Treadmill Pain Threshhold

I started monitoring my heart rate during my runs because I wanted to have a base for future blogging experiments.  Instead of finding a baseline, I watched my heart rate reaching ridiculously high numbers.  When working at a good clip, but not completely out of breath, my heart rate climbs to 185 bpm.  If I really push myself, whether by speed or a hill climb, my pulse goes well beyond 200bpm.  I rarely feel light headed when this happens so I didn't think much of it.  But my husband and Mom pestered me about it constantly.  They wanted me to see a doctor, "just to make sure." So, I made the appointment.

The initial resting echo cardiogram said there was nothing wrong with my heart but my doctor was still very concerned about the numbers I was posting.  She referred me to a cardiologist who was to give me a treadmill stress test and an 24 hour holter to measure my heart.

I have seen numerous movies and pictures of treadmill stress tests over the years.  The patient is always smiling, young, females are fully clothed, and they show no sign of discomfort.  I had NO idea what I was in for!

Upon arriving at the cardiologist's waiting room, I sat amongst 10 other patients, all above the age of 60.  They kept looking at me awkwardly as I was clearly too young to be part of their "stint" club and my bright yellow shoes were obnoxious amongst their stoic attire.  I am sure they wondered what a fit girl was doing in that office and they pitied whatever the reason might be.

After waiting about 10 minutes, a technician called me back to the room where I was greeted with an ultrasound machine, 5 computers, and a treadmill that came from 1980.  The technician offered me new clothing for the test, which was a hilarious excuse for a "jacket."  Now I know why ALL the images on the Internet of treadmill tests are of men without a shirt.  I was to run with a mid-drift paper jacket, open to the front, with wires and patches covering a good portion of my chest and stomach.

The two women alternated taking my stats and hundreds of pictures of my heart at rest through the ultrasound machine.  When they left the room periodically, I watched my heart rate climb and settle with my breathing.  Out of pure boredom, I began to breath with different rhythms to see if I could adjust my heart rate with minimal effort.

Finally, it was time to jump on the treadmill.  Before I began, they told me two things: 1. There was an incredibly fit man yesterday that broke the time record for the last few weeks lasting 15:23.  They doubted I could beat him.  (Most people only last up to 10 minutes.)  2. They started at a 10% incline and it would go up 2% every 2-3 minutes while the tread sped up at the same increment.  Thus began the strangest workout I've ever endured.

We began really slowly.  I started at a 10% incline, but walked at a 15 minute per mile pace.  Within 2 minutes, I was speed walking at a 12% incline, and by 6 minutes I was slowly jogging at a 14% incline.  I watched my heart rate settle in the 160 range for a few minutes, but the second we passed the 16% incline, it climbed like mercury in a meat thermometer.  I am not sure if they were actually testing my heart rate, or my pain threshold.  Other than passing out completely, or vomiting violently all over the archaic treadmill, how would we know when I reached my absolute, top heart rate?

I have an incredible pain capacity.  I birthed both my boys completely naturally.  I didn't have so much as an IV in my arm, nor did I ever scream out in pain or curse at my husband as all the movies promote.  After 12 minutes of running up a steep mountain side, I was hurting, I wanted to stop.  I ran while tightly gripping the padded handle bar, petrified that I was going to fall off the 20% incline and make a complete fool out of myself - paper jacket splayed open on the floor.  I lasted 16:02.  The techs were thoroughly excited by this achievement but I just wanted to vomit as I felt my heart try to beat out of every pressure point in my head, neck, arms, and legs.  When I stopped, it wasn't because they told me to, I gave into the pain.  Ta Da!  We found my pain threshold!  My ending heart rate was 192 bpm.

Without a cool down, they literally helped me jump from the moving treadmill back onto the examination table where I got another series of ultrasound pictures.  I am sure the pictures of my heart looked like a fish out of water gulping for air at this point, so I shamefully adverted my eyes.

