The Last Annual Vol State Race 500k 2010 - The Ever Evolving Rules of the Road According to Abi

 
This was not to be my first attempt at running the Vol State. My initial attempt last year ended in miserable failure. I, in no way, mean to even hint that not reaching The Rock is in anyway an indication of failure, just stepping on the ferry puts one safely outside that descriptor. However, my attempt last year was one of failure and was about as miserable as it gets. I dropped out due to starting with stress fractures and developing them into something much worse, going into the race with a knee injury which amazingly the run didn’t fix (duh), having feet that a Hollywood special effects studio would have deemed unrealistic, and being sunburned to the point of looking like a leper for weeks. It took me weeks to fully recover. I have to say, that by employing the rules listed below, this year I not only finished feeling great but was back running and mowing the yard the day following my finish.

Rule One – Weight Kills

My first rule to live by in this year’s Vol State came directly from my experiences last year. Last year I was starting the run unaided with my crew scheduled to show on day two or three. Because of this I carried way too much stuff with me at the beginning, planning to hand it off to the crew once they arrived. Not only is every ounce compounded by the force of running, but it is hot!!! This year I minimized my packing list, at least I thought I minimized my weight list, by day two I would be stopping at a post office and shipping a box home. My initial packing list consisted of a 100 oz Camelbak bladder, a bed roll, blister kit, cell phone and extra battery, flashlight, extra batteries, change of socks, iPod, Solio solar charger for electronics, S!Caps and Sport Legs, a rain poncho, a white short sleeved shirt for sun protection and in case it cooled off at night (yeah, right) and a pair of Crocs (remembering how last year there were times that I just wanted the running shoes off, but wasn’t ready to necessarily stop, and also for going potty when bedded down for the night without having to put my shoes back on), all packaged in waterproof dry bags in case of rain. All of these items were stowed in my GoLite pack. This pack is the most comfortable pack I have ever found (and the evidence in my closet indicates that I have a pack fetish), in fact it is so comfortable that I can easily pack too much. What I didn’t take into account is the fact that, while comfortable, it is hot in that it doesn’t allow for heat dissipation. By day four I would be sending the pack home and replacing it with something smaller and covering less of my body surface.

Rule Two – Address Small Issues and Potential Injuries as Soon as They Arise.

This is also a rule that has it’s origin in my failed attempt of the previous year. Last year my attention was only on the clock and the mileage I wanted to achieve each day. When hotspots arose I decided to only address them at the next scheduled stop. This proved disastrous. My feet literally were a pulpy mess by the end of the first day, hell, they were a mess by the time I reached the first town. To be honest, I did not really know how to treat and prevent blisters last year like I do now, so my attempts to mitigate the mess were sorry at best and as a result I decided to just gut through it. This year, as soon as I felt a hotspot forming, I addressed it at the next opportunity. This worked well for me with one exception, I was along the side of a road with no shoulder and no place to step away from the road or sit down so that I could take care of my foot. I could feel the hotspot and knew how to address it, but could do nothing about it for nearly an hour as I felt it turn from a hotspot to a small blister to a large blister. This was one of the few negative moments for me during the run. I was so frustrated and almost in pity party mode. It was the only time I wished for a crew, just to be able to sit down in a car seat and fix my foot. While I was beginning to feel sorry for myself I had switched to a fast walk in order to mitigate the damage and my hand happened to catch my eye. In my cupped hand the sunset was reflecting bright red and it made it look like I was holding the sunset in the palm of my hand. It was such an amazing moment, and I would have missed it if I had been running since my hands would have been higher and turned at a different angle. I realized that even the low moments have a purpose and a silver lining, had I not been forced to go through the development of this blister I may have missed this moment, and blister or not, I wouldn’t trade it, it was truly amazing.

