Her name was La Misión, blue eyes, blonde hair and 26,000 ft of gain.
Here's a special wave picture that shows you how much fun I had! Luckily, the course isn't very high in terms of elevation, so a weak lung'd normal like me can still participate and have a nice time in the mountains.
Some videos of the route!
First summit. Hail and wind.
Last summit. Sun and wind.
After 27 hours and blah blah blah minutes, I finished 5th overall! It was a hoot!
Truly, it was a great time and I'm very happy with the result. I may or may not choose to get drunk in a couple of days and write a special story about it.
I moved out of a nice downtown apartment into a room in a family's cabin near the university where I work. The change has been good. I don't have internet at home anymore, so...I've had to adjust to not constantly soaking in the stagnant digital bathwater of the Innerwet. Infurpet. Analsweat.
You'll simply have to find it in your beautiful, muscular, throbbing, proud, shining, inviting, true, wide-open, close-hewed, wickedly delicious Heart to forgive me, True Believer.
Now, I live about 50 meter from the university's gravel track and the gym. The result was my biggest/bestest training week of the year: 2 hours of squat thrusts and 43:00 minutes of juggling practice.
A rare day that the track isn't covered in couples jogging in the inside lane in the wrong direction, dogs chasing runners, young mothers pushing strollers and people stretching in the middle of track. I have attempted 400m workouts with all of those things going on at the same time. Because I'm an asshole like that.
I raced another 4K at the university a week after the 50 miler. 2nd overall. My buddy, who works in the gym, beat me. He's a mid-16:00 5k'er and I'm a drunk, so...I didn't feel too torn up about my loss.
I raced/waddled 50K a couple weeks ago. Daniel and Max beat me, which I was more than happy about. The race, in terms of the location, was a pair of redlipsticked lips puckering up for a greedy kiss. The race, in terms of organization, was rolling over in bed to discover your last-night lady friend is twice your size and twice as hairy...in terms of penis.
I have two weeks until my first 100-mile, jogorgy. Boss walkin' is what I do, baby.
This is a post I've been working on for several months. This is a topic under-researched and woefully misunderstood.
It's important to recover after racing. This is something we all know. However, just HOW does one best go about recovering? What does it feel like to recover correctly? ...Incorrectly?
For me, the biggest problems have been:
-Confidence: The confidence necessary to take a recovery day and truly relax and let myself "be" within that day. No worries about training.
-Calm: I love running and the physical exertion that it demands. It's difficult for me to feel comfortable throughout the day without a bit of that familiar, cherished fatigue in my legs, etc.
etc?!!? oh god.
So, I've developed a sure-fire, one-step strategy to correctly recovering after a race.
It seems like race names are getting longer and longer. Surely, the title of "The North Face Chile Endurance Challenge" isn't helped by the company's ridiculous three-word name, but I can't help but feel that the "endurance challenge" part is just totally redundant and dumb. You could just say "The North Face 80K Run" and make the whole thing more concise and more informative.
What the fuck is an "endurance challenge" anyway?
...reading my stupidly long blog posts!! HA!!
Let's keep it short.
Finished 9th/93, a bit over 10 hours of motion and 13,000ft. of gain.
Ended the race feeling really very good. I said hello to Mike Foote who won in 8:23ish and Ashley Arnold who won in 9:25ish. She complimented my pink/yellow/blue trucker hat and so I gave it to her as a sweat-encrusted memento from her Chile trip. Every time she wears it, she'll longingly think of the beer-bloated creep she met in South America.
I feel fine legs-wise, but I'm still going to stick to the gym for a few days. The week before the race, I felt a marked decline in my running stoke. A few days of pouring sweat onto the stationary bike should get me hungry for the mountains again by Friday.
Daniel had a much better run, placing 5th in the 50k about 10 minutes behind the winner. Cold crushin'.
Upcoming:
Ruta del Condor 50K in November.
La Misión 100 in December.
With one of the wilder expressions I'm familiar with as the title of this post and more than my fair share of bourbon doing whatever magical things it does in my stomach, I regret to inform you, True Believer, that this post is not especially interesting.
For some reason the photo uploading feature on Blogger is not working for me and my browser, right now. I don't know why. I don't know anything.
