Deflating Simplicity

"Be careful if you try and cross on logs, every year they are different and can easily trap you if you slip between them." -Karl Meltzer

A couple of days ago we (my crew and pacer and I) had a conference call to discuss the plan for my Hardrock 100 run.  Knowing GZ after nearly four years of reading his classy, deep blue abyss of a blog soaked with a diverse blend of cold data and warm philosophical insight, I felt obliged to at least give him (and the others involved in my race) the idea that I, in fact, had(ve) a plan.  Had I mentioned that my sole plan was to cross the finish and kiss (it's the only way to get an official finish) the hopefully new Hardrock mining rock (the finishing rock, hand-painted with the HR logo was in three pieces last year, barely held together with some brown, sticky goo, to which your lips would become hopelessly attached like licking frozen metal), they would have no doubt been disappointed and felt their contribution to the event diminished in many ways.  I owe them more than that.  I owe Hardrock more than that - more than my normal carefree, free spirit, laissez faire, non-committal, nomadic, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants, wing it approach to nearly everything in my life (didn't realize there were so many ways to say I suck at and dislike rigid planning, huh?).  I mean, this race literally nearly killed me twice; shouldn't I have some sort of plan?

So, with 20 minutes before the call, I set about plotting my "best case scenario" splits for the race.  Then, for inspiration, I glanced over at my Garmin GPS watch, a slave driving data tool and keyhole peep into the world of GZ where numbers mingle and build and form patterns that somehow make sense to someone with enough patience to follow their progress.  I forgot why I was looking at my GPS as the phone rang, or played a tinny segmented version of some Coldplay song, as it were.

It's great to hear GZ's voice and I'm reminded immediately of his run from his house to Bear Peak and back and of another day we had hopes of running several laps of Green Mountain, which ended after the third descent.  The memories of the activities themselves are muddled under the sometimes light and often heavy, dark-edged conversation.  We've silently acknowledged that we started out from similar points in life and diverged down (or up) vastly different paths, both partially envious of the other's lifestyle, yet content with his own.

During the call we discuss travel schedules, getting me up to 14,000 feet asap upon arrival, hotel arrangements, optional pacing start points for GZ, what Shaun should have ready for me as crew, the conditions of the course, the use of trekking poles, and anticipated splits.  Did I mention these are ambitious splits?

Last year, Karl Meltzer was kind enough to give me a "Hardrock Cheat Sheet" with information only someone intimately familiar with the course could produce.  It was valuable.  Since he doesn't have one for the clockwise direction we run this year, I agreed to write one and send it to him for tweaking and stamp of approval.  I'm at mile 33 currently…  It's difficult since I was basically unconscious for the last 12 hours of my race last year and barely remember anything lest I go back and re-read my race report.  Once I complete the clockwise cheat sheet and get the Speedgoat Master's approval, I'll share it with GZ to accompany my split chart.

More to come…