Rule Three – As A Solo Runner, Planning for Fuel is Imperative and Ever Changing and Has A Profound Impact on Your Pace

My third rule was only a concept prior to running this year and was not something I had an issue with last year. As a solo runner you have to be ever aware of when your next opportunity to refuel will happen. This has a huge impact on how much fuel you should consume prior to starting the next leg of the journey and also whether or not you will be running as you leave on that leg. In my ruck I carried a 100oz water bladder. I did not intend to, nor did I always, fill it to capacity as I was leaving a fueling point. For me, trying to run with a full 100oz was not a smart option. Not only was the weight significant, but the bouncing and chafing would eat me alive. To do the planning you not only have to consider how far it is to the next location and how much you will need to consume due to the intense wet heat, but also what they might have to offer and whether or not the store or restaurant is likely to be open at the time of day that you will be passing through. Ideally I planned to consume and carry only what I needed to get me to the next point without allowing myself to completely tank my blood sugar levels or become dehydrated. For the most part this worked well for me, however, there was more than one instance when trying to carry only what I needed backfired and resulted in slowing down my progress significantly.

The most disastrous of these came on my last night on the road. I had gone into a Hardee’s in Manchester and had a sit down meal during the heat of the day in order to not only refuel but to also get away from the sun and cool off during the worst of the heat. I knew that the next town was less than six miles away at this point and that my dinner destination was only 9 miles past that. As a result I only took enough fluid to get me to the next town. This proved to not be an issue. I made it to the next town in good time and not feeling ready for another meal resupplied with about 60oz of fluid, a mixture of Powerade and water, an ice cream cone, and a Coke. I didn’t linger in this town knowing that the next town was small and that the restaurant and convenience store would likely not be open late. I knew I should arrive between 8PM and 9PM and felt confident that something would be open as long as I got there before 9PM. Imagine my surprise and dismay when I arrived in Pelham to find not only that everything was closed, but that there wasn’t a vending machine anywhere. This was a lowpoint morale wise. I sat on the curb of the convenience store and took stock of my supplies. I had one small package of honey roasted peanuts and about 10oz of fluid to get me through the next seven miles of road and this included the climb up Monteagle Mountain. Knowing I was not likely to find anything before reaching Monteagle I had to revise my plan of pushing through and running most of the distance between the two towns.

Knowing that my stomach was growling and that I was well hydrated at the moment I decided to ration out my supplies. I would eat about 10 peanut halves and take a sip of water each time my stomach began to cramp and growl. While this should get me to the top of the mountain, it would not allow for me to push the pace. I also knew that there were few places to get off the road once I began the climb and that, it being night and the fact that I do not use a light at night, I may not see them so I began looking for a place to take a preemptive nap. I soon found a house for sale with a front porch surrounded by a railing that was obviously empty. There was also a street lamp near enough for me to see as I placed my bedroll and cleaned up after my nap but without it being direct enough to mess with my sleep. I wasn’t really tired or sleepy at this point, planning to reach Monteagle at an early enough time to get a hotel (it would have been only the second such luxury of the race, my only night in a hotel being as I was leaving Lewisburg) and then make the final push in the morning, but I lay down anyway to give my body a rest and set my timer for 45 minutes. I was there probably less than 20 minutes when I felt what I thought was a mosquito on my wrist and I smacked it only to realize it wasn’t a mosquito. Upon further inspection I found that it was a Brown Recluse spider and that it had bitten me. Luckily it was small, but there were two more where my hand had been so I quickly packed up my stuff and continued on.

I made good time climbing Monteagle. While I will always be a single-track trail girl at heart, any mountain will raise my spirits and energize me so I was very happy during this portion despite the supply snafu. However, by the time I reached the top I was dehydrated and my blood sugar was so low that I stumbled into the gas station with the McDonald’s attached looking like I had been on a bender. This gas station was a half mile or so off course by the time I made the round trip but I thought it was necessary since I did not expect to find anything else along the way open. It was funny though since earlier in the day I was not willing to cross the road to get to a restaurant that I preferred, choosing rather to eat a less desirable meal as opposed to crossing the road. By the time I entered, I was not able to speak or think coherently and am sure that I made the girls there a little nervous. Not to mention that I smelled so strongly that I was offending myself. I quickly bought a soda and a supply of various types of peanuts and sat down outside on the curb to drink the soda and check out my feet as I allowed my blood sugar to return to a safe level. After recovering for a few minutes I proceeded to the drive-thru lane and ordered some food and more fluids to resupply before heading to my next destination for the night where I planned to take my final nap in the relative comfort to be found on a picnic table before pressing through to the finish line. While I survived this, I was very glad it was the last night out since I never did get my blood sugar corrected before the finish line. To be honest, it was the second night in a row that I found my nighttime refueling point to be closed when I arrived, I will definitely have to factor this into next year’s solo attempt.