For instance, at this very moment you could be gazing upon a photo of me hang-gliding from the back of the world's largest naked-lady-human pyramid. I set a world record!
...but you don't get to see that photo, because Blogger is a seedy, porno-theater-district of a website, where people collectively open their trench coats and feverishly masturbate in front of one other. The irony, of course, is that we're each opening our individual trench coat to another trench coat-opener who, horribly, is facing towards yet another trench coat-opener and so on and so on, ad infinitum.
It's like an M.C. Escher drawing crossed with an M.C. Cock n' Roll Will Never Die! rap song. Don't bother searching for a song by M.C. Cock n' Roll Will Never Die! because he/she/it is not real. I just made he/she/it up. Just now! Poof!
...consider yourself on the losing, confused end of the open trench coat deal. Sorry, True Believer!
Thanks "mucho" to this guy and this guy for getting me to sign up for something so painful and silly!
NOTE:
It's when I re-read posts like this the next morning that I remember why I made a pledge to myself to post only photos with captions and no blocks of text.
A lot of people make the "running is my addiction!" or "running is my drug!" analogy. It's a funny correlation to draw, though. I've found myself dwelling on it, lately. I dunno why. I dunno why I do anything.
Given my past, I thought...Hey! Let's make a totally stupid blog post out of this idea that running is also like having a chemical addiction!! The parallels might BLOW MINDS!!!
You can play along at home, True Believer! Let's get going!!
In each sentence, choose "running" or "doing shitloads of drugs" to complete the sentence. Every correct answer is a point, most points wins!
READY? GO!!!!!
1.) I've called in "sick" to work or taken a vacation day because of running/doing shitloads of drugs.
(Not often, but...it's happened.)
2.) I've arrived late and a little out of sorts for various functions because I was running/doing shitloads of drugs beforehand.
5.) Sometimes I worry that I'm not bringing as much energy and concentration to other important parts of my life because of my running/doing shitloads of drugs.
34.) Occasionally, I feel like I can barely sweat out another hour at my job because I'm thinking about running/doing shitloads of drugs.
53.2 c ) I spend most of my time at work thinking about running/doing shitloads of drugs and even sneaking little breaks for running/doing shitloads of drugs.
69.) I've had people ask me "Hey, are you doing OK today?" because I arrived to work or a social function totally wiped-out after running/doing shitloads of drugs.
420.) I have turned down fun invitations from friends, spending time with loved ones and even casual sex in order to have more time for running/doing shitloads of drugs. The casual sex thing is really sad, hahaha, but true!
8==> When life hands me some shit, running/doing shitloads of drugs helps me deal with it.
( . )( . ) When life hands me some awesomeness, running/doing shitloads of drugs is my way of celebrating!
3.) I find it difficult to totally relate to people who aren't also into running/doing shitloads of drugs.
1.) I can't imagine getting through life without running/doing shitloads of drugs.
1.) I need running/doing shitloads of drugs to help me feel like "me."
1%) I've picked myself up off of the floor because of running/doing shitloads of drugs and then...running/doing shitloads of drugs was the first thing I wanted to do!
666.) I've puked because of running/doing shitloads of drugs!
23.) I've gotten laid because of running/doing shitloads of drugs!
Hahahha, ok ok. #23 is a freebie. No one has gotten laid because of running! Heehee!
I hope you got the Big Joke here, True Believer. I just want you to feel good!
Whether you're doing shitloads of drugs AND/OR running, I hope that it's worth it for ya! I mean, c'mon...life's 2 SHORT to be fuckin' around!
If you ever visit Santiago, be sure to visit El Persa. It's about 10 square blocks of pure random garage sale goodness. I went a few weeks ago and found some old Chilean national sports magazines from the 50's. I really liked'em for whatever reason. I only included the pics of running or cycling because I like those sports but I don't give a fat fuck about futbol.
Cycling comp, April '55
Great.
Suffering. Mucho.
Not running/endurance sports related, but awesome nonetheless.
New record for "400m run by man with the smallest head in the world." That guy set a lot of records.
Ladies running the annual "Chase your husband out of the whorehouse" Fun Run.
All aboard, sailor.
This velodrome still exists in the city just north of me. Nothing says "commitment" like high-speed cycling over pavement. This photo was taken before telephoto lenses arrived in Chile, apparently.
