My daughter, Jenna, and I ran the Warrior Dash yesterday.  It was really fun, but I will admit that some of the obstacles intimidated me.  Rope climbing vertically and horizontally, fire, barbed wire (the original Glidden wire invented in 1874, our last name), and a pool of mud at the very end.  Jenna and I work pink t-shirts with “mudder” and “dudder” printed on the back, pink hair, and pink swim arm floaties.  We got many comments.  At the start, we carried pink swim noodle. 

In the 3mi hilly, soft dirt race, there were 13 obstacles which ranged from easy to pretty intimidating.  I’ve never climbed up a wall with a rope and put a leg over the 6″ wide wall top to make it precariously over to the other side, only to climb down on thin 2 by 4 toe holds to the bottom.  By the time I got the hang of it, we were done and on to the next obstacle.  At the end was a 30′ long 3-4′ deep pool of mud. Jenna and I entertained the crowd by backstroking in our swimmies and flinging mud at eachother.

Mud Models

Then, we moved on to the fire hoses for cleanup.  Masses of people were gathered to withstand the impact of hard and cold water.  It hurt!  But we were so disgusting, we felt compelled to do this before getting in the car.

Next we exchanged our timing chip for free beer.  It was a great event only to be ruined by the traffic.  We waited 1hr 20min to get in and two hours to get out.  Too bad we won’t be doing this again next year.  It’s not worth it and the poor people coming in as we were leaving- longer, unmoving lines of traffic with much longer waits.  I heard that some people waited 3hrs to get in only to have missed the last wave.

The best part was doing this event with Jenna.  She’s a great support and these activities deepen the affinity we feel for eachother.  Thank you, Jenna-Henna.  We make the best team.  And this is just a small window into the experience we will have climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro.

Mt. Kili won't kill us!

I had so much fun at the Atomic Man Duathlon.  It’s a 2.5minrun, a 9mi bike, and a 2.5mi run. It was so beautiful and the weather was perfect.  The bike is very short, but very hilly.  Thanks to everyone who competed and made a special day for me.

With My Award

As it happens, I won my race.  But here is the really cool thing.  Before the race, I was biking over to the transition area with all my stuff in a bag slung over my shoulder. I realize what a pain it is to do this because the bag kept sliding down off my shoulder and I had to continually re-position it.  I made a mental note to find a medium sized backpack that would handle my helmet, bike shoes, gloves etc.

So after awards were given out, a few raffle items were called out.  And I hear my name.  Normally raffle items are a bit on the cheap side, but not at Atomic Man.  I walk up to receive my gift and I am dazed to see that it is a medium sized backpack from REI.  It’s perfect!

Yes, I’m training now for a trek to the top of Mt. Kilimanjaro in Tanzania.  I like to say that I am “assaulting the summit” rather than trekking, but that may be a slight exaggeration.  On the other hand, it’s very motivating for me.

My daughter, Jenna, and my niece, Caroline, and I are paid up and hot on the training trail.  It’ll be six days, an altitude above 19,000ft, and long hours especially the summit day which starts at 1am and goes for 15hrs with temperatures in the 0 degree range.  I’m pretty fit and consider the brutal Bataan Death March as a training run.  Mostly, I am concerned for my weak spot- my feet!  My chiropractor is working with me to align my crooked hips and to work some magic with my feet.  Makes me hopeful.

I have no idea how this thing will go.  I have no idea what conditions will be.  What I do know is that this is the opportunity of a lifetime.  Who knows how long my body will allow me to perform at this level?  And more importantly, my daughter and I will never feel more of an affinity to each other as we do this together.  And Caroline?  A big goal for me is to get to know you better and be 100% generous with you.

The Bataan this year did not disappoint.  The scale of the event is impossible to absorb; the people, the mountains, the huge flag flying overhead as the sun rises in perfect skies, the flares released from parchutters, the jet flyover, and the bag pipes.  All of this converges to peak as the March begins.  It’s powerful and everyone including myself is excited and terrified.  It’s a tough event.  One of thing of note was the number of NM Bataan Survivors.  Five years ago, dozens were in attendance.  Last year, we had eight.  This year, only three.  Few Survivors remain for us to thank for our freedom.

So me and my Colonel Collins from the Army Corps of Engineers ran the first 7mi and then lugged up the 4 1/2mi hill.  It’s a moderate/steep incline and it just never ends.  Then we shared a burger at the halfway point.  We ran downhill for some time enjoying the clear skies and acres of blooming yellow flowers.  The fatigue and sore feet/ankles/knees (choose your poison) sets in about now just in time for the “sand pit”, an uphill of very soft sand we really didn’t need at mile 20.  It’s a brutal and  every year, I forget how much.  Kinda’ like childbirth!

The finish is marked by enthusiastic fans.  None of this, of course, replicates the actual Bataan March 70 years ago.  Can you imagine 10 or more days of this without water, food, or medical aid?  And the threat of violence and murder every moment? I thanked two of the Survivors at the start of the event and simply wondered what those men witnessed.  An experience impossible to absorb.

