Bimblers Bluff- A love story in the making

Where one begins with some things are beyond me. Perhaps its because the possibilities seem endless, or perhaps its because I hardly believe it myself. This post is about another 50 km race I ran, but its really less about the race, and more about something that doesn't happen often and to some ever.
I had signed up for Bimblers bluff 50 km in CT just after I finished the pisgah 50 km. I had a plan to do a long race each month to get me into shape for
next year. I had been planning
on running this one alone without my padre. But things serendipitously changed. A few weeks before I went on a short hike with an old friend whom I had grown up with. I hadnt seen him in years. The hike was short, but within hours something had happened. Im not one to get all crazy sentimental, so Ill just tell it the way it happened. Something happened, I cant describe what without getting all cliche so I will just leave it relatively amorphous and up to your imagination. From then on we hung out all weekend, every weekend. The week before the race Ben tells me he has signed up for the race. Now, I consider myself relatively crazy or adventurous, but this was just plain wildly badass. Ben had never run a 50 km before. In fact Ben was not really a runner at all. Dont get me wrong he is in great shape, but he had never even run over 10 miles before this race. I rate this raw badassness right up with people who run these things barefoot or in sandals. Anyways, his motives were two fold, a personal challenge for his self, and also to impress and spend time with me. To say I was impressed is a gross understatement. I did also have a great deal of concern about his life as well, but I was so happy that I would get to spend another weekend with him I tried not to worry about killing him. We ate our left over jalapeno pizza from the night before and took off on our latest adventure. The first 10 miles were easy and him and I fell into a nice rhythm and predictably great conversation. It was so nice to be out there sharing it with him and enjoying all the other incredible people out there. I loved the reactions people had when Ben told them the story. The next section there was the climb up the bluff. The view was great and I couldnt have been happier to have been running and sharing that beautiful trail with Ben. We chatted our way along as we circumvented the ridge, and made our way down to the next aid station where we feasted upon the best food we could have asked for! Kelly, Bens friend was there waiting for us with a smile, encouragement, and more food! It was so great to have her there, and off we went again into the woods. At this point we are about half way through with the race and Ben still looks great, as the race goes on I become more and more impressed. We reach the next aid station, with 10 miles left to go, and Kelly there waiting for us again. The last 10 miles are always tough, but end was in site. We were both out of water, and the next station seemed to have been moved on some sick accord. The rocks seemed harder as our feet became more and more tired, our legs feeling more like a machine, one after another. But we were still happy to be with one another. I knew then we could spend our lives together. I also knew if he was going to run 50 km whimsically for me, that he was indeed my soul-mate.We got married 4 months later!

Time to get serious!

So after finishing my first ultra, I was hooked. My roommates believe me to be insane but I know that there are lots of other insane people out there. My next goal is to run a 50 miler. For now though Ill keep working on my 50 km. I signed up for another 50km race in CT next month. I now realize I need a training schedule if Im going to get serious, before I was pretty nonchalant about the whole thing, but if Im to get serious I dont think I can be anymore. Definitely need to get some more long runs in, and some speed work outs!
On sat- ran 7miles in pisgah
Sun- 12 miles in pisgah
Mon- 5 miles- beach
tues- off
wed, fri- 5 miles

Next week I plan on doing the same, but 20 miles instead on Sun. Im going to have to start upping my mileage and also reading a book on training, any suggestions are welcome!
For now Im just enjoying the beauty that fall offers. Its my favorite time of year.
For winter I think I will get into snowshoeing, Ive seen some race footage, it looks pretty intense!

Pisgah Mountain Trail Races: PISGAH MTN Trail Races 2011

http://amy-lifeisbeautiful.blogspot.com/

Ultra bonding with my dad! Pisgah 50 k race!