Rule Four – Shit Happens…Sometimes Literally, Just Deal With It and Move On

The next rule is one we should all be familiar with as ultrarunners, but it seems to grow exponentially as the length of the trek increases. We are all familiar with the little things that crop up, a pack strap that becomes annoying, an article of clothing that rubs us in just the wrong way unexpectedly, not having the fueling options of our first choice. When these things happen on a long trek they should be addressed immediately and then we move on. However, sometimes things that we never saw coming happen and they can pose interesting challenges. How we deal with them will set the tone for the race and make a difference as to whether we are simply trudging along or truly enjoying the journey.

My most notable incident of this category happened on my third morning out there. I had made some changes to my pack and the supplies I was carrying and had also gotten breakfast and was intending to find a nice shady place to eat and then begin running, really hoping to make up some time now that my pack was lighter. I was feeling great and very excited about the morning’s run when all of a sudden I had a series of stomach cramps that caused me to double over. My system had been cramping and being an issue for most of the night, in fact I woke to a start thinking I had heard a bear at one point only to realize it was me. I was hoping it was just an adjustment to the long hot days and that it would quickly pass. This was not the case. Without any warning I had a bout of uncontrollable diarrhea. I was very lucky that I was not on the open road when this happened and was able to quickly get out of sight behind an abandoned building and check out the situation. Well, it wasn’t good. In fact it was a bloody mess literally. I was a little concerned about all the blood, new and old until I remembered that I had accidentally eaten a large amount of little red ants the previous morning and that my system was definitely not used to that. How did I accidentally eat a box of ants? Well, it is actually quite funny. I had stopped at McDonald’s for a dinner to go and had added a couple of apple pies thinking I would want them for breakfast while traveling between cities. I had later taken a nap at a construction site in a nice sandy area. I had noticed a few ants in the area, but they didn’t seem to be interested in me so I curled up and went to sleep using my ruck as a pillow. After an hour and a half I woke and decided to continue on. I figured it was a good idea to eat one of the apple pies and took one out of the bag. I don’t use a light of any kind at night on roads and figured my hands were dirty so I opened the box and sort of tapped the pie out into my mouth. I noticed it was really sandy and wondering how I managed to get sand inside the box, inside a bag, inside my ruck I decided to just wash down each bite with water and not chew so I wouldn’t get sand in my teeth. This worked and I didn’t give it another thought until an hour or so after dawn when I decided to eat the other pie. I opened the box and it was a solid mass of ants. I quickly dumped the pie into my hand and proceeded to shake and blow on the pie until all the ants were gone with a “you are NOT getting my breakfast you little buggers” and then ate the pie. It was only an hour or so later that it dawned on me that I had not eaten a box of sand with my pie in the middle of the night, but a box of ants. I figured they were good for a protein boost and that there wasn’t anything I could do about it now so I just kept moving. Anyway, it appears that my system is not geared for the consumption of ants, at least not in the quantity that I consumed and not alive. Oh well, I did what I had to do. I proceeded to cut away much of the lining of my shorts and sort of fashioned a makeshift diaper out of one of the extra bandanas I was carrying and headed out. It was a couple of days before the bleeding stopped completely and I went through several bandanas but it only served to slow me somewhat. I figured that if it didn’t cease by the time I reached the rock I could always get it checked out once I got home.

Rule Five – When You Are Going to be Wearing/Carrying the Same Gear for Hours or Days, Choose Wisely.

