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The Mucky Brewsters

This year Jason and I participated in the Dirty Dash again for the third time in a row. Although our companions on this run change every year along with the weather’s temperament, the outcome never does. We consistently end up goopier than a sick toddler’s diaper after trudging through stinky streams, sludgy pools and slippery hillsides but getting gross is more fun than you’d imagine. You’ve always wanted a mud-stache haven’t you?

Our costumes did not convey the punkiness that they were meant to. I looked more like a circus biker than an orphan misfit.
Our costumes did not convey the punkiness that they were meant to. I looked more like a circus biker than an orphan misfit.

Our team this year, originally comprised of Jason and me and our friends Adam and Abigail, picked up a straggler from a different group signup gone awry, my buddy David. He was asked to join a team of six that ended up being five short. Luckily, David had us as a backup and we’ll take anybody. We designated ourselves The Mucky Brewsters and attempted (unsuccessfully) to dress accordingly. If you’re too young to understand our clever pun then you missed out on some quality 80s entertainment.

The Pig House was teeming with suds but, oddly, those bubbles only made you feel slimier.
The Pig House was teeming with suds but, oddly, those bubbles only made you feel slimier.

Unlike last year, our early starting slot did not result in near hypothermia this time. The temperatures were perfect that morning for a hop in the slop. We were warm enough that we didn’t freeze while swimming through vats of muddy goo but cold enough we didn’t crack like the grime on our skin between obstacles.

I lost momentum in the middle of my chute dive but that didn't stop my giggles from descending.
I lost momentum in the middle of my chute dive but that didn’t stop my giggles from descending.
Jason flew down the Slop n slide too quickly to finish gracefully.
Jason flew down the Slop ‘n slide too quickly to finish gracefully.

While the Dirty Dash is a run, “running” is perhaps not the best description for what we did along its route. Adam admittedly loathes exercise and plans on avoiding it for the rest of his life if at all possible. And David, while always very concerned about the size of his muscles, often neglects to remember the size of his puny heart. So yes, we had a few cardiovascular difficulties during our sullied trek. However, although the reluctance of some of our racers necessitated a lot more walking through this course than usual, everyone completed the 10K. (Adam’s exercise-induced catatonic state made tricking him into missing the 5K shortcut easier.)

David screamed the whole way down the Slop'n Slide. He was going a little faster than his bare arms could handle.
David screamed the whole way down the Slop ‘n Slide. He was going a little faster than his bare arms could handle.
Adam had a big blob of much stuck to his teeth for most of the race but he was too exhausted to notice.
Adam had a big blob of muck stuck to his teeth for most of the race but he was too exhausted to notice.

I’ll admit though that David did come in handy on a few occasions despite his aerobic insufficiencies. As we all know, I have the upper body strength of a gerbil so I’m sure that some of the race barriers that involved the mandatory use of arm muscles would have resulted in catastrophe and humiliation for me had both Jason and David not been around to act as my saviors. For instance, I completely slipped at the apex of one wooden wall that was about 15 feet high and I’m not too much of a stalwart feminist to admit that had those two boys not come to my rescue and grabbed me I would have ended up flat on my face and probably broken. David, I am most grateful for your muscles yet that appreciation will not stop me from making fun of your stride. Idiocy = teasing. Sorry, I can’t change the laws of the universe that dictate the balancing of that equation.

Our team's incoherent apparel was quickly lost under too many mud layers to count.
Our team’s incoherent apparel was quickly lost under too many mud layers to count.

The Dirty Dash was again as filthy as its name would suggest. I’m glad that Jason and I had a couple of fresh, albeit sluggish, recruits to pester along its sloppy path. And yes, those dawdling rookies may have been somewhat instrumental in the successful implementation of my manglement prevention program. Thank you slow people for flexing your limbs when my tiny T. rex arms failed me.

Dirty Dash, may your dirt be as cozy and your muck be as sweet next time me and your mud pits meet.

Rachel June 26, 2013 No Comments

The Proverbial Corner

It is unanimously acknowledged among the chosen that biking is the ride to enlightenment. The insights of the ancients tell us so and who are we to argue with a bunch of really old people? Jason and I have found many favorite local spots for cycling transcendence but we are always happy to add another to our long list and that’s just what we did a couple of weeks ago when we tried out Corner Canyon in Draper for the first time. Those hallowed hills increased our comprehension of the proverbs of old and confirmed the agelessness of their admonitions. Allow me to share the proverbial truths testified by this ride:

Without a map, one cannot hope for a destination.

