Vol State Race finish

After a fun Wednesday and it began to draw to a close, I found myself sitting in the bed of the truck in a cemetery once again, this time about 6 miles out of Tracy City in the dark of the mountains in the Burns Cemetery. I giggled to myself sitting in the back of the truck at the crazy things that have occurred this past week. David and I have had a lot of fun, even though it's been tense and stressful at times (well alot of the time). I've been focusing on getting the miles in each day, staying on the route, blister maintenance, sunscreen use, and the multitude of other things to keep my body in check, as well as David trying to make sure we have all the supplies we need at just the right times brought us serious and intense moments.....but lots of fun ones as well. 

On this particular night (to be the last night of this adventure) David had decided to sleep on his blow up mattress on the ground this time instead of on the bed of the truck. He worries about Buddy falling off the truck while we sleep, so the ground it will be tonight, for him. I'm still in the bed of the truck on my yoga mat and I'm okay with it.

This beds a little wobbly

David had his air mattress all set up in the grass, but the grass had not been mowed in awhile, so I suggested he might move it to the gravel road instead. Maybe that would be less bugs? He did, and placed his pillow down all nice and neat, all while Buddy inspected their sleeping arrangements. David commented that if someone were to drive down the road of the cemetery to a gravesite, then he would be there on his bed in the way. It's a small cemetery, it's late Wed night, and whose really coming to visit someone tonight? As we readied for bed and reviewed our game plan for Thursday - the day of the finish - we discussed the turns on the route and the time I would set sail on the road early in the morning to try and beat the traffic and beat the heat. Then, all of a sudden, a small SUV pulls in the cemetery and drives right up to David's bed. Buddy is running around like a lunatic dog not on a leash (we were pretty far back from the highway) and he's loyal and stays close. But now Buddy is running around their car tires all while David runs over to his air mattress and pulls it off the little gravel road so they can drive by. The people in the car stare at us, at our truck, and at all our things scattered about, the stroller, and all our madness in it's crazy glory. They look with complete wonder and shock. All I can think is, 'Yep, they are calling the police on us for sure'. 

They sneer at us, and after we get Buddy from under their car tires, they drive a touch further towards the back of the cemetery. Their car door(s) open and it's like a clown car. 6 or 8 people jump out and walk quickly to the gravesite that they are there to see. It's still light outside, barely. We are watching them. They are watching us. After they had been there awhile, and seemingly not leaving soon, David says to me, "I need to poop". Can you hold it, I ask. No, he says, I've been needing to go since they arrived and they are not leaving. Now there is no where you can potty and not see another person in this cemetery. Nowhere to hide. If he were to potty, they would see him in plain site. He's dancing around the truck wondering what to do, when I see him take his air mattress and cover the bottom part of the truck, and proceed to the front of the truck to do his business, I knew he was going to try to do this without them seeing him do this. There was really no other choice. I'm still sitting in the bed of the truck watching it all like it's a movie. 

David comes back around to the truck, grabs a plastic bag, and proceeds to pick things up. You already know he's King Poo and known for his picking up of the poo. But never his own, outside much less. To make matters worse, Buddy is trying to get to it, and it's just another literal $hit show out here on the road. 

Now David is walking around with a smelly bag, Buddy is chasing him, and we are wishing the visitors would leave (and they are wishing we would leave). But finally, they do get back in the car and drive by us. I never even look at them as they drive past. I could only imagine what they were thinking. I wanted to yell "I'm in a race and this makes sense!" but that would only make us look crazier. I just can't help but laugh each time I imaging David pulling his air mattress out from in front of their car, chasing Buddy around, pooping and trying to handle waste disposal. I was very glad when those people/visitors left and we were alone again to do as we please. We were not a good site to see. We needed to be left alone to make more bad decisions because apparently we are good at that right now.

This gives you an idea of the late night planning

with Buddy falling asleep

As soon as darkness did fall, both David and I have readied ourselves for bed already and are exhausted. We have not had any kind of consistent sleep or rest in many days, and for that matter, have switched our days to nights, and our nights to days, flip flopping to manage the heat, miles and traffic. And now here we are, in the heated and humid cemetery full of flying and crawling bugs that we have never seen before thinking we will get some good rest. That's funny now that I think about it. But when your exhausted, it seems okay at the time. We are both asleep by 9 pm, with the darkness only interrupted by the light show in the sky. There's flickering, soft lightening with no thunder high above us. Kind of like a lightbulb not screwed in completely. I find it fascinating to watch, and finally close my eyes because my body makes me. 