I put a lot of thought into what I would wear and carry for this trek. I chose a pair of shorts that had pockets and were moisture resistant, a jogbra that had served me well over several races, my Injinji socks since my biggest blister risk is between my toes and they allow for me to only tape the toes that need it, and a pair of Vasque Velocity shoes. All of this sounds reasonable for a long trek on pavement except for the shoes. They are trail shoes, heavy and solid trail shoes. However, for years they have served me well (of course they have dropped that line now) and they are what my feet like and what usually do not give me any problems with blisters unless I do something stupid. I really fought over the idea of using trail shoes on the road and have tried countless models of road shoes with the same result, I always get blisters if in them for over an hour. In the end I decided on the trail shoes and am so happy that I did. With the exception of the hot spot that I couldn’t treat in a timely manner earlier, I only managed to get a couple of minor blisters and after they had been treated they were good to go and did not give me any further problems. I did not take any optional changes of clothing and while I smelled really bad by the end, I was still for the most part comfortable in what I was wearing. The one exception was the night I left Wartrace, TN. I was damp and felt sticky. No matter how hard I tried, and the fact that I always stripped down before taking a nap and hung my clothes up to dry as much as they could, I was never dry during the race. For some reason this evening was the worst, my backside felt like I had been rolling in nettles. The ruck was long enough to just cover the waistband and top of the shorts and made it worse, causing the damp shorts to be pressed against me. It was a long and very dark road and there was no traffic. At first I decided to roll the shorts down as much as I could, but that caused them to bunch funny between my legs and was annoying. Finally I didn’t think I could take it any longer, but I wasn’t in a place to take a break and I wasn’t sleepy and was moving well. So, I decided to just take my shorts off and run without them. I kept them in my hand and when the rare car would pass I would put my hands on my hips and hold the shorts across my front, or back as the situation called for, then switch them as the car passed me. I did wonder what I would do if two cars approached at the same time, but figured I would figure it out if the situation arose. The situation never arose and after a couple of hours I began to get to an area where there was more traffic and more light and put my shorts back on. By that time the nettle sensation was gone and they felt great again. As for the way I smelled, it was during this same stretch, while not wearing my shorts that I came across a skunk in the road. It was walking along the white line and at first I thought I was hallucinating and that the line was moving. When I realized it was a skunk I gave him a wide berth. Then I stopped. I started thinking about how I would smell if I had been sprayed. Then I started thinking that it would be a preferable smell to the one I was currently wearing. I stood for a few moments. I knew that skunk spray stayed with you, I have been sprayed before, but I couldn’t remember if it was a base or acid and if it would irritate the skin and potentially cause chafing. I pondered this question for a moment before realizing that I couldn’t be sure and that I did not want to risk something that would burn my skin or cause me to break out. So after a moment I decided to not go back and nudge the skunk with my toe deciding rather to preemptively apologize for the way I smelled when necessary.

Rule Six – If At All Possible, Go Into The Event Well Rested, Well Hydrated, Well Fed, Acclimated to the Environment, and Injury Free.

Okay, for me this was a goal that was only partially realized. I was fairly well hydrated, definitely well fed (THANK YOU MOJO BURRITO!!!, home of the world’s best burrito and bowl after bowl of queso that no one cares if you eat with a spoon), and injury free, but not well rested at all. I also misjudged the becoming acclimated to the steam-room-like heat. I had moved about a month prior to the race into my dream home. It was my Grandparents home on Lookout Mountain in Chattanooga, TN. However, the move included 20,000 lbs of household goods, nearly all in boxes, and an acre of land that had not been tended to in many years. Add five kiddos to the unpacking and brush and ivy clearing and it amounted to many long and exhausting days. I am a very productive woman, but only one woman. I had turned off the A/C in my house and worked in the heat of the day to get acclimated, but there is no getting acclimated to the heat here in the damp south. I now know that the heat compounds with the number of days you are exposed without relief. Instead of becoming acclimated like one does at altitude, when dealing with 24/7 steamy heat one only becomes more damp, more hot, and more drained. It felt like I was being glazed like a rack of ribs ready for a southern barbeque. Even when I would strip down and get into my sleeping bag at night I would remain damp. So, if you are coming to do Vol State, especially if you are doing it solo and unaided, hang out in your air conditioned world and store up your energy, you will be hot and damp and there is nothing you can do about it!!!

Rule Seven – Even The Best Laid Plans Will Change Along the Way, Be Flexible and Don’t Be Afraid to Revise as the Situation Calls For.

