"...In the end, people either have excuses or experiences; reasons or results; buts or
brilliance. They either have what they wanted or they have a detailed list of all the rational reasons why not."

~ Anonymous
(taken from Matt Erbele's, It Takes Time to Get Good)

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Leaving Kelseyville: NOT a Bogg's Mtn 50k Race Report

Alternative Title: My brief, expensive vacation in ShitHolio, CA.


Short version:

I am hurting, I did not really want to run, and I was a DNS for Bogg's Mtn 50k.

More typical RBR verison:

I do not really write much about the aches and pains of running. I am 41, I did not start running (or doing anything active AT ALL) until I was 35, and, as you can gather from the title of this blog, I am NOT your typical runner's build

Translation: Trucking this much ass around can be a little tough on the joints. Shit is going to hurt. That is just a fact.

The reality is that 99% of the time, if I run long enough, whatever pain I have eventually goes away, changes location, or does not really bother me that much anymore. However, last week my hip started to hurt even when I was not running and then during a 12 mile run it not only never got better, it got worse. As a matter of fact, after the Tarantula Run is was downright painful and made it difficult to move around at all for the rest of the weekend. All week I knew that running 31 miles was probably not a good idea.

Originally hubby and Lucy (my dog) were supposed to come with me. He had told me a the week before that he did not want to go, but I had already booked a room that was a little farther from the race start than I wanted because it was an affordable place that took dogs.

Enter my motel in Kelseyville.

The driveway to the motel. Odd, that this is not the view they chose for the website picture.

Despite the fact that a small language barrier had the gal in the office repeatedly telling me that 'Mr. Ritav' (not my name) was not coming and had canceled, I finally got checked in. Lucky me, I was in the room adjacent to the more "long term" residents of the motel.

Welcome to Clear Lake, the methamphetamine capital of California, where shirts and teeth are optional!

Friday evening was spent trying to find somewhere to eat (Let's just say that Kelseyville has been hit hard by the economic downturn.), then locking myself in my room and flipping channels to find something that was not Halloween oriented on TV. I was already shacked up with the cast of The Night of the Living Dead I did not need anymore nightmare inducing material.

Saturday morning I got up and was limping around the room getting ready, deciding how much Ibuprofen I would need to get though 31 miles, and it hit me,

"This is stupid. I am being stupid. Do I want to run this race or do I want to be able to run, period?"

Loading up on anti-inflammatories, and risking making my hip significantly worse, to run a long distance race that I did not even really want to run, just so I did not have to tell people that I did not run it? That was supremely stupid.

And really? I. Did. Not. Want. To. Run.

Usually, even if I am nervous/ambivalent about a race, I can visualize running it and being on the course for as long as it takes, enjoying the views and the people. Saturday morning the thought of driving to the venue and running 50k was overwhelming. Even dropping to the 25k did not appeal to me. I had paid for the race fee, paid for two nights in this Piss-in-the-sink Motel, and then spent 3 and half hours driving up here, but come race day morning it was clear, I was hurting and the 50k was not going to happen today.

I would love to say that I calmly accepted this fact like a mature adult and made alternate plans for the day since I was in a truly beautiful area, but I did not. I cried like a baby and called my hubby. He listened to me, and then said "Come home now. I want you to come home."

I was so relieved. I know, you are thinking. "You could not make that call on your own? You are a grown, independent woman, and you needed your husband to tell you what to do?"

Yes. At that moment, yes, I did.

And with that, I packed my shit and left.

On the drive home, I was feeling pretty bad about things. Mostly feeling like a loser and that this was the beginning of the end of my running. My internal dialogue was, "You will quit. You always quit. You might as well, you are slow and fat and suck at this anyway...."

Wah. Wah. Wah.

Mid pity party, I see a dog jogging along the center median of the freeway. I hit my brakes and pulled over in the median.

I get out of the car and see that he is crossing the freeway, but then he sees me and starts to head back toward me.

Oh fuck, no!

Cars were coming. I was watching, helpless as he crossed, trying to get him to run faster. I see a white Subaru coming and clearly hitting his brakes, but I am certain he can not stop in time. I scream and cover my eyes.

Suddenly he was there, cowering next to me. Somehow, the guy did not hit the dog, nor did he cause a wreck. He did some great driving to miss him. Thank you, white Subaru Guy, whoever you are!

I grabbed the dog's collar and literally threw him in the back seat of my car, jumping in after him and slamming the door as if the terror could be locked outside. We sat there, both panting, and staring at each other, like "Holy fuck, that was close!"

