tomorrow morning I head out to Huntsville, TX, for my 2nd attempt at running 100 miles. My running has been good. I’ve been cross-training and strength training. I’ve remained uninjured. So everything should be in place for a successful event.

Enter Sunday night (yes, 6 days before my race)…a stomach virus. Yikes! This same thing happened the week before I was to run the Bear 100 back in September. I haven’t had a virus in 20 years, and now I have had 2 in the last 6 months.

It’s not uncommon to catch a bug as you begin to taper after months of hard training. And, I figure I’ve actually been pretty lucky because this is only the 3rd time it’s ever happened to me in all my years of racing.

As I was in the throes of “the bug,” I honestly thought to myself, “I am so grateful that this is happening now instead of the night before the race.” I’m better now, and I’ll continue to feel better as the race gets closer because I have chosen to focus on good health instead of illness. But I know that, once again, I was being tested.

We are all constantly being tested…physically, mentally, emotionally. Ed Foreman says, “All the water in the world can’t sink a ship unless it gets on the inside.” It’s all about what we allow to enter our minds.

My 10th grade English teacher, Nancy Lonnegan, used to make us memorize poems (among other things), and some lines from Rudyard Kipling’s “If” have stayed with me for the past 35 years…I can’t remember the whole thing, but what I do remember has often helped me keep my head when all about me are losing theirs:

“If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs…/If you can meet with triumph and disaster/And treat those two imposters just the same…/If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew/To serve your turn long after they are gone,/And so hold on when there is nothing in you/Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on’/If you can fill the unforgiving minute/With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run/Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it…”

This weekend I will be tested. My goal is to keep my head when all about me are losing theirs…