I went into Vol State with the goal of five days. I would have to average one 50k run every 12 hours. In my current physical condition, I thought this was doable for me. However, I made this plan when I thought I would be an aided runner. I made maps that reminded me where each 50k mark was and what was nearby so that my crew could have everything in place so that I could rest as needed. Somehow I didn’t think to change this plan once I found out that I was going to be unaided. In fact it was a couple of days into the race and a few snafus before I altered this goal.

After the first 24 hours I was right on target. It felt great and not too pushed. I felt that I had a shot at my goal. Even though I had had a few little incidents that robbed me of time on the first day, I felt that everything was now going to go smoothly and that I would have an easier time on the second day staying on goal. The most notable incident on the first day involved my estrogen patch. I am post menopausal and must wear an estrogen patch. When the patch goes beyond it useful life I have trouble dealing with heat and I do not sleep well at all (however, if you ask close family members they will tell you there are many more side effects, nothing like having a rough morning and having your eight year old walk up and ask if you needed a new estrogen patch to bring on reality). Normally, due to my level of exercise and sweat rate, a patch lasts me about three to four days. Knowing this I changed my patch the morning of the start and carried an extra patch with me. What I forgot was the tegaderm patch that I cover the estrogen with so that it will stay attached. So the first snafu of my race happened when I reached Union City and went inside to a restroom. As I pulled my shorts down, my estrogen patch flipped off and into the toilet. I just stared for a moment and then decided to apply the patch I was carrying with me. I knew that the heat would kill me otherwise and that the little amount of sleep I was planning would not come to me if I did not have the estrogen in my system. I also realized that the patch I was applying had no hope of sticking without a tegaderm covering. I then decided to hurry into the first drug store I came across and purchase a patch. Well, it seems that tegaderm isn’t carried in a regular drug store, I would have to go to a home health supply store. The pharmacist directed me to the location of the one nearest, and while a few blocks off course, I deemed it a necessary pit stop. However, as I was making my way, I came across an emergency room. Knowing that they would have a supply, I decided to pop in and beg my way to a patch. I entered the waiting room and approached the lady at the desk. I proceeded to tell her that, while she worked in an emergency room and heard many strange requests, I may just be making one of the strangest requests she had yet to encounter. I explained about the race and the fact that my estrogen didn’t have a hope of staying put without a tegaderm cover and begged her for one. With a laugh she motioned me back to the nurses’ station where I again explained what I needed and why I needed it. I do have to say that they were quick to supply me with a patch. However, the patches they had required two hands to apply. So here I am trying to pull down my shorts to expose the estrogen patch and get the tegaderm into position with only two hands. Nearby were what turned out to be two medic students there for a clinical rotation. I quickly called one over and told him that I was going to pull down my shorts and that I would appreciate him applying the patch for me. I have to say that he did as he was told without question, but I bet he has a story when he gets back to class.

While the estrogen incident was only the first unexpected time waster on the first day, when running solo and being self sufficient there are too many unexpected time wasters to count. It seems that everything takes more time that you first thought it would. So, by the end of the second day I had revised my plan to a six day race and was feeling pretty confident that it was attainable, as long as nothing too unexpected didn’t crop up. As for letting go of the original plan, that was really hard and I fought it. Instead, telling myself that I would just have to do 35 miles each 12 hours or else have a really good day or night and then go back to the original. As is evident by my seven and a half day finish, this wasn’t the only time I had to revise my plan. I will go into further detail in the explanation of Rule Eight.

Rule Eight – When You Find Yourself Without a Safety Net, Allow Yourself to Dial it Back, Meeting Your Goal is Optional but Surviving to Run Another Day Is Imperative.

As an unaided runner you begin the race somewhat without a safety net. There is no one dedicated to knowing where you are and what you are doing every moment. Not even someone that will really go beating the bushes and questioning store clerks if you aren’t seen or heard from for a few hours. This did not scare me. In fact in many ways I was looking forward to it. One of my favorite parts of training for long races and attending them is that I get to spend hours alone in the woods as if I were the only person on the planet. Anyone that knows me knows that I am a social butterfly and that I love being surrounded by people. I love meeting new people and keep an open door policy at my house for anyone wanting to come train or visit. But there is another side of me that craves and enjoys seclusion just as much. I was looking forward to being alone and to the challenge of figuring everything out along the way on my own. However, I started the race with a cell phone. As long as I had my cell phone I didn’t feel as if I were ever truly out there on my own. Worst case scenario I could call in the cavalry and, with the GPS feature on the phone, tell them exactly where to come collect me. This all changed on Saturday afternoon.

