Sawtooth Relay--aka learn to breathe at higher altitudes.

I've been semi-consistently running for the past five months now. I consider myself *fairly* in shape. But nothing, I repeat NOTHING could have prepared me for the Sawtooth Relay this weekend.

The Sawtooth Relay is a run starting in Stanley, Idaho which goes to Sun Valley (Ketchum), Idaho. It's roughly 62 miles. There are six people per team, and each person runs approximately two 5-6 mile legs. The goal is to get to Sun Valley in less than 12 hours, I suppose. There are all sorts of crazy people that participate in this race, including hard-core people who are actually trying to win, but for the most part, it's just an excuse to run with friends and see some great scenery.

The awesome part about this: the race starts at 5:00 a.m. Some people start even earlier, depending on how long they think it will take their team to complete the race. So if you start at 5:00 (which our team did), you have to be at the start line by 4:15. Which means you have to be awake even earlier than that. F. That.

Even better: we decided to camp the night before. In a tent. Out in nature. Did I mention that I had never been camping before? Oh yeah--I've never been camping before. I've done things that I think may be considered camping, but as far as staying overnight in a tent in a sleeping bag...no. Fuck no. I do not like nature. I like to look at nature; I like to take pictures of nature. I do not want to be out IN nature. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. So we drove up Friday evening, set up camp and did what I suppose are considered camping things: grilled hamburgers (in my case, vegan burgers) in a fire, made s'mores, drank beer (well, I drank beer), etc. When we were setting up camp, due to my inexperience, when I asked what I could do to help, I was told to go make friends. That's right. My job was to walk around the campsite and make friends with people. Sweet. I could totally do that. I happened to make friends with a group from the Air Force running in the relay. They had such fun nicknames as "Nader" and "Knuckles." Very nice group of people, who were at nearly every exchange on the run.

Neither here nor there. Here are some photos from the campsite. I will give nature this: I've never seen anything quite so magnificently beautiful.











See? Stunningly beautiful. That's about where my love of nature ends.

We finally went to bed I'm guessing around 11. This being my first time really sleeping in a sleeping bag in a tent, I was not sure what to expect.

1. It was 18 degrees that night. 18. That is not a typo. FUCK that.

2. Apparently the side of the tent gets "moist" with condensation. So when I wake up and roll over, I get a face-full of wet tent side. SICK.

3. I cannot sleep in tiny sleeping bags. As someone who suffers from severe claustrophobia, I about lost my shit. I woke up almost every hour in a complete panic because I could not move. LAME.

4. Even with a foam pad underneath, ground = not comfortable.

I guess the good thing was that we had to be awake at 3:30 in the morning. So my stint with sleeping in nature really only lasted four hours. Still, that was four hours of hell. I was afraid to go pee because the bathrooms were so far away, so of course I had to pee the entire time (why, body? WHY?). I thought I would get eaten by a cougar or something. It's Idaho. Stranger things have happened.

So let's all flash forward to 5:00 a.m. and the start of the race. It's cold. We're all tired. But we're pretty stoked. Nikky ran our first leg and I ran the second. You'd think as a seasoned distance runner, I would be smart when it comes to putting on the proper clothing for running a race. I'll give myself props for having the wicking shirt on, but I lose some serious cred for having my hooded sweatshirt on. Granted, it was only 35 degrees when I started running, by the second mile, I was sweating balls. And I couldn't take off the sweatshirt because I had this damn reflective vest on with my number. Rules, rules, rules. Here's a pic of said reflective vest:



I finished my first leg, which was 5.8 miles, in 1:01. Not too bad, but I'm sure I could have gone faster if I had not been swimming in my own sweat for an hour. As soon as I crossed the exchange point, I started stripping off all my clothes. By the time I got to the porta-potty, I was down to my spandex shorts and sports bra. And it was still only 42 degrees outside. Sarah = smartest person alive. I also got a rash on the side of my neck from where the sweatshirt rubbed against my skin. I so lose more points for that.

Sally ran our third leg, Kent ran our fourth leg, Katie ran our fifth leg and Jake ran the summit and the last leg. Here are some photos from the race:









The sixth leg, which belonged to Jake, was this awesome 1400 foot hill climb up "Galena Summit." I'd like to call this death. Just DRIVING up this hill made me tired. I have no idea how Jake did it, or how he did it so quickly, but big kudos to this kid.