I was still trying to regain my composure, when the dog found the muffin I had bought for breakfast. He wolfed it down in one snake-like swallow and then kissed my face, his stubby little tail wagging away.

You have to respect how dogs just move on from shit. We can learn a lot from dogs.

He was wearing a collar with a Rabies tag, so I called the vet, found out the dog's name was Stanley, and got Stanley's owner's information.

(Bitchy Aside: get a name tag for your dog with your name, address, and phone number on it, so people can get your dog back to you if they are found. "My dog NEVER gets out" Yeah. I have been picking up stray and lost dogs for 20 years. Everyone says that. Had this happened when the vet was closed, Stanley's owners would have been driving 3 hours south to get him. I am just saying.)

Stanley, clearly liking the freeway better from this side of the car.

Watching Stanley jump on his owner in joy and run around with his, decidedly smarter, dog buddy (the one that did not follow him on his adventure), I was suddenly not feeling so bad about not running Bogg's.


Drs. Cynthia and David said...

You are such a sweetheart for rescuing that poor dog! I am so impressed.

I think you made the right call on the race. If you're not feeling it, or feeling bad things, something is wrong and you should take care of yourself. As one who doesn't know when to quit, I can tell you that racing injured can be managed and tolerated, but it will not help your performance or progress. And your hubby is great for knowing that you needed him to encourage you to come home. He's a sweetheart too.

Hope you're feeling better soon. It'll get better if you work on some hip mobility and strengthening exercises.


Diana said...

It takes a bigger set of balls, yes even bigger than G's, to decide NOT to run when you know you didn't have it in ya.
No shame in that. To live healthy is a choice, to live stupid is.....

Take care and get some much needed rest for that hip.

C said...

You did the smart thing. God knows what could have cracked/broken if you'd run the race. Also you are my hero for stopping for the lost dog. Sadly not many people would have.

Big hugs to you, RBR. Hang in there.

Glaven Q. Heisenberg said...

To be truthful? You described DNSing a race and I thought, Meh. (Actually, I thought "Good decision under the circumstances." But I'm making a POINT, here, B*tch! So allow me a bit of poetic license, i.e., let me lie a little).

Then you saved a dog, and now you are even more my hero than before! Plus, Stanley is so cute! Plus, if he'd gotten hit in your story ... Well, let's put it this way ... you thought you cried when you didn't run your race? When animals get hurt, I can out-girl you or anyone else any day of the week.

And so for Jebus' sake, B*tch, way to bury the lede! This is NOT a post about missing a fucking race!

It's a post about saving a poor doggie! And you didn't even make that a subtitle.

I guess it's true what they say: Heroes never really know when they're being heroic, but you were heroic.

Plus I just KNOW how much you wanted that muffin!

Cheer up! You're a wonderful person.

StephB said...

Hope your hip is feeling better soon! (says the chick sitting on the exercise ball at work like a dork b/c of the sciatica)

I'm glad you were able to save Stanley and spend the day with your DH. Good for you for knowing when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em.

Glaven Q. Heisenberg said...

Not to ruin the mood, here, but I just read Diana's comment and I DEMAND that you delete it because she alleges your balls are bigger than mine and that's just impossible because mine are so big, I can barely run without tripping over them.

How in the world could YOU run, with your stubby little legs, if YOUR balls were bigger than mine? You COULDN'T! It's simple math ... or physics ... or chemistry ... My point is, it's something science-y, because it sure ain't poetry.

My point is, it's a LIE and you should delete it.

Aw, fuck it. On second thought, your balls probably are bigger than mine.


Diana said...

LMFAO-never mess with the snatch G!!!

Herself, the GeekGirl said...

1. Stanley hit the jackpot. No doubt in my mind that if you hadn't found his owner, he'd probably be wolfing down muffins in your house.

2. "You have to respect how dogs just move on from shit. We can learn a lot from dogs." yes, we can.

3. Good call on the race.

4. Hotel. Holy hell. You have to put some sort of a review in Tripadvisor.com to warn othes. What a shithole.

SteveQ said...

Kelseyville sounds like my kinda town! Nothing wrong with meth mouth that a dental dam and a set of nose plugs won't take care of.

If this had been my story, Stanley would've been rabid and Cujo-sized. And I would still be running that 50K days later. On the whole, your version's better.

funderson said...

Very smart move, although exceedingly hard to make that choice. It is awesome that you have a good man to help you out with the tough choices!

Lindsay said...

Two things i learned today: 1) RBR is, in fact, human and does not run every ridiculously long race on the west coast and 2) there's a soft side to the ol' RBR afterall.

Bootchez said...