I had brought a solar charger but it had come without the correct attachment to charge my Blackberry. Prior to the Last Supper I had attempted to get to a Radio Shack in time to pick up the required cord. As it happened I arrived just after closing and was not able to get the cord. As I usually do when things don’t go as planned I chalked it up to “wasn’t meant to be” and decided to only turn on my phone for morning and evening updates and incase of an emergency. I foolishly thought turning the phone off would prevent running down the battery. What I didn’t know is that the GPS function continued to attempt to find satellites while the phone was turned off. By Saturday afternoon both my primary and back-up battery were dead. Did I mention that my phone was my alarm clock for my scheduled naps? Anyway, I was very frustrated with the dead phone and the next time that Gary came by I threw the phone and the extra battery into his trunk and said good riddance. What I didn’t consider until later was that I could have stopped somewhere and bought another charger and plugged the phone in while taking breaks or getting food. The reason that I hadn’t brought the charger was that I did not intend to be inside somewhere that might have an outlet long enough to allow the phone to charge. By the time this dawned on me it was too late and retrieving the phone would have switched me into the aided category and if I was going into that category it was only going to be with the addition of a full crew to take care of all my needs, not just to retrieve a cell phone.

It was the next day, after oversleeping the previous night, that it truly dawned on me that I was completely without a safety net. I was pushing myself well beyond my comfort zone to make up for lost time and I got to the point that I was nearly swooning with the sun and heat and almost stumbled off the shoulder of the road. This brought me to a full stop. I suddenly imagined what could have happened if I had fallen down the embankment and become truly injured. My first thought was that I could always call someone to come get me. Then I remembered that I did not have a cell phone. This truly brought a shiver of fear up my spine. While I try not to let my racing impact my family too much and make sure that the kids are doing something fun that wouldn’t involve me anyway when I am gone, I realized that they did expect me to come home alive and relatively healthy. It was at this moment that I let go of any particular finish goal. Rather, I decided to just relax, have fun, and stay within my comfort zone for the remainder of the race. Instead of the to-go line at fast-food restaurants or grabbing what I could at convenience stores to take two meals at a time I began to find local places and sit down and order in and meet and talk to others. The race itself changed from a race with a time goal to a vacation in which I really got to see the country side and meet people that I would otherwise never have had a chance to talk to. However, I still had doubts that my once extremely competitive side would accept this and allow me to live with the decision without any regrets.

The only time that my thinking on this altered was when I was close enough to the finish line at “smell the barn” so to speak. I was coming through New Hope along a road that, while fairly exposed, did offer pockets of shade, albeit often on opposite sides of the road. I was making my way through this section like a soldier in combat going from shady spot to shady spot as if they were safe positions and running the distance between as if I required covering fire. It was the time of day that I usually found a shady spot to get a little relief from the sun, but I was intending to push through to the finish and then rest. It was here that I had my scariest moment of the entire race. I was standing in a shady spot and saw that the next one was on the opposite side of the road. I took a deep breath and made a run for it, not pausing to look for oncoming cars. I was very nearly hit by cars coming from both directions. This terrified me. I noticed a shady spot in someone’s yard next to their mailbox and decided to lay down for about 10 minutes to reclaim my bearings. I had made it a habit to not stop in someone’s yard out of courtesy throughout the trip, but this was an emergency. I set my timer on my watch (purchased along the way just for this purpose) and lay down. I wasn’t there 3 minutes before I became aware that a truck had pulled into the driveway and that the driver was making their way towards me while talking on their cell phone. I was ready to apologize and then beg to lay there for just a few more minutes when I realized that the driver was talking to 911 and had called for an ambulance. I am assuming from the overheard conversation that it was one of the cars that had nearly hit me and that they thought I needed medical assistance. I quickly hoped up and explained what I was doing and that the finishline was nearby and that I really was okay and had recovered and was able to call off the ambulance, but it woke me up to the fact that the race isn’t over until it is over and that I needed to survive the final eight or so miles.