I had set my alarm to wake up at 2:30 am to get on the road, but at 1 am, I am awakened by my bladder and need to find shoes and get off the truck with sore/stiff legs to tinkle somewhere. I don't even use my light and wander around hoping no snakes are in the area. That's how tired I am, that I don't really care anymore. I also potty Sugar with me, assuming she goes because I can't see to know. And back up on the truck we go. I think about going back to sleep, but no. Let's get this final day going. I'm heading to the Rock, and if I get out on the road now, there'll be less traffic for a long time.

I eat my banana and peanut butter and put my Altra running shoes on for the last time I will ever wear this pair. I have wore them out. I've slept in my dirty running clothes and still have my socks from yesterday on that covers all the blister bandaids I have on my feet. Probably about 12 of them, at least. Perfect, I won't need to be doing any foot maintenance because it's still the same as yesterday. A perk of not showering.

David is rustling around, quietly knowing what I'm doing. He knows me well. He knows I'm heading out. I trust he will get up on his own accord and perform one last day of crewing duties. I have supplies in my cart to be out on the road for a few hours anyway. Sugar and I head out for the last day together in Tennessee to cover close to 30 miles, mostly mountains. 

It's the last day, right mom?

Perking up for the final push 

I'm actually very proud of her tenacity

I love running in the dark, on roads with no cars (very few cars). Yes, some of the cars that pass me slow down and some even stop and question my sanity. I continue. I ignore them. I stay in my lane and do my own thing. I have no time for people right now. Some of these said people in the cars have not good intentions at 2 and 3 am. I make sure they understand I am not who they are looking for. This requires confidence and annoyance at their presence. Be gone, is the energy I give to them. 

I round the corner coming into Jasper out of the mountain and see the truck that had hit the guard rail. It had its bumper hanging off, with truck parts strone all about the road. I had heard this incident/accident happen in the quiet of the night, and sure enough, this truck with probably a tipsy driver did this to himself. All alone he sits in his truck wondering how he's going to explain this away. I leave him to his own set of problems as I too, have mine to manage. He watches me run by and never says a word. He's okay. He's just got a brand new problem in his life now. 

These last 10 miles from the cemetery to Jasper have been downhill and out of this particular mountain.

Don't be fooled that running down this is a breeze

These are easy miles that will land you with shin splints the size of golf balls. Respect the downs. That's important when you think you want to run hard down hill for miles. I enjoy them though, and come into Jasper feeling good.

amen

As I continue to move thru the town of Jasper, it's early in the morning and no one is out. I continue on, and find David there to direct me with the proper turns. I run by their courthouse, of course....

It was quite beautiful at 4 am

....and onward to my turn through town, now heading towards my next destination of Kimball. It's only about 5 miles from Jasper to Kimball and I'm in a trance just making my way there. Sugar is enjoying the quiet of the early morning and even runs more than usual because she can. It's almost like she knows this is it. This is the day. She's perked up and ready to go. She can feel my energy and we just keep going.

The miles go by quickly as it's dark and we are alone on the highway as people are not up and moving just yet. But it's getting close to traffic time. We come into Kimball and now know the finish is close. Yes, it's about 15 miles UP from here, but that's okay. Part of the race rules are when you get to Mile 300 in Kimball, you are to stop at the Valley Inn and pick up a satellite tracker so the race people can watch you come up the mountain and they want to make sure 1) they are there, 2) you make it up, 3) if you get lost they can help redirect, and 4) watch the slow progress of the last of your suffering (this should have been #1 actually).

I find David at the Valley Inn and I pick up my tracker. 

I love how they tell me to keep it dry - and 
it's raining almost the whole way
up the mountain,

Now I know we are at the tail end of all this. It's kind of a sad moment. Yet happy. It's many feelings wrapped inside a tired and weary mind. David cheers me on, gives me exceptional directions (as there are many). It's easy to get lost during this time, as there are many turns. It happens to many people. You're tired and then you're lost. David was going to make damn sure I hit my turns, and he does it with grace.

Be sure and exit off the entrance ramp.
Uh, okay

Off I go with my tracker and my cart (with drink and food) but give Sugar to him for awhile to get her off the now busy roads. The big trucks scare her and I'm about to go against traffic on a bigger-than-usual highway that I will then have to exit off an entrance ramp and it would just be too much for her. It's almost too much for me.

I'm now on a highway that feels like Hwy 75 in Dallas, on the shoulder, going against traffic among the debris. I cannot get to that Entrance ramp fast enough and it feels like it will never come. Finally, I see it, and cars on coming onto the highway on it while I use it as my exit ramp to my next highway/turn. It's part of the route. There's no other way to go. This is all part of the deal.