And who was on the cover?? Hahaha, your horse looks like a drag queen, fool. Fuck dictatorships.
This first video is me, excitedly peering up the rocky gown of La Teta de la Monja ("the Nun's Breast"). I peeked so hard I could hardly pull on my jogging skort! Yes, True Believer, I went back to the mountains this weekend to "train" myself raw! I guess the hairy palms will forgo the need to bring gloves with me! Hahaha, I'll never break the "habit!" HAHAHA! NUN JOKES! FUCK THE (AFTER)WORLD!
In this picture from 3 weeks ago, you can see La Teta on the far right side of the ridge. On a real note, this day was intended for exploring that ridge line as part my plan for the summer. I want to connect Parque Inglés, Altos de Lircay and Tricahue (the 3 national parks in my region) with one mega long run. So, I'm trying to piece together the info on the different legs of the journey. Little did I know that this particular "leg" would lead me to a warm, soft, slightly fuzzy...um... "day" of "training" that was wholly enjoyable!
Or should I say "holy enjoyable?!?!?!" AHAHHAHA!! THERE I GO AGAIN WITH THE NUN JOKES! SOMEBODY STOP ME!!!
I seriously have no idea what I'm doing with " " anymore. None. I've lost my mind.
Yeah, but it was a great two days of mountain running.
Before I go, I just want to wish all of you the very best in life. You deserve it, True Believer. You do.
Woof. I've really had quite a few cocktails this evening. "How many?" you might be asking.
It's NUNYA BUSINESS! AHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!! I CAN'T BE STOPPED!!!
That which feels to the body as though it bringeth death, oft bringeth life to the soul. ...the converse is also true, unfortunately. Whoa! Chew on that one!
Found this at the summit of my local hill. All important life moments should be revealed on a mountain top. I think it'd make everything more...kept in perspective. Small things, like, did you get accepted into your university? Well, you'll obviously need to take the unopened letter to a mountain before opening and reading the answer. Marriage proposals? Hired? Fired? Judge's verdict on DUI? Either way, you're on top of damn mountain.
Hieroglyph of our tribe.
Mountain guide. He says "you're pretty fast on foot!" thanks, real mountain man! you've just up'd my stoke to 10!
self-timer photo = real reminder that you are ultimately alone in the world. until you upload the photo to your blog...
snowmward bound. i wish i was... oh, i had too much hillbilly cider. ohhh...
you can see people in this picture if you zoooooom in.
horrible beast. first one i've seen in town and not up in the mountains. God has forsaken your kind! Be gone! Fucking monster!
Here's the explanation for my photo captions: horn-fulls of chicha booze.
Make every day a tiny miracle in a bird's nest cradled in the highest branch of the most golden tree,
-Pat.
sometimes i listen to old country music and i think "hey, wow, they used to drink wine. not just whiskey!" and then i'll be like "hey, wow, and tequila." and then like "hey wow beer, too!" and then i realize "oh yeah...they were all drunks." and then i realize "hey wow, i'm drunk!" and then i realize that i've been horseback for about 2 days without rest and it's the year 1880.
ran in a local 5k yesterday. 18:38 on a funky course (meaning it had 1k of uphill). i dunno. i was disappointed not by the time, but that 3rd place was never more than 5 seconds ahead of me and i couldn't pass him. it was all mental, bro. i just wasn't feelin' the flow and i couldn't stay calm and bear down.
what? me worry (about a fanny pack)?
hey! there's one of my students getting 2nd in her age group. atta girl, Evelyn! la rompiste!
"she's my cherry pie! put a smile on yer face! 10 miles wide!" ...nah, just kidding. it was military jams.
This week I indulged in the novelty of novelties: Running with other people.
It was quite a thrill and something I had almost wholly forgotten about over the past 5 months...
On Thursday, the university where I work held a 4K cross country race around the campus. In traditional Chilean racing-style, the lead pack went out at a suicidal pace and completely blew apart in about 400 meters. It was twice as funny as it sounds. About 1K in, I passed the remainder of the guys still hanging on and eventually won overall. I have no idea what time might have been because (in true Chilean race fashion), there was no count down or "gun" to signal the start of the race...we just sort of milled around until people got antsy and started running. There was no timing. I didn't have a watch. It was just...whoever crossed the finish line first won. I was only minimally slowed by the stray dogs constantly underfoot.
