Another zombie fest = further justified disgustingness. Yes, for the third time in as many months Jason and I again painted ourselves gray, putrefied our skin with latex, and smeared fake blood all over our mugs. I guess you can take the Sabins out of the filth but you can’t take the filth out of the Sabins.
We participated in Night of the Running Dead, a 5K race to benefit the Huntsman Cancer Institute, with 5 of our buddies about a week ago. Racers could run as a zombie or a meal-I mean a human. The humans got a 2 minute head start after which the undead were set loose on them.
Everyone here was in a fight for their lives...or for their food at the very least. Except Drew, he was just out for a pleasant jog.
Jason and I decided to join the zombie group, as did our sister-in-law Simone. Our choice of allegiance shouldn’t surprise you; we are pretty rotten. The rest of our friends decided they’d rather run for their lives than after their food. Serve yourselves.
That climbing a tree trick never works; zombies like their grub skewered.
The concept behind this race was dreadfully enticing. Who doesn’t dream of being chased down by reanimated corpses or salivate at the thought of some fresh meat? The setting was pretty ideal too. The Utah State Fairgrounds provided that abandoned city feel you’d expect from a ghoul-infested post-apocalyptic municipality. But, while this event had the makings of grisly greatness, its perfection was marred by two pesky problems.
Cam was undaunted by little ol' zombified me. Doh! Even as a decaying corpse I can't get no respect!
First, the run started at 3:00 in the afternoon on what turned out to be an uncharacteristically warm day for October. We were feeling every one of those nearly 80 degrees as we tromped along. Thanks to the heat my zombie makeup practically did transform me into the undead. Not only did that thick stuff block my sweat and accelerate my overheating but it also gave me the sensation that I was falling apart which, due to my disintegrating latex, I actually was. It’s a tad alarming to wipe your perspiring forehead and find blood on your fingers even if you know that blood originated from a bottle you dumped thoroughly all over your face.
Brains are good. Brains are tasty. One of these days I'll get some...maybe.
My second issue with this race was that it was a little too authentically chaotic. It involved three laps around the fairgrounds but the designated route changed on each loop and there were no directing signs, which meant that everyone was literally running around in circles with no idea where they were supposed to be going. That old trick of just following the runners in front of you was no help; it’s not like those people knew where they were headed either or were necessarily even on the same lap as you.
The undead were starving and ready to sprint. Nothing like the incentive of a little intestinal gorging to hurry you along.
And it wasn’t just the participants that were confused. When Jason completed his three laps and then tried to finish the race he was told by a volunteer that he needed to go back around yet again. That guy absolutely refused to let Jason pass. Huh? Though robbed of his impressive finish time, Jason did accomplish his goal of catching up to Cam. I guess the promise of a delicious Camburger sufficiently quickened his step.
The humans taunted us fiends from behind the safety of closed door(s)??? Good thing zombies aren't too bright because it would seem that those people didn't adequately think this situation through.
Like Jason, all of our finish times weren’t even close to accurate owing to the varying routes we took. But we succored our race frustrations by stuffing our faces afterwards with waffles and frites from Bruges. Waffles may not be quite as appealing as brains but when they’re chocolate filled I think it’s a close tossup.
Watch out boys we'll chew you up!
As a side note, we will give this race another shot next year. I suspect the organizers have received many a complaint and will not make the same mistakes again.
What do you get when you combine a cold rainy Saturday morning and hundreds of tough chicks in sweaty garb? If you are now lost in thought envisioning some hybrid between a wet t-shirt contest and American Gladiators drag your mind out of the gutter and back onto the asphalt.
On cue hundreds of women begin booking it across the puddled pavement.
I just ran the Love Your Body 10K, the biggest women’s only race in Utah, with my sister-in-law and our friend Abigail. Although the temperatures were chilly during this event and we got drizzled on as we treaded along, it was a pleasant and empowering run.
Girls were jumping at this race but not on trampolines.
The race course wound through the Thanksgiving Point Gardens, which were a lovely diversion. 6.2 miles flies by when you have pretty flowers to distract you from the pavement. Beautiful blooms weren’t our only source of amusement however. Our hefty feminine mass, over a thousand strong, elicited honks from passing cars and cheers from stroller-toting chaps waiting on the sidelines. We know that we look pretty darn good in spandex but thanks for your support anyhow.
Way to go ladies! You showed that rain and the male species which gender really has a delicate constitution. Every one of you idle men have been called out. We women have set the pace so run all you fat boys run!
Jason and I have a very long and varied list of hobbies so what’s one more?
That hubby of mine suggested that I provide golf lessons for the both of us as a birthday present to him this year. I was game for trying a new game.
When I was a teenager my dad encouraged me and my younger siblings to take up golf but that didn't happen. As is evident by my awkward swing.
We took a series of lessons from Tele Wightman, a golf pro that teaches at the Thanksgiving Point and Ranches golf courses. He was a great instructor and I would recommend him to anyone seeking to become a better swinger.
Jason had never ever played golf before but his shots improved quickly...too quickly. Dang that boy!
