Bair Gutsman

Yesterday I conquered the mountain.  I've mentioned bits and pieces of my training for this race, but I don't think I ever fully explained it.  For those who don't know, the Bair Gutsman is a crazy race up the mountain by the weather balls in Farmington and then back down Farmington Canyon.  It's about 7 1/2 miles up the mountain and then another 5 1/2-ish down the canyon road.  I signed up for the race simply out of peer pressure.  My sister-in-law, Amy, signed up because most of her family was doing the race and her brother owns it.  Then Laura, my other sister-in-law, decided she would sign up.  I figured it was a great time to do a race.  I didn't really look into it, but just paid the money and hoped I could get myself trained enough in 5 weeks.  I had no clue since this was my first race ever.  When people asked me yesterday if this was my first time completing the Bair Gutsman I told them it was my first race ever.  The response I got was "That's brave."  Basically it's different than most races.  You're on your own up the mountain, there's a small drink station at the top and then you're on your own down the canyon until the finish line.  It really felt like it was me and the mountain.  When I could stop focusing on moving my feet or not tripping and falling for two seconds and look out at the scenery, it was amazing.  It truly is a beautiful place for a race.  Unfortunately, I was only able to divert my attention from the race a time or two.  

I was pretty much in the slow pack from the beginning of the race, but that was fine with me since my only goal was to finish.  A week and a half ago, Marcos and I went to the top of the mountain and I decided I was not ready for such an intense race.  I talked myself back intoit  though, but I knew I would need to pace myself if I was going to finish.  That I did.  I hung out with the couples, families, and older men and pretty much was comfortable with my pace in that crowd.  It's a tough race that way because it's such a small trail so you need to be going at the pace with those around you.  Kind of stressful, but I met many a 60-year-old man concerned for my well-being.  I definitely chose my group well.  I jogged and hiked and kept moving my feet until I made it to "death row" which is about a half mile from the top, but is straight up the dang mountain.  This is basically the area that killed me the last time and had me mentally psyching myself out.  Marcos, my sweet husband, had convinced me I was strong enough to do it and told me he would always be with me - even during the race.  Well, right as I started climbing death row, a sweet song that we kind of consider to be one of our "couple songs" came on my iPod.  It's called "Better Together" by Jack Johnson.  Holy cow, I almost lost it emotionally.  Just as I needed a little boost, there was my reminder that Marcos was right there with me.  I had to take a minute to breathe so I wouldn't start crying because I knew that would definitely throw my breathing off and I did not want to pass out.  

I got to the top of the mountain and was so proud that I'd made it.  One leg felt so weak I thought it would give out on me.  I did not know how I was going to start my jog down the mountain, but I figured I'd just have to push through it.  I got my little cup of gatorade and started my decent.  I'd practiced going up and running a little, but didn't have much more time to train than that so I knew the only way I could finish was mentally pushing through it.  My body has never had to do 13 miles in so short of a time.  Man, that 5 1/2 miles was SO LONG!  One winding mountain road that never ends.  I kept thinking the finish line must be just around the next bend.  I had to stop thinking about it and just focus on putting one foot in front of the other.  By this point, I could feel the blisters growing, had to try to focus my breathing to slightly relieve my increasingly painful side-ache, and had to tell myself I was strong even though every muscle in my body felt weak and tired.  At one point, I thought I'd slow my jog to a walk for a minute and rest, but I quickly realized that the only thing that did was allow the pain to manifest itself more intensely so I shifted back to my jog and settled in for the long haul.  

After what felt like forever, I finally made it to the "last bend" and could see the finish line down below.  I was so happy that I had made it that I almost allowed my emotions to get the best of me again.  Before I knew it, I could see Marcos' giddy face running up to take pictures of me with Dylan following closely behind.  Poor Preston was locked in the stroller wondering what was going on.  It was so good to see my family that I could barely focus on the race.  They announced my name and someone pointed me to the finish line that was right off the side of the road.  I was kind of in a daze and was not exactly following what was going on at that point.  I had to cross over the little mat that would log my time.  They took the microchip off my shoe, handed me my bag and t-shirt and I held Dylan's hand and limped over to find a place on a log to sit down for a minute.  I tried to stand up to follow Dylan around for a few minutes.  He was so excited to be in the mountains hiking and I wanted to share that excitement with him.  Trying to stand up from the log was one of the hardest things ever.  Once I let my muscles start to rest, they did not want to get going again.  I had to let Papi help Dylan while I drank my gatorade and shared it with my thirsty little baby.  Dylan LOVED refilling my gatorade for me though.  After a few minutes of rest, I was ready to go home.  I wanted to enjoy the moment a little longer, but I was pretty spent and a bit nauseous after chugging my gatorade so I decided I'd have to enjoy the rest of my glory from home.  

Honestly though, it was such a big moment.  To go from thinking there was no way I could complete this race the week before to actually finishing was incredible.  I can see why people torture themselves and push their bodies to the limits like this.  It was awful and awesome all rolled into one great big race.  So I've been tired, sore and starving for two days.  Apparently I burned a pretty decent amount of calories.  Yesterday I ate lunch at 12:15 and was completely starving by 2:30.  That's never happened to me before.  Crazy race!  And I'm so much more sore than I thought I would be.  I knew I would be sore, but not like this.  I think I used every muscle in my entire body - calves, hamstrings, quads, glutes, shoulders, abs, lower back....  I'm trying to figure out how my biceps could possibly be sore - I didn't use them once.  So if you see me limping around the neighborhood for a few days, just smile and wave.  It's a badge of honor for me - even though I look ridiculous.  It's going to take a while for this tired body to recuperate.  

The final bend

Crossing the finish line

So happy to see my family

Sipping gatorade and sharing it with Preston