I give a big sigh of relief once off that highway, and now make a few more little twists and turns to arrive at a Sonic where I meet David (who has a choc shake in his hand for me). This it the point where I'm really going to have to give up my cart to him, and he will fold it up and place it in the truck. The mountains are too steep and the shoulders are too small to even consider pushing a cart up. From here on out, it's me and my backpack. I make sure I have everything I need, or so I think, and off I go leaving everything I love behind in the truck.

Thank goodness highways are well marked

As I come out of the parking lot of Sonic, David takes a few photos of me and the 'blue bridge' I will cross over the Tennessee River to get to Sand Mountain. I'd crossed the Tennessee River once before, on one of my all night runs coming out of Parsons, I think it was 🧐

Cart gone, backpack on

Yeah, I see the rain ahead and hear the thunder.

Photos can't show all its beauty

This is the last Tennessee River crossing for me - on foot. It's so large and majestic. It's so wide, gorgeous and breathtaking. I feel such privilege to be having this experience. Being on foot allows for me to take it all in, slowly and fully. It's not a quick drive over the bridge. It's a long and enjoyable site-seeing tour instead.   

Over the Tennessee River for the last time

This bridge is a big deal for most everyone in the race. It signifies that you are now going to finish. It's a great landmark for photos. It's a feel-good place for all of us. And as I see it slowly disappear behind me, I make a turn and start heading up. Up and up and up and another turn. It's tedious and relentless. It's doable, it just teaches you patience. There's no running going on. Merely strong walking steps to propel you upward and forward. The difference in pace and step feels good despite the shortness of breath and strong breathing one might feel. 

This is a point in the race where you just keep moving. I know you think your not going anywhere and feel like you're crawling along, but just like in life, you can always go farther than you think you can, and just keep putting that foot out and taking that next step. You'll get there. And just when I find my rhythm, I also find a downpour of rain upon me. It feels good at first, but after awhile, I realize it's not stopping, I'm drenched and now I'm getting cold.

I start moving a little faster hoping to warm up my body a bit and also try and change my thinking to 'everything's okay and will be fine'. I continue on and try to put it all out of my mind. I have cars to keep constantly watching for as I'm going up the mountain against traffic, they are speeding down the mountain not knowing I am there in the tiny shoulder. Of course, over and over I have to step off the road as I hear cars coming from around the switchbacks and windy turns. Safety - and not causing an accident is imperative. 

Before I know it, David is driving down the mountain and pulls in a small business place with a small parking lot and has my rain jacket. I immediately put it on and know I will surely warm up now. I'm telling you, his crewing is everything. He makes my race luxurious. I have what I need. Thank you, David for being there. That was a pivotal time for me. Me and my wet shoes and wet feet keep moving. Up we go.

I'll just say at this point that I find myself reflecting on my experience thus far, looking at all the beauty around me, and overcome with gratitude that God has given me this ability to participate. I think about all my fellow blood cancer warriors who are fighting our fight. Those of us with polycythemia vera struggle with side effects of our blood cancer that can be cruel and unrelenting. The fact that God grants me the strength and ability to keep doing what I love brings me to tears. I cry while I move up the mountain. It's easy to ask Why Me when it comes to cancer. PV is considered rare and the 100,000 people who have it are who I am representing on this journey. Nobody in the race even knows. It's just me and the cancer community that understand what this all means. It means we are alive and doing what we love while we are given the time to do so. I have no time for pity. It slows me down, and I want to live my life doing all the things I desire. David lifts me up, encourages me to do so, and is beside me all while I keep going. This ones for you....those with blood cancer.....those of us that will never rid of it. This is for you. We can do hard things and will - until we can't any more.

I suppose I'd rather ulgy cry now on the mountain and get it over with in the rain before I reach Castle Rock. It's all very organic and my feelings process on their own. With my crying complete, I keep my strong and sturdy steps upward going. With what seems endless, does come to an end. I see my final turn up ahead. Only a couple more miles now.

At this point, I can get cell service again, and see that David is up ahead on this road that leads to the finish at Castle Rock. As I draw closer to the entrance of the ranch that is filled with seemingly endless acres of growing corn stalks, I see him. He, Buddy and Sugar are all on foot walking towards me to see me to inside the ranch gates, by which I will then hike on a dirt road through more turns, into the woods to find the final resting stop.