Jason and I learned golfing basics and that golf is a pretty complicated sport. There’s a lot more to it than you’d think: hand positions, leg positions, rotation, aim, ball spin, contact points, and much more. It’s a lot to try to sort through as a beginner. Jas had better luck figuring it all out than me. I guess he’s just naturally gifted or I’m just naturally challenged. But hey, I make contact with the ball more often than not these days so good for me.
Our teacher, Tele Wightman, was very patient with us and our incompetency.
Now that I feel like I’ve got a handle on where to place my hands on the handle, Jason and I are going to get out there and practice so we can excel at being not quite the worst golfers on the planet. With a little work we might just be that good.
Jason and I recently traveled back to Moab for another long weekend of Sabin adventures.
This time, in addition to our usual hiking and biking, Jason requested that we do some river rafting. I was down with that. We went on a half day rafting trip down the Colorado River. It was surprisingly relaxing. It turns out that rafting mostly involves just chilling and chatting on the boat while you float through calm waters and wait for the occasional excitement of rapids.
Larry's Rock splashed me big time. Yes, that water glob with arms is me.
A few members of our group seemed content waiting indefinitely for some whitewater thrills. The first time we approached a section of rapids a lady sitting at the front of our raft became very concerned about being tossed into the river. The guide admitted that if anyone was going to fall in it would probably be the people at the tip of the vessel. Not surprisingly, this acknowledgement did not soothe her nerves. She promptly requested that someone switch places with her and her husband. Jason and I got volunteered by our guide for this switcharoo either because he had already ascertained that we welcome danger or that we’re wastes of flesh and therefore expendable. Whatever the reason, Jas and I didn’t mind being in the hot seats. However, I wasn’t too hip on getting a surprise river dip so, per our guide’s instructions, I wound my legs around parts of the raft to keep my booteh inside our boateh. All that fancy twisting worked, Jas and I did not end up being tossed overboard but we did get really, really wet. Good thing “getting wet” was on my river agenda. Rafting was a blast and I think Jas and I are up for trying a more demanding section of the river next time.
Lofty monoliths line the streets of Fisher Towers' sandstone cities.
We may not have made it to trail's end before the sun descended but we were immersed in vibrant crimsons much of the way up.
We got back from our dousing at nearly 5:00 that evening but decided that while there was still daylight there was still fun to be had. We assumed, incorrectly of course, that we could squeeze in a hike to the Fisher Towers before it got dark, which is about a 4.4 mile roundtrip. This hike is supposed to take 3 to 4 hours; we did it in 2. Despite our hurried pace, the sun had sunk below the horizon before we even reached the trail’s end. So we spent the first part of our trip back down nearly running in an attempt to cover as much ground as we could until we couldn’t see anymore. Once the landscape became too shadowed to distinguish we were forced to decrease our speed. Since this path travels over slickrock periodically, making small cairns the only trail markers in sections, it was pretty tricky to follow with minimal light. Fortunately, I had enough foresight to grab a flashlight out of the trunk of our car when we started out otherwise I think we would have had to find a cozy monolith to snuggle up to for the night.
The Titan, the largest of the Fisher Towers, rises a majestic 900 feet and attracts both rock climbers and moviemakers the world over.
Standing on a plateau above the Fisher Towers I paused briefly to take in the solitary desert as it was being rapidly subdued by darkness. Jason somehow captured that momentary pause with an enormous amount of pictures.
The next day we biked to a Canyonlands overlook on an ORV road that was pretty tame for the most part. This path did have some fun slickrock and bumpy sections to keep it interesting but the main draw of pedaling these 13.8 miles was definitely the views at the end. Being atop an immense plateau with 270 degrees of grandeur sprawled out below us in the form of the winding Colorado snaking along through a rainbow of whittled rock was well worth our efforts.
The rough road we took to the Canyonlands overlook wasn't without its appeal though it was much milder than our usual ride.
The view from the Lockhart Basin overlook was unbelievable. We stopped to rest, snack, and drop our jaws.
It's amazing how the Canyonlands landscape is briefly transformed by the setting sun into a fiery inferno. The alteration is so instantaneous and fleeting it's as if a match has lit the world and then, just minutes later, the consuming blaze has burned everything out.
The last hike we did before returning home was through Hunters Canyon. This canyon was its own kind of adventure; getting lost in it didn’t require the cover of darkness. The trail we followed was not well-worn and became nonexistent in the thickets or creek bed quite often. But it was a pretty 4 mile trek with flora, fauna, and trail forging aplenty, lots of the stuff that good hikes are made of.
This monstrous boulder spanned almost the entire width of Hunters Canyon so naturally Jason needed to climb it.
Jason took this fantastic picture of a dragonfly in Hunters Canyon. We saw a lot of wildlife in this narrow gorge: frogs, snakes, and, of course, a variety of unusual dragonflies.
We had another lovely trip to one of our favorite vacation locations. Oddly, this time we saw next to no one on all of our hiking and biking excursions because we either hiked at times of the day when only idiots would chose to go or because the trails we hit were a little lesser known. I’m not complaining though; I would never gripe about getting to hog gorgeous terrain all to myself.
No matter how many times we go to Moab we still always find new territory to discover and more adventures to be had. If you delight in the daring and relish unique beauty you will never leave Moab disappointed.