Here are some pictures from the top of the summit, and Katie and I being total dorks.







After the summit, the next six legs are pretty much a cake-walk downhill. Please enjoy the following pictures (in case you couldn't tell, this is a blog primarily dominated by photos).





I ran my second leg, which was a little over five miles, in 49 minutes. This is slightly closer to my actual mileage pace. I would have gone faster (and not had to walk part of it) had it not been for the huge difference in between Boise and Stanley. No kidding. I didn't think that elevation would make that big of a difference on my ability to breathe but oh my dear God, was I wrong. I thought my lungs were going to get coughed up and I would trip and them and probably tear my knee again. I'll keep this in mind for when I decide to hike to Base Camp at Mt. Everest.

Apparently while I was running, a group of women, who had stopped on the side of the road to cheer on their teammate, asked me how I was doing. I whined that all I wanted was a beer. And don't you know, one of those women met me at the exchange with a PBR. I almost cried. I gave her a hug. It was truly a touching moment.



We finished the entire relay in under 10 hours, which is super awesome. There was a fun little picnic at the end where I got a t-shirt, a medal and free beer. I also made friends with a volunteer who is from Boise. Because I'm one of those people that just loves making friends. Overall, I had a fantastic time, and I'm kind of bummed I don't get to run it again next year, but I definitely think this is a race I will keep up with, even if I move away from Idaho.

Veganism: Day...oh Fuck it...

So I might as well just start the 60-day thing over again. I had a tri-tip sandwich while down in Humboldt County. Oh, and then I had coconut-crusted chicken strips at the Reef. And we had Mother's Day brunch at Berryhill, and there is no point in trying to resist Berryhill Bacon. Not to mention all the pizza I've been eating lately.

I want to know if there are any vegan pot smokers out there. Because quite frankly, I'm trying to imagine a world where you smoke weed and DON'T eat meat or cheese or any dairy for that matter. I mean, who the fuck craves carrots when they're high? Cucumbers? Apples? You're full of shit. If it's mind over matter, I'm guessing I'm just a weak individual. So I'll try the whole vegan thing again soon. I've become quite fond of vegan burgers and vegan hot dogs. And I love the Whole Soy yogurt. It is amazing.

On a completely unrelated note, I just returned from Humboldt County where I ran the Avenue of the Giants half marathon, much against the advice of my orthopedic surgeon. I actually had a fairly decent time, all things considered (in addition to the knee-thing, I caught "the hippie spore" which is what I refer to any sort of illness caught whilst in Humboldt County), and only had a minute time added to my Salt Lake half. Here are a few pictures from beautiful Northern California. Occasionally I miss it, obviously:







And occasionally, I do not miss it or its inhabitants:



Marianne ran her half in record time (2:10), which I attribute to the fact that she is low to the ground and thus able to move faster than me. :) But I'm so lucky to have such an amazing friend who enjoys embarking on these half marathon adventures with me. Here is our before picture:



And here is our after picture:



I know it LOOKS like I have camel toe, but I swear-to-God, that's just the way the pants are cut. I was wearing spandex underneath for shit's sake; there is NO WAY I could have had camel toe.

I also go to see my amazing little sister perform with her band, Straightjacket Stiptease. I'm completely in awe over her awesomeness:



And although I think we look nothing alike, apparently others think we do:



So continuing on my rant, today was officially the WORST DAY EVER. Chances are good I failed my Accounting 308 final, which means I have to take the class again. I swear I'm not an idiot; this shit is just so incredibly fucking BORING. Accounting for governmental and not-for-profit agencies? I should have just told the professor that a) due to certain extracurricular activities, there's no way the government would hire me; and b) who the fuck wants to work for a not-for-profit? I may be slightly altruistic when it comes to donating designer handbags to the Idaho Youth Ranch, but there is no FUCKING way I am working for a not-for-profit.

You may be thinking, "so, you failed a class, there are worse things, yeah"? YEAH, bitch, there are. Like blowing out your knee AGAIN while playing a tennis match that you are clearly dominating, and then having to forfeit because every time you try to run, your knee pops out of place.

FML.

