...in which I take the easy way out.

I was in Yellowstone all day yesterday and did not have time or energy to pull together the standard Monday blog post. In apology, enjoy this photo of a baby bison.

...in which spring has sprung.

Bozeman got hit by spring weather to the extreme over the past two weeks. We had several days in the 80s and the rest in the 70s. I was not prepared for a temperature jump of 30-40 degrees, but it did provide the opportunity to play outside without having to bring so many extra layers along. It looks like we're in for a few days of cooler temps and rain, which is good for reducing the risk of wildfires!

5/3/2013-5/9/2013
Friday: 2 hours gym climbing (5.7, 5.9, 5.10+, 5.10, 5.7, 5.9, 5.9, 5.8)
Saturday: Run up the M trail. 2.7 miles round trip, 850 feet elevation gain.
Sunday: Rock climbing in Helena at Blue Cloud Spires. Couple 5.6/5.7s, coupla 5.8/5.10s, coupla 5.9s. And I led my first climb ever!
Monday: rest with a little strength training
Tuesday: 3.9 mile run, strength training
Wednesday: 3 mile run
Thursday: 1 hour yoga

5/10/2013-5/16/2013
Friday: 2 hours gym climbing (5.7, 5.9, 5.10, 5.10, 5.11, 5.11, 5.8, 5.11, 5.6) and no, I did not actually cleanly climb any of those 11s.
Saturday: 5k trail race (Don't Fence Me In)
Sunday: 4.5 mile hike up South Cottonwood with Sam
Monday: rest
Tuesday: rest
Wednesday: Rock climb at Bear Canyon with Rob, Sean, and Tyson (5.9, 5.10, session ended by rain & darkness)
Thursday: 5 mile trail run with the always motivational B. Speed at South Cottonwood

So, I ran a race. And the race totally annihilated me. Last year I ran the 12k Don't Fence Me In and felt much better throughout the course. Important lesson that I learned from the 5k: if you have only been running on flat routes, a 1.5 mile/400 ft. climb will feel like death.

Despite having to walk the final uphill, I still ran a 25:33, placed 8th OA female, and 5th AG. This has given me motivation to be in good trail running shape this time next year because I really think I can win the 5k. Normally my strength lies in my uphill running as I'm a bit of a scaredy-cat on the downhills and am very reluctant to open up to full speed.

Other issues with this race? Blisters. Enormous, painful, performance inhibiting blisters. One on each foot just under the pinkie toe and one under the big toe of my left foot. I was so happy to get home where I could treat and dress them, but I also cursed a lot during the process. Normally I don't get blisters, but ever since I started wearing orthotics I have been getting blisters in very strange places on my feet. I'm hoping this will go away as my feet get more used to the orthotics.

Coworkers running the Don't Fence Me In.
Photo stolen from Blair.

...in which the rainbow people are coming.

It's Monday, which means that it's time for a round-up of the best of the Bozeman Police reports from the past week. Enjoy!

• An intoxicated man bit a cab driver on the hand and refused to get out of the taxi. He was arrested for misdemeanor assault. 
• A man’s chair that was stolen three years ago was seen on his neighbor’s porch. It was returned to the man. And this, folks, is why you never give up hope!
• An intoxicated man wanted to talk to someone and possibly have coffee with a police officer. 
• Someone smashed a home’s window on Story Mill Road, entered the home and took beer out of the fridge. 
• A person flagged down an officer to inform him that the “rainbow people” were starting to show up in town. That might be the nicest derogatory term I've ever heard for 'gay people.'
• A man called 911 saying he couldn’t walk and that he drinks too much. When asked how old he was, he replied, “too damn old.” 
• A man found a shotgun in a ditch while he was running on Tubb Road. Either it's raining firearms or someone was not being a very responsible gun owner.
• Two women who appeared to be fighting were merely intoxicated and hugging each other. 
• An intoxicated underage boy was stopped at 12:20 a.m. and found to have multiple signs and construction cones he had taken while he walked down the street. He was cited for criminal mischief and minor in possession of alcohol. 
• A woman had questions about an abandoned scooter that has been on her property for a couple of years. 
• A man thought someone was living in the broom closet in his building, but officers did not find anyone there. 
• A juvenile female was upset because her parents make her do chores and she didn’t want to live there anymore.        

...in which I'm a leader.