Next, I was fitted with my 24 hour holter.  Again, I was given only two instructions: 1. DO NOT SHOWER! 2. Do everything like you normally would.  If you go for a run at 6 am, do it, just do NOT shower!  Gross.

When I got home, my oldest son thought I was the coolest thing since the Transformers.  "With all those wires, Mom, you look like Cybotron!" Um, thanks dear, whoever that is...?

 

I slept fine that night with my little pocket computer, 5 patches, and numerous wires covering my chest.

The next morning I needed to go for a 3 mile run.  My doctor told me weeks ago to really go for it.  She said, "It doesn't matter if you wear the holter if you don't prove what is happening to your heart.  Make a game to see how high you can get your heart rate to climb."  My husband helped me pack my running Camelbak with the monitor, snapped a few pictures out of humor, and I set off with my dog.

Tucker LOVED this run.  I didn't have to remind him to behave himself once.  We set off at a good clip, averaging 8:00 miles, climbing up 3-9% grades throughout the route.  I felt my heart rate climb, so I pushed harder.  I didn't want the test to be inconclusive.  At the top of the hills I felt a bit faint and thought I might barf up my freshly consumed Cliff Bar a few times, but I made it home, finishing the route faster than I have ever run it before.

Finally, there was one small issue - I sweat a lot when I run.  I don't sweat during the run, but when I stop, especially if I pushed myself, I am drenched.  At 12:30pm I needed to drop Ethan off at school, where I go into the classroom and speak to teachers and numerous parents.  Not showering was NOT going to happen!   I didn't take a real shower, but I carefully made myself feel alive again.

By 2:45pm the monitor timed out and I was free. I don't know when I will get the results.  I was hoping I would get them before I leave on Saturday for the Vegas Rock 'n' Roll Half Marathon, but I doubt that will happen.  As of now, all I know is that my heart rate is really high when I exercise (Thanks for that revelation, Doc!).  Other than the extremely high beats per minute, my heart sounds and looks good.  I am happy with those results, but I am not sure what they are going to say about bringing my heart rate down.  My doctor informed me that having such a high heart rate for many years is asking for a heart attack when I am 40-50 years old.  I don't like the idea of long term medications, but I am also not going to stop running, nor will I stop pushing my limits improving times and distances. 

East West Trail

Two weeks after running the Backcountry Half Marathon, I decided to run some of the same trails again, this time solo.  I was amazed as to how strong I felt.  My latest half really built muscle and increased my cardio capacity.  I ran a total of 10 miles and during that time, I only saw one other person - a biker.  It astounds me that I can be so close to civilization, and see only one person.  These trail are so accessible, I am amazed people don't use them more.  Maybe it is the pest problem... ;)

The Backcountry Trails are an intricate web of dirt single track trails mixed with some wider groomed dirt.  They are well maintained and only Highlands Ranch residents are allowed on site.  I took lots of pictures today, hoping the views might inspire other residents to brave some new territory. 

There was a rather large brown cloud over Denver today.  We haven't had much wind to blow it away.  But the views were still worth while.  I was standing at the edge of a sea of houses.  Behind me are thousands of acres of open space.

My earphones broke weeks ago and I haven't had the energy to find new ones that actually fit.  I ran music and Garmin free.  Of course I brought my phone in my backpack and snapped some pictures, but I enjoyed the quiet and was left with my thoughts following a wonderful Thanksgiving filled with family.

I lived in Highlands Ranch for 6 years before I knew any of this existed.  I had no idea what I was missing.  It is interesting how running allows you to learn and appreciate the intricacies of your home geography.  I have become so familiar with every main trail-line in the town, how they connect, approximate distances, meeting points, detours, and yet I continue to find new trails weekly.

I love these trails because I feel like I am a part of something much bigger than me.  I can see all of Denver, the Rocky Mountains, the Great Plains, and beautiful plateaus.  These buttes remind me of the wild west.