On Friday, I went to Santiago to meet up with Daniel and the awesomely supportive Vanessa early on Saturday morning for the K42 race in Cajón del Maipo. The race featured about 6,000ft+ in a 13 mile up-and-down course. I wrote a long race report but instead I'll break down into bulleted points.
-I slept for two hours the night before.
-I vomited white foam after just 10k. I had not eaten any white foam that morning. Huh.
-Daniel gave me some rice cakes with Marmite on them.
-I drank some Gatorade.
-I held a tiny Chilean flag.
-I fell during the descent twice.
-I saw a tiny pure-bred Cocker Spaniel puppy in the mountains twice.
-I learned that I really like Marmite and I spent $14 on an imported jar of that hideous tar.
4th place overall, 5:20:00. Yeesh. 1st place came in around 4:15:00 and was immediately whisked off to a clinic in an ambulance. So...I think he really wanted it quite a bit more than I did. It was a tough day for everyone, although Daniel finished just a couple spots back of me looking very relaxed and fresh. The 80K in October ought to suit him pretty well.
Pictures!
Laguna de Aculeo, Cajón de Maipo
The little bump up there was roughly the half-way point.
Daniel approaching the 21k turnaround.
Sunday morning brunch. Marmite was involved.
I hope that everyone in the world is doing as well as they possibly can be doing given their situation in life!
Proceed with your hell-giving! Those unforgivable cretins surely deserve it!
Well, gosh. It's been awhile, True Believer. I didn't want you to think that I had packed it up and gone "home" (in the sense of quitting running). However, I did pack it up and go home...in the sense that I went to the U.S. for the first time in a year to visit my family. I have to tell you: If you haven't ever lived abroad for an extended period and then gone back to the States...my friend, you just don't know what pleasures await!! The U.S.A. is the best place I've ever gone on vacation in my life. The restaurants are numerous, cheap and delicious. The service is unparalleled. The cars topless. The drink options bottomless. The women are frequently both. And above all else, the people are extremely friendly and beautiful.
My folks threw a neighborhood party and my uncle (who makes homemade champagne) brought a double magnum bottle. It's like...3 liters, I believe. It was gone in 20 minutes.
And afterwards, this is how I looked...Celeste is a good friend and a lovely crutch. My brother looks like he's taking things well...
Sadly, I had to return to Chile after two weeks...here's a photo I took on the airplane that expresses how upset I was. Ha.
In a matter of days, I was back in the Andes! "Training." In the bushes. Occasionally, I'd jump out and "train" in view of some campers, but usually I'm content to just "train" by myself, sweating, panting and sometimes softly crying...
Volcán Descabezado...congelado...haha.
Last weekend, I went to Santiago to go running and see my friend! Here I am, Saturday morning, looking out towards Cerro Manquehue. If you see the hill closest to me, on the left-hand side and then follow it to the right, you'll notice the barest nipple of a distant peak. That was my destination.
After a few miles through the city, I began the first climb to Cerro Carbón. Here's a nice photo of a different type of running going on at the same time I was "running" in the hills. There were quite a few fit young Chilean ladies racing down there. I hoped they could see me "training" up above them!
After a few hours, I finally landed on the summit of Manquehue. Here's a shot looking back towards where I started. That little hill in the middle of the photo is the same hill that was closest to my coffee mug in the coffee photo.
When I got home I immediately posted on the Runner's World forum: "Dear Running Doc: What ever shall I eat and drink after a 20 minute treadmill speed walk?!"
This is what he said, seriously:
Old running shorts? Gone. New discotech outfit? Found.
Putting my new shorts to use at the club, advertising the goods and the new clean-cut look.
If you've made it this far, give yourself a pat on the back! You are a champion! But you know...not like theseguys.
Chile race season for me starts up next Saturday with a mountain marathon. I'll hopefully have interesting news to report on that. The 50 miler is in October and I'm trying like hell to get the last week of the semester off so I can do a 100 miler in Argentina that looks insane. La Misión, it's called.
Hope all is well with you and yours, True Believer.
Keep giving all the pricks swift kicks and the chicks stiff pricks.