It’s interesting how as the March gets closer, it takes on more meaning.  Most of you know that the Bataan March 70 years ago annihilated many of the soldiers from the US, the Philippines and other countries.  Nearly 90,000 soldiers began the this forced march and only slightly over half survived.  The Japanese brutally beat and arbitrarily massacred these Marchers who had no food, water, or medicines- as the say “No Mama, No Papa, No Uncle Sam”.  Many marched for 60-100 miles only to be rounded up into a prisoner-of-war camp (read death camp) to comfort and bury their friends over the next 3 years.

New Mexico had a inordinately high number of Marchers and that is why our state is so committed to this event.  When I started marching 5 years ago, there were dozens of Survivors.  Last year, there were eight.  Last year, it was my honor to March with a team from the Army Corps of Engineers where I serve as Honorary Commander.  We came in 3rd of 26 equivalent teams.  This year, it will be me and my Colonel.

It is a tough event- 26 miles in the sand and a  hike up a 4 1/2mi hill.  It is considered one of the toughest marathons in the country – and I am not a marathoner!  We run 15-16mi and hike the rest.  I say that we run when we can and walk when we have to.

Keep posted.  I’ll let you know how it goes.  Thanks for your good thoughts.

Okay, Ladies and Gentlemen.  This is it.  Today I do my last run before the Bataan Death March on Sunday.  I’ll do an easy hour just to remind my legs of their job in life.  The weather looks good.  Last year up the 4 1/2 mile hill, we experienced the stiffest wind I have ever seen in an athletic event.  All the marchers ahead of me were slanted into the wind.  Almost defying gravity.  This year should be calm, just maybe hot.

I’m excited, but very focused on the intensity of the event.  I am not a marathoner and Bataan is considered one of the toughest marathons in the country.  The way I look at it is, I say to myself “I have nothing better to do for the next 6 hours, so I might as well do this.”  Any thoughts you can suggest for me?  I’ll thank you.

Doesn’t this guy get it?

Squint to See!

It’s 25 degrees at night and 50 during the day- sometimes colder!  But I found this little guy inching along on my dirt trail.  All by himself, just enjoying the sun.  Not to rub it in, but I finally found someone even slower than me.  He was ahead for a bit, but he had a head start.

Three weeks ago, I went out for a run in training for the Bataan March.  It was a 4hr boogie- 3hrs 45min of run and 15min of walk/hike/rest.  The minute I took my first step, I was transformed.  I felt great, I wasn’t thinking about running, my legs were on their own to do their thing, I was just along for the ride. There were no thoughts of the route I was taking or how long it would take me.  It was just a run and it would become itself.  By hour 3, my feet hurt considerably, but I just kept running.  The last half hour really did hurt and I was anxious to get done, but the rest of me felt pleasantly used.  By the time I was done, I could hardly remember where I had been and how I got it done so quickly.

Last week, same thing, but this time just for 3hrs.  On the first step, I was aware of my legs.  My quads were there working.  Certainly, no pain or tiredness really, just there working.  I started to think about having biked a short while the day before and I remembered I had lifted legs two days before.  Then, my  mind slid lazily over to where I was headed- which road, which dirt, which valley.  I saw it in chunks of time and stretches of distance.  Then, I noticed that I was thinking these things and concluded it was a bad omen.  I was THINKING about it vs just doing it.  Once again, the last hour was foot hell and the last half hour was focused on having it end.

So, same type of training session, very different experience.  Did it matter that I had biked and lifted within the past day or two?  Maybe/probably.  But this is what I really think.  On the first run, I was in great respect for a 4hr run and I was excited to meet the challenge.  On the second run, I figured if I could do 4hrs, 3hrs was a piece of cake.  I was already thinking about what I was going to do the rest of the day.  And then, once I noticed one hint of a problem (my quads were working), the dominoes fell into measuring the run in various ways and I was contemplating the work expenditure ahead.

What’s worse is, here I am over-analyzing all this so that next time I get out there for a 3 or 4 or my big 5hr run session, I’ll be thinking about everything I wrote here and probably letting the dominoes fall.  So, thanks alot!

Run Bike Swim Fall

Ouch!  Ooooch!  Ouweeee!  I fell!

The Bataan Survivors and our Team

Training is going well.  It’s early February and the March is at the end of March.  The March is 26 miles in the sand and also on paved roads.  It’s hilly and unpredictable.  Over 5000 people from around the world converge on White Sands Missile Range in southern NM.  Many are military and carry 35lb packs to simulate in part, the experience of the Bataan soldiers.  Many of these soldiers were NM natives and so there is a special honor that we feel during this March that keeps us humble and grateful.  Five years ago when I did my first March, there were dozens of NM Survivors who would wave us off at the start line.  Last year, there were eight.

This will be my sixth March, four as an individual and one as a team. The NM District of the  Army Corps of Engineers and I did it last year and are planning a team again this year.  As an Honorary Commander of the Corps, I consider this a shared experience that drives our mission to connect the military in NM with with the community. Last year,  I was the only woman of the five and our Major was almost 25 years younger than me.  He took great pains to keep my company.  When I ran, he ran, and when I walked or stopped, he did the same.  He calls me his “battle buddy”.  Geez, I’m someone’s battle buddy.

I’ve hit my training marks, in fact, I’m early and this may not be so good.  I want to peak physically and mentally at the right time.  It’s a tough event.  It’s not the lack of fitness, it’s my feet.  I hope to do the whole thing in my five toe shoes.  Not sure yet, still debating.