Corner Canyon contains a myriad of trails that crisscross and intersect each other often. The path options are boggling and the ways to get lost even more numerous so I’d strongly recommend grabbing a map from the trailhead if you wish to explore this region. Unless, of course, you prefer being puzzled perpetually over your whereabouts.

The Canyon Hollow Trail, full of twisty ups and downs, was particularly fun to ride.
The Canyon Hollow Trail, full of twisty ups and downs, was particularly fun to ride.

The wise man builds his house on rock; the fool rides his bike on sand.

We started out on the Lower Corner Canyon Trail and then joined up with the Canyon Hollow Trail until we hit Ghost Falls. Lower Corner Canyon traverses some sandy regions. Jason hit one of these, flipped his bike and did a topsy-turvy spiral over his handlebars. Fortunately, he only got a few scrapes and bruises from his unexpected aerial maneuvers.

The trails in Corner Canyon are well signed but they intersect each other so often that those markers are a lot less helpful than you'd expect.
The trails in Corner Canyon are well signed but they intersect each other so often that those markers are a lot less helpful than you’d expect.

Breaking the ties that bind makes even going downhill an uphill climb.

From Ghost Falls we had planned on taking another longer loop around the upper regions of the canyon but, alas, Jason’s bike chain broke just as we were nearing that phantom. He had to ride his bike all the way back down the canyon without the luxury of a chain. Luckily, the terrain is mostly downhill in that direction so, although he didn’t have any pedaling power or means of control, he made it to the car without crisis.

His broken chain, although highly inconvenient, did not break Jason's good mood.
His broken chain, although highly inconvenient, did not break Jason’s good mood.
A truck was lodged in the streambed near the falls and, judging from the trees enshrouding it, that steed wedgie had been in place for a long time.
A truck was lodged in the streambed near the falls and, judging from the trees enshrouding it, that steel wedgie had been in place for a long time.

The true state of man is sweaty. Only when we accept this are we open to the perspiration of the universe.

Ghost Falls, named so because it disappears altogether when the conditions are right, made for a nice, if unplanned, endpoint to our canyon climb. Thanks to the spring melt off, it was a gracefully twisting stream of water and its curvy flow over a series of flat mossy boulders was serene and mesmerizing.

Ghost Falls was no scary specter but a peaceful cascade of winding water.
Ghost Falls was no scary specter but a peaceful cascade of winding water.

Only a fool heeds the warning of fools.

We had heard from an acquaintance that most of the bikers frequenting Corner Canyon are jerks. However, we found them to be exactly the opposite. We encountered some of the friendliest, most helpful riders we’ve ever come across while on these trails. Many of them stopped to assist us with directions unsolicited. I guess we reeked of pathetically lost.

The view coming down the Ghost Falls Trail was quite lovely.
The view coming down the Ghost Falls Trail was quite lovely.

Nirvana is not just a state of being, it’s a state of pedaling and it can be reached. Our Corner Canyon adventure opened our third eyes along with our fourth and fifth ones too. Now that I can see so darn well, I predict that Jason and I will find our centers, or the sandy ground, in Corner Canyon again soon.

Rachel June 19, 2013 No Comments

Half Full of Thanks

On New Year’s Eve, my brother Drew and his wife Simone decided to sign up for the Thanksgiving Point Half Marathon in order to increase their chances of sticking to their resolution to get in shape. Honestly, when I heard that they’d registered for this event I was a little skeptical. It takes some determined training to get ready for a half marathon and I wasn’t sure if they had it in them. But any chance for them to chicken out clucked away with a click of our mouse. At the end of February, we, along with our friend Jeremy, added our own names to the registration list thus making it impossible for Drew and Simone to back out gracefully…and simultaneously impossible for us to retreat without disgrace.

We did most of our longer training runs with Andrew and Simone. The many miles go faster with some chatter.
We did most of our longer training runs with Andrew and Simone. The many miles go faster with some chatter.

While the largeness of our group convinced us that this race would be a winner, Jason and I had some apprehensions about finishing it as losers. Since the event was so early in the spring, we were a little concerned that the weather would inhibit our ability to prepare for it properly. Just train indoors you say? Are you aware that jogging 10 miles around a track would require roughly 70 laps and would likely be about as exciting as listening to an insurance policy manual on tape? I think I’ll pass but if you like extreme monotony by all means give that revolving tedium a whirl. As it turns out, for us, no worry over weather was warranted. Our outdoor workouts ended up working out. Sure, we had to dash in rain, snow and frost but we also got to sprint in some pretty darn perfect conditions. Jason and I stuck to our training regimen like filthy flies on fresh poop. We ran 4X a week with an extended session every Saturday. At the peak of our training, this totaled to 24 miles per week. Admittedly, it was a little tiring donning our tennis shoes for those distances but the main problem with our program was actually the time involved. Extra-long runs take an extra-long time. Our perseverance and sacrifice paid off though. We were ready and confident come race day.