Maybe the whole purpose of the long trip, expensive meth hotel and race fees was simply just to rescue the dog. And learn to just put things behind. Maybe the dog'll go off and rescue the child that grows up to be the one to save the earth.

You've just saved the earth! OMG, you rock!

You are much the better off for passing on the race, although you COULD have come joined us in the damp, wet, (tho seemingly meth-free!) campground. There were cinnamon rolls, not muffins, though.

You won't get rid of me that easily. I'm going to creepily stalk you, internet friend, until we meet and run together. Count on it.

Pam @ herbieontherun.com said...

I'm so glad you were there to help Stanley!

Smart move on skipping the race. I've already read about too many people sidelining themselves by running through the pain!

Herself, the GeekGirl said...

Okay well, I just checked and there are three hotels in Kelseyville, so it wasn't hard to figure out which one this was. Yikes. It looks quaint in the picture on the web site, but in reality, appears to be a breeding ground for child pornographers.

Jill said...

Yay for Stanley, glad he made it safe and sound and moved on to tasty muffins quickly after!

I hope your hip is feeling better (have had two friends with hip fractures so hip pain always freaks me) and try not to worry about the DNS, who the hell cares - aside from your inner demons, but they can be laid to rest once you feel better!!

'Drea said...

That's cool that you could help Stanley out and there'll be other races...

Aka Alice said...

I just *heart* you!

Glad you didn't run.

Really glad you saved the dog.

Sometimes fate has a way...doesn't it?

Jo Lynn said...

So, YOU are the person that finds the stray animals I don't. We are magnets! Stanley is super cute. Thank God you helped him.
Sorry you are having trouble with your hip. It is hard to opt out. I hope you find by doing that, you will be better before you know it.
Maybe we can get together for a ride in a week or so. Yup, you read that right! ;)

PunkRockRunner said...

Um…. You didn’t let Stanley lay down or sit on my blanket did you? If so, I might need the owners contact information (they might want to get him checked).

Not to sound like one of those “everything happens for a reason” guys BUT everything happens for a reason. Lucky for Stanley he didn’t listen when his owners told him never get into a limping strangers (with muffins) car.

The longer I run and the more races I enter the more I realize (and accept) that sometimes the best decision is not to run. I bailed on my back-to-back half marathons last weekend because I just didn’t have it in me (and that’s okay).

You rock (always will).


BrianFlash said...

Not even starting a race?! Shameful. And Stan probably would have made it home OK on his own.

I just had to put up a contrarian comment because that's how I am!

kizzy said...

Love this line from your blog; "...In the end, people either have excuses or experiences; reasons or results; buts or
brilliance. They either have what they wanted or they have a detailed list of all the rational reasons why not."

--kizzy vibram

Maryland Girl aka Michelle said...

I am so happy you were there for Stanley. It was what you were meant to do that day.. not running.

My hipflexor was a mess prior to MCM. REST and some work with my PT who is also a chiropractor worked wonders for me.

Rest, hip alignment, stretching and thens stregthening all good things.

SteveQ said...

Just because cute dogs running make you squeal with delight, here's Rocky: http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pV6qiByixbo/TNGfkaitRcI/AAAAAAAAHHI/en07Fv7usro/s1600/nov10+143.jpg

Willie said...

I think you did what you were supposed to do that day. Love the motel and the hot girl pic. Thanks, no really, THANKS! {fear chill runs down my body}

Carolina John said...

is it wrong that I like knowing you went to a place where shirts are optional?

I'm hitting the weight loss hard right now too. get it done to get back onto those good miles.

trailturtle said...

Dear Stacy,
Good judgment, character, compassion...this is a great post...period.
Thanks for sharing openly, Ann
PS-if it weren't for my recent hip issues, I might have done Golden Hills with you :(, but I'll hope for another shot in the future :).

Southbaygirl said...

YEAH!!!!!!!!! What should have been a sad post turned into a "fantastic reason to not run a race" post! I am SO HAPPY you had a DNS!!! Stanley would not have found his home!!! You are my hero!!!

doctorval said...

You know, guys that get paid millions of dollars to play sports wake up from time to time with injuries that just scream "Not today". I've only got one DNS myself but it was a wise move that day.

All my dogs have tags on them and are tattooed or chipped, with the exception of the rescued Doberhuhua or maybe a Whipperman or a Doberpharoah, who will be going to her forever home next week. She's getting spayed and chipped on Tuesday.

Katie A. said...

I'm so glad you didn't run - it's hard to be smart sometimes :) And I swear, you were RIGHT where you were supossed to be when you were there to get Stanley! I love happy endings!
Miss ya!