Rob and I headed out of town last Sunday to do some rock climbing in Helena. We chose the Blue Cloud Spires area because it had a good selection of lower graded routes (5.6-5.9) and I wanted to try leading a route, which I'd never attempted before.

We got a little turned around by the directions and by all the scary "NO TRESPASSING" signs along the road, but eventually found the parking area and hiked in to the crag. We parked further out than we needed to, but the road was so rutted that we couldn't imagine driving further! Lots of other folks made it past the tricky part, so now we know it can be done if we go back.

The hike in was short and sweet.

We wanted to take it easy, so we started out doing laps on a 5.6 called One Move Wonder. Actually, it was a "5.6 with 5.8 moves," which actually makes it a 5.8 as climbs are often graded by their hardest move(s). But anyway, it was what it was, which was a fun route. It was definitely a bit tricky in spots. We both did two laps on it, then Rob moved the anchor to a 5.8/5.8+ with a tough move at the top (maybe a 5.10+?). It was a top rope only route, and we did two laps there as well.

Rob at the first bolt of One Move Wonder.

Your friendly neighborhood belayer.

We them moved over to a 5.9 called Crack Attack. It involved a crack (as you may have guessed) and a roof that was tricky to pull over. At least, it was tricky for me. Rob did a great job leading it. Rob did two laps there and I just did one, then One Move Wonder was free again and I decided it was time to get on the sharp end and lead a climb.

If you are not familiar with climbing, to lead a climb means that you are the first one to climb up and you set the rope. In sport climbing, this means that each time you reach a bolt in the rock, you clip a quickdraw to it and then you clip the rope into the other end of the quickdraw. When you get to the top, you set up an anchor and either lower back down so others can climb or you bring your partner up and you continue from there. It's a bit of a head trip because you realize that if you fall, you can fall a very long distance and you will probably get some nice scrapes from the rock.

Attempting to clip a bolt. At this point, nothing is holding

me up but me, so if I fall I am going to hit the ground.

One bolt clipped. Time to move onward and upward.

Two bolts clipped. 6 more to go.

Working on #4.

I did it. I did not fall. I did not cry. I did not hyperventilate. I did do some self-talking when I got stressed.  And I'm glad that the first lead is out of the way, although I don't anticipate progressing particularly quickly.

...in which we must expand.

I've been holding on to this post by Danielle LaPorte until the time came to re-blog it. When the bombings at the Boston Marathon finish line happened, I read the post each morning for a week. I've posted it below, with its original formatting. And the link to the original post can be found here.

On a related note, very proud of my running club and my community of runners here in Bozeman for raising almost $10,000 for the One Fund.

You will be called on to expand. And this is why we practice.

I travelled to Dharamshala, India with six friends to meet with The Dalai Lama. It was cell-altering and heart-expanding. (The story is here.)

The week before our arrival, there had been a horrible event in which some monks were murdered — most shockingly, by other monks. The story was on everyone’s mind and in our small, private meeting with His Holiness, the first thing we did was offer our condolences. His response captivated me.

“Ah, yes, thank you for your thoughts,” he said. “This is why we practice, for times like these when compassion is so necessary.” He didn’t nod in mutual disdain. He didn’t show any drama. He was soft and … practical.

This is why we practice.

For times like these.

You don’t need to forgive until you need to forgive. You don’t need nerves of steel until you need nerves of steel. You don’t need to call on your reserves of compassion, or fortitude, or faith until you’ve used up everything else.

This is why we practice.

This is why, even when life is ambling along nicely and there’s food in our spiritual cupboard, we still make sure that we get to yoga, or the reading group, or Sunday services.

When we’re healthy and happy we make sure to dance, we hit the court, we pick up the phone to check in, we drop by with something in hand.

When we’re believing in the fairness and the glory of human nature and the so-called Fates, we keep seeking, and meditating on reality, and praying for healing even though nothing obvious ails us. We keep up with our spiritual practice.

We keep standing up to make our art even when we could be predictable pedestrians.

Because the day will most certainly come, as it does whether you are a whole-hearted Lover or in denial of Grace, that you will be struck down or ground down by life. It can come in tiny tearing heartbreaks five times a day, just walking through your neighbourhood. It could come in the name of tragedy that could only happen once in a lifetime.

And you will need to withdraw the insights that you put into your heart’s escrow. And you will need to call on your people — the unseen and the ones right in front of you — to help you meet the day.

