Sunday, August 25, 2019

Mount Madonna Misery and Mourning

Most of the time I write posts about how Duke has left me for the trail. I try to find something funny or poignant to focus on as I highlight the fact the my husband is always out running while I'm at home entertaining myself with something mundane like parenting. Ironically I now found myself writing posts about my adventures and not his. There is a reason for this sudden change in behavior but that is another long post. This time around I am again writing about my latest escapade while out in the woods.

At this point I guess I need to officially announce that I am signed up for Skyline to the Sea trail marathon on October 6. This just happens to be my birthday. I know what you are thinking, "Martha, that is a horrible gift to give yourself. That's something only an idiot would do." Well, you're not too far off except that idiot status is reserved for those people who run ultra marathons. Like Duke. I am most definitely not in that category! But, being that I do have to get through this marathon without killing myself, I do need to train. Which brings me back to my escapades last weekend.

Actually, last weekend wasn't all fun. It started out that way. This particular race has the option of camping out at the race start in the lovely redwoods of Mount Madonna County Park. I signed us up for two nights of camping/partying and a nice long training run/race of 25k in the middle of the party. Duke was NOT going to run this race but decided he should probably start paying me back for all the times I crewed him. Again, a turn of events that I will have to explain in more detail in another post. As I was packing things up at home, I realized that I was mumbling to myself about a drop bag. I shook my head an grumbled to Duke that I couldn't believe I was talking about my own stupid drop bag and not his. He had the smarts not to make a comment back.

Friday morning I packed the car by 10 am and took off with Kim to the campground. Kim helped me set up camp and the we then headed back to town (only an hour away) where I went to a work thing and then picked up Duke to head back to the park. Friday night was fun, sitting around the camp fire, getting to know people. We all went to bed at a reasonable time as we were running in the morning. In the middle of the night I realized that I was very glad that I had put the rain fly on the tent as the fog was collecting on the trees and dripping on us like heavy slow rain. I knew that this would make for a cool race day and I was grateful as the heat makes running impossible for me.

Getting ready

It was COLD!

Look at those magnificent redwoods!


That morning as I was preparing myself mentally for the longest run I have attempted in my life, to date, I was texting with a dear friend out on the Cheyenne River Sioux Reservation. I mentioned that I would be running that morning. He wished me luck and said that his two relatives who run often express that running is prayer, that it is carrying the love and prayers of the People. I knew that as per usual, I would open sacred space as I started to run and send prayers through the earth for all my relatives. ("All my relatives" is a term that Native Americans use to refer all of Creation, the two leggeds, the four leggeds, the winged ones, Mother Earth, etc.)

The first four miles were mostly downhill and I felt great so I went faster than I normally would. As I was "flying" down the trail, I was talking to the trees and was so happy to be out there. At one point it occurred to me that maybe I might have blown out my quads from going too fast downhill. I didn't think much about it and started up the first big climb. At the second aid station, about 8 miles in, I was feeling a little extra tired and my stomach was a little touchy. Luckily they had ginger ale! I drank two cups of that, ate a waffle and started down the trail again definitely feeling a bit better. But then the next 1000 ft of climbing came and by mile 10 my legs felt worse than they had after I had gone 14 miles a few weeks before. I knew something was off. And then my left knee and hip started to scream at me.



Before I was aware that I blew out my quads.


By this time, I started to realize that the first loop was longer than the advertised 17k and I began to wonder if I was going to be able to finish the second 8k loop. About a 1/2 mile from the start/finish/aid station, I ran over the top of an owl feather. Now owl means many different things to different cultures. For me, it can mean healing and wisdom, but it can also mean death. I knew when I bent down to pick it up that my very dear friend and elder had passed away. I didn't have proof but I knew in my heart that she was gone. I had been waiting for the feather since the middle of the week as I knew she was close to passing over. Just after I started to run again I ran over another one! I knew it was a confirmation. By the time Duke saw me I was half in tears from physical and emotional pain.

Duke walked me into the aid station and said he wasn't sure that it was an owl feather. It didn't matter as I knew in my heart that she had passed. I complained to Duke that I was in a lot of pain in my knee and hip and that I wasn't sure I could finish. Shrina, one of the coordinators, told Duke to run with me for the last 8k. I said to Duke that if she really was gone, she wouldn't want me to quit because of her. I took some Aleve, drank some ginger beer, ate, swallowed some electrolyte capsules, and started down the trail with Duke following me. Good thing he was, I tried to go down the clearly marked path "wrong way runners"!

The next 8k had me "running' 19 minute miles. Every time I tried to run I would say "ow, ow, ow" when I landed on my left leg. Duke didn't say a word about my complaining, he just kept his own conversation going with me. I think he commented on how beautiful the trail was but honestly, I really can't remember what we talked about. I finished 2nd to last. It took me an hour longer than expected.

After I had recovered, I went to thank Shrina for her support. She asked me if I knew for sure if my friend had passed. I said I needed to get on Facebook to get confirmation and that the coverage was too spotty at the campground. She pointed to a spot and said that they had found coverage right there. I got online and sure enough, the first thing to come up was that she had died. Not the best way to end a race.

I would like to say that I felt very triumphant at having run my longest course to date. But truly, I was in pain and was blown away by everything that had happened. I look back on it and I realize that I was carrying the prayers for both my elder and her husband (who is also a very dear friend of mine). Even as I write this I find that I can't find the words to express how I feel about the experience. But I will say this, I don't regret a minute of the weekend. The trails, the sacred trees, the people I met, and the support that was given was beautiful. It's pretty much why Duke and I love this community so much.

In Memory of Jacquie Lyons
You are truly back with your own kind, The Angels


Jacquie Lyons

Ken Lyons

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