I felt great 6 miles into my run when I came across my old friends from She Who Runs with Cows gets a Fist Full of Poop.  At first sight of them, my heart dropped.  I panicked running through hundreds of them less than a month ago, but I had my husband to keep me company.  This time I was alone and not wanting a similar encounter.  I approached cautiously and almost jumped for joy when I saw the fence dividing us.

The views from the top of Wildcat Mountain are stunning.  I didn't make it to the top today as I am running the Rock 'n' Roll Vegas Half Marathon next weekend.  While I felt great, I wanted to leave some in the tank.

There is a vast open space that divides Castle Pines and Highlands Ranch.  If you stand on the edge of the trail system, you can see all of Highlands Ranch to the north and open untamed plains to the south.  I prefer running on trails any day over roads and pavement.  At this point in my loop, I ran about 7 miles.

After Vegas, I am taking a break from racing for a few months.  I raced all spring and summer, and finished the season with 4 half marathons and one duathlon in 2.5 months.  I look forward to hitting the trails without purpose again.  I won't have to push a certain pace or maintain a distance schedule.  I feel freest when I can turn in a new direction, see where it takes me, and wind up running 13 miles when I planned on 8.  Running without my Garmin today made me feel freer than I have in months.  It might just have to be shelved for a while.

Running from my kids

Everything I need to know about running, I learned from my kids...

• Run for fun.  It is more fun to run around the house, yard, store, zoo, mall, etc... than walk.  (Even if your mommy reminds you it isn't polite.)

• Take short, choppy strides.  It feels better on your feet and knees.

• Look both ways when crossing the street.

• Smile while you run.  It just looks better that way.

• Everything in life is a race.  Racing proves how big you are growing compared to the other kids. 

• Celebrate each victory!

• Applaud others for their efforts.  High fives all around make it a more exciting finish.

• If you loose a race, it is best 2 out of 3.  If you loose the second race, it is best 3 out of 5, and so on...

• Run in any clothes.  Adults run in running shoes, shorts, or technical shirts.  Jeans, bare feet, boots, and heavy jackets are just as good.

• Start slow, then pass everyone like crazy when they are tired from starting too fast!

• Make sure you pick shoes that look fast.  If you think you look fast, you will be faster.  Jump up and down in the store when you buy them to make sure they don't hurt your feet.

• Running isn't always pretty.  Your arms may flail inefficiently, or you may throw your head around awkwardly, but all that matters is how you feel.

• Running is better with company.  If you see someone running, take off after them immediately so you don't miss something good.

• Toys and other obstacles provide awesome track and field training.

• Stretch after you run.  It feels great.

• You are never too sick to run.

• It doesn't matter how far or how fast you run.  All that matters is you did it.  

Tofu Smoothie?

Okay, yes I know.  I am tofu-crazy!  But here is one more recipe that I really love and if you give it a chance, I know you will too!  After blending the tofu into the smoothie, you don't even know it is there.  It adds an extra creamy texture that is often mistaken for ice cream when I don't tell people what is in it first.  Oh, and my kids love it.  Little do they know they are getting a wonderfully sneaky helping of protein!  After combining the Greek yogurt to 1/5 a package of tofu, you get 28g of protein!

Tofu Strawberry Smoothie

1 Cup Strawberries
1/2 Cup Raspberries
1 Ripe Banana
1/4 cup sliced extra soft tofu
1 Cup Orange Juice (Feel free to change from orange juice to pineapple juice for extra anti-inflammatory benefits.
1 Cup Greek Yogurt (I prefer Choboni Strawberry or Raspberry for this recipe)

Combine all the ingredients into a blender.  Blend on high speed for at least 1 minute.

Enjoy!