You will be interrupted.
You will be called on to expand.
You will be asked who you are and why you are here.

This is why we practice.

Sunset over Granite Peak.

...in which I wish I had a purse full of steaks.

The end of the school year means that the police blotter is full of reports about intoxicated people. I've left out most of them because once you've read one "intoxicated man sustained cuts on face after falling in Bar IX," you've read them all. Happy Misconduct Monday!

• A person complained about an abandoned boat on Candle Lane that looked “tacky.”
• A caller told dispatch he was “much too intoxicated” to drive. He was apologetic for calling 911 and was given a number to a taxi service.
• A caller wanted to let dispatch know that a certain person is a “bad, bad man.” His name? Leroy Brown.

• A Bozeman woman was arrested for theft after stealing a purse full of steaks from a 19th Avenue store. I like her style.
• A person reported that neighbors were having a drum circle in their backyard at 9:50 p.m. When officers arrived, they found two people playing guitars. They were asked to call it a night.
• A woman who responded to an ad selling a monkey said she began receiving a lot of text messages asking her to send money. She believed it was a scam. I don't think the classifieds are the place to be looking for a monkey.
• Three chickens were wandering around South Ninth Avenue and in a yard around 11 a.m. They were back on their own property when police arrived to investigate.
• A woman “doing her hair” was driving “all over the road” and cutting people off around 12:30 p.m.
• A rust-colored chicken crossed Durston Road near Michael Grove Avenue around 5:15 p.m. And we still don't know why.
• A man who became disoriented while walking home from a bar ended up sleeping in an unknown person’s truck. The truck owner found the stranger at 3:45 a.m. The man was cooperative and the truck owner did not want to press charges.
• A group of people in a yard was yelling at cars with a bullhorn and holding up a sign that said, “you honk, we drink.” These guys put up that sign every year when the weather gets decent. I always honk.
• A woman lost her chainsaw while driving between Belgrade and Bozeman.

...in which I see an owl.

Two weeks worth of work out updates:

Friday: an hour and a half climbing in the gym
Saturday: splitting wood (yes, I am counting this as a workout, it's freaking hard!)
Sunday: 4 mile hike
Monday: 2 hours climbing in the gym (5.8, 5.10b, 5.10a, 5.10c- fail, 5.9, 5.10a- fail)
Tuesday: rest
Wednesday: rest/travel day
Thursday: played with the dog (really a rest day, I need to get some motivation!)

View of our cabin while hiking.

Friday: 3 mile run at Bittersweet (350 feet of gain & loss per mile- not too shabby for the midwest!)
Saturday: nada
Sunday: nada
Monday: nada
Tuesday: nada (does a fast walk between airport terminals count?)
Wednesday: 5.25 mile run
Thursday: 1 hour yoga, 1 hour bouldering

One of many routes I took hill running in Michigan.

I am seriously embarrassed to tell you how little running I've done. Overall, it would appear that I'm boycotting activity as a general rule. I suppose that's what happens when you go on vacation, or at least that's what happens when I go on vacation to Michigan. Barely exercise, increase food and drink consumption... that sounds like a great plan!

The five miler I did on Wednesday was tough, mentally and physically. I felt pretty weak overall, which is not surprising given that it's the longest run I've done since the stress fracture. But I got to run with my friend Jenny, which was great for my mood because she's so positive and cheerful. She was having a bit of a rough time too, and asked me at one point, "Does running ever feel just really hard to you?" She said she had just run 16 miles the other day, no problem, but this flat 5.25 mile run found us both riding the struggle bus. I assured her that yes, running is tough more often than I'd like to admit. On my good days, I can run forever. And on my bad days? Well, once I stopped after a half mile, turned around, and walked home.

The best part of the entire run, though, was the moment at mile 4.25 when a great grey owl swooped in front of us on the trail! It was so big and it was carrying something in its talons. Don't know what a great grey owl looks like? Here's a photo of one that was hanging around the public library a few weeks ago (and might be the one we saw on our run!):

 

Copyright Kath Crumrine, source (and more photos)

I had never seen an owl in the wild before and to see such an incredible animal so unexpectedly... well, excited is an understatement. I was so pumped that when I was telling Rob about seeing the owl, I was practically yelling and he had to tell me to lower my voice.

Indoor voices, children, indoor voices.