No, my enthusiasm did not last but my legs did.
No, my enthusiasm did not last but my legs did.

This half marathon stays entirely on the Thanksgiving Point property. From paths around their tranquil gardens to trails on their swanky golf course, you’d be hard-pressed to find a prettier run. However, being pretty has a price. Usually that drawback is narcissism or an expensive shopping habit but, in this case, it’s hills. The half marathon routes we’ve done before have primarily descended but this one makes you struggle up for every step it lets you ease down. Talk about an incline infestation!

Spring flowers created a landscape of color all around us runners.
Spring flowers created a landscape of color all around us runners.

This course may have its ups and downs but the weather while we scurried along it was solely an upper. The conditions were ideal! Unlike my last half marathon, which ended with dehydration followed by puking, I did not overheat. I wised up after that experience and carried a water bottle with me this time to encourage liquid uptake; the pleasant temperatures did the rest. Barf really doesn’t make the best trophy; sure it’s showy but it kind of stinks.

At the nine mile point, the path went up a giant hill. Ugh! I wasn't the only one that struggled up that incline; I noticed two vomit puddles on its slopes.
At the nine mile point, the path went up a giant hill. Ugh! I wasn’t the only one that struggled up that incline; I noticed two vomit puddles on its slope.

I completed the race after 2 hours and 25 minutes. This beat my former time of two and a half hours and met my goal. I was pleased with myself and very proud of all the other runners in our group. Jason crossed the finish line at 1 hour and 47 minutes. His objective was to finish in less than 2 hours and he definitely succeeded. Drew and Jeremy came in only 6 seconds apart right around 2 hours and 13 minutes. And Simone was about 10 minutes behind me. Way to go everyone!

Jason's exuberant thumb reflected the quickness of his run.
Jason’s exuberant thumb reflected the quickness of his run.
From these pictures it's apparent that I was zoned out through most of the race. Hey, when you have over 13 miles to conquer Rachel Land ain't a bad place to be.
From these pictures it’s apparent that I was zoned out through most of the race. Hey, when you have over 13 miles to conquer Rachel Land ain’t a bad place to be.

I don’t know if it was the race’s many hilly miles or just my body’s many years of miles but the rest of the day, following the event, my hips and knees were pretty sore. It hurt to sit and it hurt not to sit so my options for avoiding pain were pretty limited. Jason fared no better. In fact, he suffered like a fussy baby without a binky and almost cried as much. My thigh muscles may have been grumpy about going down stairs for a few days but Jason’s calves reportedly felt like they were going to rip in half. I guess, considering his finishing time, he earned the right to be a little whiney. (And yes, in case you’re wondering, my calves are much tougher than his.)

Jason leaped like a gazelle as he neared the finish line. I don't know how he had bounds of energy left.
Jason leaped like a gazelle as he neared the finish line. I don’t know how he had bounds of energy left.
My finish was much less dramatic than Jason's...and considerably slower.
My finish was much less dramatic than Jason’s…and considerably slower.

My ankle, as my physical therapist predicted, handled this whole affair, including the prep workouts, pretty well. It would hurt after my lengthier runs and swell a little but it didn’t declare all-out war; I was satisfied with that precarious truce. Yeah for ankles that tolerate and can be tolerated!

I was proud of everyone in our group. Their diligence paid off.
I was proud of everyone in our group. Their diligence paid off.

The Thanksgiving Point Half Marathon was a great experience. I’m glad Drew and Simone initiated our participation with their hasty resolution. The race was lovely, though horizontally challenged, and our training for it went according to plan. Our large troupe provided added motivation and entertaining running buddies. Yup, misery really does like company even if that company is prone to dispense harassment. Peer pressure and persistence got us across the finish line with our dignity intact. It’s nice to be barely at the brink of summer and already in such great shape. Now we’ll just have to continue hitting the pavement in order to keep that shape from sagging into the recognizable silhouette of a bowl of Jell-O.

Rachel May 16, 2013 No Comments
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