It was a beautiful morning on September 18th, the big day for the big 50 km trail race in Pisgah State Park. I was so excited. The weather was perfect, a cool fall crisp day. My father and I were so thankful, we knew rain or humidity would add at least an hour to our time. My dad had asked me in January if I wanted to train for the Pisgah 50k when I returned home from the Peace Corps in Uganda. He and I were both in terrible shape, and it had been a real joy training with him. We had our days, where each of us puked, bonked, and felt like Prefontaine, but such is the nature of training. Our only goal for our first ultra was to finish, to have some sort of numerical value after our name, no letters like DNF or DNR or MIA, or something serious. We were there to simply run the beautiful course, not race it. I was excited to be amongst so many people who shared this love for the woods and running. Pisgah is my favorite place, I grew up 5 miles away, and had come to love and respect the hills and the peace it has always offered me. I still get lost out there because I get caught up in the beauty of the trails, the sounds of the woods, the technicalities of the roots and the rocks, and thoughts within my own head.
We were off. The first two hours took every ounce of restraint that I had in my body not to open up and run the hills like I had so many times before. I love hills, my body works well up them, my breathing slows, and I recover quickly. But we kept it easy along the Southwoods trail, and Dogwood. It was too easy really, but I had to remind myself the race was long. I had bonked many a times during training, and I knew all too well what its like to puke while going up Resovoir or the Pisgah Mountain trail, and just how long three miles can seem when you are about to pass out from the depletion of electrolytes, so I held back, and tried to be smart. My dad and I ran it side by side, laughing along the way, and just enjoying the beautiful day we were given. We kept it easy and still we passed people heading up Chestnut Hill. I felt great and fresh, and knew the course well. As we passed people there were many exclamations about the elevation change that Pisgah had to offer, I didn’t mention that some of the more brutal elevations were yet to come, but I had learned that Pisgah deserves respect as a course.
As my dad and I made our way up Pisgah Mountain trail, an older runner told me, I was the 13th woman. I had no idea how many women there were in the race, but decided I would try and chase a few down, and make my way towards the top 10. We came to the Kilburn loop at about 4 hrs and 15 minutes, and I still felt great, too great really. I still hadn’t felt like I had run 20 miles. The people at the water station were surprised I was still smiling, but my dad and I were just out for a beautiful run together and we had more people out sharing the day with us. My dad had been dreading the Kilburn loop as most people seem to 20 miles in a race. This loop to me is an old friend. I had run it often and knew the twists and turns and the last bit of elevation climb that was to come, all taken in stride not a terrible loop. We had passed several more people that looked as if they were in quite a bit of pain, but still they mustered up encouragement, and we ran on. I felt bad; I knew the pain they were fighting. My dad still had me laughing at this point in the race. I had passed two more women and was in search for another. We finished the Kilburn loop, much like we began it, and the fact that the race was almost over began to sink in. I cant even give specifics about most parts of the race, it all blends into itself. When I am out in the woods, I lose chunks of time, and miles, and in this case a whole day flies vanishes out in the woods.
My least favorite part was yet to come, Davis Hill, a never-ending section of a very long race. With about 5 more miles left, I knew I had enough in my legs to make a push for the last woman I had wanted to find. The whole last 25 miles had been easy, don’t get me wrong I was working, but I had not pushed myself to any anaerobic capacity. So I said ‘ok dad, Im opening it up.’ The last 5 miles were probably the fastest out of all the miles my dad and I had run. He was just a few minutes behind me (much closer than I would have liked!), and I did my best to pick up the pace in search of the 10th woman. I cruised down Hubbard Hill and came upon Winchester road. I could not see anyone but I still pushed more. The last mile was the first time I had experienced any leg cramping, or had begun really breathing hard, but anyone can hold out for a mile. I finished strong, and felt great at the end of the race. I finished as the 11th woman, I think (results are not out!), the 10th lady had been about 4 minutes ahead. My dad was just a couple of minutes behind me, not too shabby for a man who turned 55 a few days before. I finished at 6 hrs and 23 min.
My feet have certainly seen better days, and are not the most attractive . I had not felt them during the course of the race but I had some pretty sweet blood blisters. The week before I had lost my toenail from running and that too became monopolized by a purple bubble. Not too bad though considering what I put them through, superficial wounds. I was walking funny a few days afterwards, and running even funnier, but my body has normalized again. It was a beautiful day, one that I loved every moment of. I am so thankful to be able to share it with my dad. Ever since I was a little girl we have always run together. This year we ran Pisgah to finish, next year we will race it! We are already planning another race! Hope to see you all out there!

What would Dewey do?

Thanks so much to Brennan, Kim, and David who helped me sort through 2,500 books!

Ngora Girls Story!

Ngora Girls S.S
For the last two years I have been stationed at Ngora Girls S.S. It’s an all girls boarding school with a population of 500. If someone were to come out and visit our village they would arrive eight hours later from Kampala, covered in a layer of red dust. Despite the heat and lack of precipitation the Ateso people are some of the most motivated, hardworking, and tall people I have ever met. Over the years, I have come to cal Ngora Village my home, to call my students my sisters, my supervisor my mother, and my neighbors my family. Although, it is I who came to teach at the school, it is I that I that has been the student.
When a volunteer first gets to site they are loaded with ideas, naiveté, and strong American cultural glasses in which they view their new home, despite their conscientious attempt not to do so. Their minds are filled with ideas on how to improve their new home, their community, and how to bring their village up to speed as best as they can. These ideas are not always feasible or realistic. As time progresses, you learn. You learn how to assess where your community is at, and what they truly need, and what will last when you are gone. Two years is a long time to be away from home, but it is quite ephemeral in regards to any sort of change, or even a needs assessment. I am now on the tail end of things and it seems as though I am finally looking through the same glasses that my school is.
The school already has a full time librarian and dedicated room for a library. The school librarian however is not well occupied. The books are few, old and in terrible shape, so he spends the majority of his time reading the local newspapers or hovering over me while I do computer lessons. Whenever the library is opened you can always find girls in there, and I know that I should be happy that they are there, instead I found myself depressed at the idea of the quality of resources they had available. They are thirsty for knowledge.

When I heard about Books for Africa from Eric who was arranging a 30,000 books shipment I knew that was the answer to the problem at my school. I was able to raise enough money to purchase 2,500 books and a lap top for my school. A reading atmosphere is not a term people use to describe Uganda, but within our community at Ngora Girls it is the head mistress’s goal to make it apart of ours. The girls stay in a small compound unable to leave. There is no distraction wrought on upon the opposite sex. There is no TV for them. There are no video games, magazines, or even enough computers, or the internet. Once the library is completed it is our hope that they will be transported into other worlds through these books. Their time will no longer be idle, and they will be consumed by books just as I have been lucky to do my whole life. It expands minds, widens the world, and motivates people to strive for something better in life.
Thank you Books For Africa, Thank you Eric, and Thank you to all my supporters! This library is going to rock all the girls and teachers at Ngora Girls long after I leave!