Beginning of the end

Crops as far as the eyes can see

I take Sugar and put her in my backpack. She's been with me 95% of these miles, and she and I will finish together. 

💗

We move down the dirt road coming upon homemade signs saying "only 1 more mile".......

Into the woods we go

Love the signs

and more signs

and it makes you realize you have no idea how more miles it is before you actually arrive at the finish.

But I do. I get there! 7 days and 3 hours 🏅

so close

I see the tents, I see the people, I see the father and daughter duo who had finished 45 minutes before I did, sitting and resting, dazed and still in a race-trance. I see the race director, Laz and his cohort, the ever famous Carl. And Laz's wife, Sandra is there. David is not there yet, but will be shortly, as Carl had given him special permission to drive to the finish line down that dirt road. 

The Most Beautiful Finish

Pure joy

This view

After getting to the stop sign at the very-homemade finish (which it's been this way for years) and also not falling off into the abyss below, I am ready to sit down. For real, sit down and not get up for awhile. Turns out, I was able to do so for quite a while, as David would end up driving Bill and his daughter, Skylar back down to Kimball to the ever-famous Valley Inn so they could rest and get some kind of taxi or uber ride to a local airport for which to get back home. He would drive back up the mountain and down the dirt road to get me and the dogs, as there was not enough room in the truck for all of us to have gone.

The Swag
Love the Woodallion

Turns out, that worked out well, as Laz and I sat there and chitty-chatted about doing trans-cons. He, too, has ran/walked across the U.S a couple of times. It's really hard to find somebody to talk to that "gets it". We talk as if we have a special language all our own about what it's like to make your way across America on foot. We talk and look into the other's eyes with complete understanding. We talk and we talk and we talk. This is a rarity to be able to talk on this level with someone who understands the desire to do this - and then actually do it. It's a conversation I will never forget. 

Talking to people in real life about multi day running races or trans continental crossings usually brings about judgement and misunderstanding, which is why I rarely talk about it at work or to people I don't know well. I prefer not to have to "explain" why I do what I do. That's why talking to Laz about it was so wonderful. He totally gets it, he's done it, and like me, wants to do it again and again.

I understand the "you don't get it until you've done it" philosophy, and I have wonderful people in my life of friends and family who support me and lift me up in regards to my seemingly unusual running activities. I try to blog and share my stories about these types of travels/events to illustrate that there are people in the world that enjoy these activities, like me, Laz, and others. And if there are people who'd like to read about the adventure and not go on the adventure, I'm here for you. 

My biggest conundrum about it all comes when I get back home to people who do not know me well and bring negativity to something I consider joyous (and often misunderstood because there's not information about this readily available at your fingertips). We know in life to surround ourselves with those that support us, encourage us, and love us as we are. 

I'm forever saying, 'I'm not for everybody'. I mean, I guess who is. I happen to like what I do. My goal is to share the love for what I do with others. And as humans, we dream. Realizing our dreams is that next step. I'm here to remind you that whatever you're dreaming about is something you can do. 

And with that, I'm so very grateful to have so many people who support my zest for all things "side of the road". Friends, family and more friends:  I want you to know that I feel your light and energy and that you send out in the world, and not just to me, but to those around you as well. I thank you for your calls, your texts, your blog replies and your prayers. I think God puts me in a big protection bubble each time I'm living on the side of road moving along the beautiful countryside meeting amazing people along the way. There's no other explanation. 

In the truck again with his 2 favs

Loves his chews

As I find myself back in a car (truck actually) and it's actually a moving vehicle for me now, I'm with my best friend and life partner who happens to be my husband, crew in life, and fellow cancer patient. My cup is full. There's no one I'd rather eat my feelings with. There's no one I'd rather potty outside in a cemetery with. There's no one I'd rather do anything with than you. I'm still fascinated with how David has stuck around so long with all my risk-taking and adventure-seeking ways. Go enjoy retirement now. I promise to resist the urge to create to-do lists. You have enough on you own 'lists' of things you desire to do. I always laugh when people act like you're going to be bored in retirement. That's a hilarious thought. Let's keep doing and doing and doing along with each other. I want you to be happy. And when we do step off the curb, let's celebrate that too.

Thanks for coming with! The question is not Why, but Why Not.

Cyndi 

Tribute to my Crew Chief 💙  'Thank you' does not even come close to words for how I feel 🙏

He claims I galamorize wild camping

👑💩

Random dogs are everywhere

He makes it all better

My boys

His last and final crew stop
down deep in the words
atop a mountain.
Thank you for 
making this all possible 💛