I quickly made my way to the last pit stop before the finish line and spent about an hour and a half recovering before heading up the mountain. The man who owns the store was wonderful and didn’t even seem to think it all that odd that I bought a bag of ice then proceeded to sit on it, lay on it, hug it to me like a child, then rest my legs and feet on it until I was cooled off and ready to run. In fact he cooked me what may have been the best cheeseburger that I have ever eaten and insisted over my protests that I remain there until I could eat at least have of it, this took awhile since my stomach was in terrible shape, but made all the difference for the last leg and as a result I was able to run at least 80% of the final 7 miles and felt great at the finish. I do have to say that even at this time I consider slowing down and staying in my comfort zone and playing it safe rather than pushing it to be the best decision that I made throughout the entire event. I relish the decision and it turned my time out there on the roads into the best weeklong vacation that I have had the joy to experience.

Rule Nine (and the most important one by far) – Wherever You Are, Whatever You Are Doing, Embrace Each and Every Moment and Enjoy Them to the Fullest.

This is my primary rule for life in general and it did not change while out there on the roads. I am often told that I still look at the world through the eyes of a three year old. I stop to smell the flowers and look at the interesting bugs along the way. I take great pleasure in watching the sunrise or the patterns in the clouds. I question everything and the most common thought or word on my lips is “why”. Not that I require an answer, but I love pondering why things are like that are and why things happen as they do. I also live with the belief that every moment you survive is by definition a good moment. That experiences can be divided into two categories, good and learning, and that if you managed to live through it, it truly couldn’t be all bad (a little caveat here, I have been fortunate in my life to never have experienced any truly bad times and at this time feel that the only thing that would fall into that category is the loss of a child, and that is something that I don’t even attempt to think about and would likely not survive). There are times when I will think for a moment that I wished things could be different somehow, but give me another minute and I will be looking for the lesson or the opportunity that will present itself that I might have missed if I had gotten my way. I didn’t start out life this way and it took quite a while and lots of living along the way to get here, but here I will stay. The most amazing part of this outlook on life is the split second when a moment goes from being frustrating or a ‘downer’ to the moment when it reveals itself as an amazing experience. The most memorable of these from Vol State happened in the wee hours of Sunday morning. I had taken a planned nap in a cemetery that my Mother had found during my attempt last year. I was planning to only be there a total of two hours to include set up and repacking. However, this was the first nap without my cell phone which had been my alarm clock. Figuring I wouldn’t oversleep since I usually was packed and ready to go by the time the alarm went off I found a nice comfortable spot to sleep and removed my clothes and draped them across some of the headstones to dry out. I did not have a watch with me and could find the time on my iPod, but couldn’t get the alarm function to work right for me so had fallen asleep hoping to wake in time to meet my goal. This was at a time when I still had a finishing goal to meet. I awoke to a light rain, not enough to soak me, just enough to wake me. When I looked at my iPod for the time I was crushed, I had slept nearly 5 hours. For a second I couldn’t move, feeling the weight of this and knowing that my newly created time goal was just completely blown out of the water. I quickly jumped up and began moving my ruck, sleeping bag, and clothes to the porch of the church in order to keep them from getting soaked. As I was making a final dash for my shorts the bottom fell out of the sky and it began to pour. At that moment I noticed how wonderful the cooing rain felt and threw my arms wide and tilted back my head to maximize the sensation. Before I knew it I was spinning in circles and laughing out loud. The exact thought that went through my mind was, “while there have been and will be moments that equal this, it truly doesn’t get any better than this.” For the next several minutes I danced barefoot and naked around the cemetery laughing out loud and completely giving myself over to the joy of the moment. I realized that even if my race ended right there, or something came up along the way that prevented me from reaching the rock, it would all have been worth it for those few unexpected minutes of pure joy. The rock lost its lure on me and the race became about the joy of the journey. Every step following this was viewed from this perspective and I wouldn’t go back and change a thing.