I've cried a lot tonight, which is so stupid because I never cry, but I'd like to thank Vickie for talking to me on the phone while I had a complete and total breakdown, and Nicole for bringing me Blue Cow and listening to what I'm sure was an entirely incomprehensible conversation due to the pain pill I took with my vodka tonic(s). I love you both dearly (even though I just met Nicole, she is fucking awesome).

I'll keep you all posted on the "vegan" thing. BALLS. I'm such a fucking asshole.

Salt Lake City Half Marathon

So I have been running half marathons for almost two years now. I've never really taken training that seriously because, really, the thought of running 13 miles for fun in preparation for running 13 miles in a race is, well, fucking insane. Usually I would get up to 7 or 8 and call it good. I'd finish the race in a reasonable amount of time (well, reasonable for someone who hates running, not so reasonable if you're Jillian Michels) and vow never to run again, only to be sucked back in a few months later in an effort to lose a ton of weight.

This year I told myself I was going to run Robie Creek, and I was actually going to adequately prepare for it. If you're unfamiliar with Robie Creek, it's sale's pitch is "the toughest half in the northwest." They're not fucking around, either. It's essentially a 13.1 mile hill climb, culminating with what I'm sure are a ton of dead people at the top of the summit. When it became blatantly clear that me, myself and my knees that we are so not cut out for such a demanding task, I registered for the Salt Lake City half marathon. If Robie Creek is a vertical climb, Salt Lake was the exact inverse: a downhill sprint. YES! Right up my alley. Plus, we had actually been running distances for several weeks leading up to this race, so I was feeling very good.

So I wrangled up some friends, and we took a road trip down to Salt Lake to run. Katie and I ran the half and Tessa and Kristin ran the 5K.





First off, I love road trips. I especially love road trips when you have a ton of people who are equally as judgmental, hilarious and full of wit like you are. We had a fantastic time on the way down to Salt Lake, and I'm going to laugh uncontrollably every time I hear the word "algorithm."





Katie and I got up at the butt-crack of dawn (wait, it may have even been BEFORE the butt-crack of dawn) to catch the public transportation to the start of the race at the University of Utah.



A) I hate public transportation and B) I hate it even more when bitches get on the train when there is CLEARLY no room and force me to get closer than necessary to the smelly dude standing a mere millimeter away from me. I wanted to bitch-slap one of the really, really hard.

So Katie and I ran this race, and I have to say, for the first half of it, I was feeling amazing. We were cruising along at what can only be described as a break-neck pace, and I was fine until I hit mile 9 and started to feel the pain in my left leg that I was hoping would go away before the race. I'm fairly certain I tweaked my sciatica a few weeks ago, but me being me, I just tried to ignore it. Around mile 11, the pain became almost unbearable, and I started to hobble myself on the side of the road. By mile 12.5, I decided I had had enough of this shit and sprinted the rest of the race. The pain wasn't going to get any better, so I might as well run the shit out of it.

I finished the race in 2:20, which is almost 20 minutes faster than I finished the last half marathon I did. I was so completely elated, I almost forgot about all the pain I was in.

Another great thing about half marathons is you get a medal at the end of it.



We drove back to Boise that same day, and I vowed to finish my next half marathon (Avenue of the Giants on May 2nd!) in 2:15.

That was until I injured my knee last night in my indoor soccer game. Soccer is fun because you get out all this pent up aggression; soccer is not fun when you get hurt. I'd prefer to be the one doing the hurting. I'm really, really hoping I didn't tear my ACL again because the tennis season just started, and I was so, so excited about this race coming up. :(

Anyway, stay posted! I go to the Ortho tomorrow to find out if I'm screwed.

This is the saddest day of my life....

I'd always heard that exercising leads to decreased body mass. I was hoping the majority of my "lost mass" would come from my hips, thighs and butt. I mean, what woman DOESN'T want these areas to be smaller? We can't all look like Angelina Jolie.

Alas. That is in fact NOT where the majority of my mass has decreased.

Half-marathon training? I'm done with you. I'm done with you until you give me my "C-bordering-on-D" cup boobs back!

Victoria's Secret informed me today that my boobs are now "B-bordering-on-C" cup. NO! No, no, no!

I am promptly eating a pint of Ben & Jerry's.