An investment in time

Ethan asked me this morning what I am thankful for.  He knows Thanksgiving is right around the corner and his school is spending the entire month expressing thanks.  I immediately answered, "I am thankful for my family.  I am thankful that I have two wonderful boys, and a husband that loves us dearly."  But when Ethan responded with, "I am thankful my grandparents are still alive," it threw me for a loop.  He explained some kids at school told him they don't have any grandparents and how sad that made him.  "Wouldn't that be just awful, Mommy?"  Yes.  Yes it would.  Both my parents and my husband's parents are alive and healthy.  I too am thankful for that, but I have always just considered it status-quo.  Of course they are alive.  They will always be here. 

That got me thinking.  I often imagine my boys graduating high school and college, moving out into a place of their own.  But I never give the thought of what it would be like to have grandchildren of my own - a true reflection of my hard work as a mother.  I need to stay healthy and vibrant for my boys and their future children.  My boys are still quite young, only 1.5 and 4.5 years old, so I know I have a long time to worry about these things, but my health today is an investment in generations decades from now. 

The next time someone asks me why I run, I am going to tell them I do it for me, my kids, and my future grandchildren.  Running is my investment in time.

Backcountry Wilderness Half Marathon

Heading into the Backcountry Wilderness Half Marathon I had two goals: watch my heart rate monitor, and don't get hurt.  I wanted to recover easily for the Rock 'n' Roll Vegas Half in less than 3 weeks.  Adding to the stress, my heart rate has climbed to extremely high rates over the last couple months, leaving me a strict doctor's order to keep it under 185 beats per minute.  My doctor scared me enough that day to take her warnings seriously.  "You may feel good, but your heart is not.  You are on your way to a heart attack!"  I wanted a good work out.  I wanted to experience the racing environment that I crave, but I didn't want permanent damage. Therefore it wasn't going to be a race that I would go all out and take a stand to prove my running abilities.  My 24-hour echo cardiogram, and stress test are scheduled for next week.  Until then, it was about enjoying the ride.

Freezing before the race!

Randall and I ran the Backcountry Half together.  He said he wanted me to pace him so that he didn't go all out and regret it later when he was too sore to move.  But I know why he stayed, he didn't trust I would watch my heart rate monitor closely enough.  I knew he was babysitting me when he tried to take off a few times in the first couple miles and when I didn't follow, he slowed, looked around for me, and ended up letting me take the lead.  Once we hit Monarch Blvd, we settled into our pace and I was glad Randall was there.  He provided great company and camaraderie, making me laugh when it hurt.

I applaud the Highlands Ranch Race Director for making a route that was somehow uphill for the majority of the first 11 miles.  That couldn't have been easy!  Our map clearly defined the inclines, but until you run a course from start to finish, it is impossible to appreciate the ascents.  The course was extremely well planned.  The first 2-3 miles were contested on larger paths and dirt roads, allowing racers to pass easily and move into their projected pace groups.  By the time the trails narrowed to single track, passing was less of an issue and racers were polite, moving aside to let faster runners charge through.

After we reached the top of Monarch Blvd, the wind pelted our faces and a hard packed sleet assaulted our cheeks and ears.  I was not the only runner to moan at the pain of those sadistic, little ice balls.  I picked up the pace throughout those rolling hills, just to escape the torment of the cold; but my pulse fenced me in and I ended up slowing down again before crossing Daniel's Park Rd.  Once we reached the other side of Daniel's Park, the wind stopped.  Running through the scrub oak was majestic as the snow flakes politely fell on our faces.  A fellow runner took the lead, pacing us through the next 2 miles, and as he pushed to the front he laughed, "I am so glad I am not on the couch right now!"

I felt the best between miles 7 and 11.  I was in my element and my heart rate settled right at 177 beats per minute.  I no longer glanced at my watch every 30 seconds to monitor my heart.  I took in the views, listened to my breath, joked with Randall here and there, and enjoyed the up and down of the rocky trails.  The Douglas County Search and Rescue crews made up the majority of the volunteers on the course and they kept spirits high with their great smiles and hilarious comments.

We charged through the final 3 miles at an 8:00 to 8:30 pace.  I felt like a gazelle galloping down the slopes, jumping rock-to-rock, until we made the hard pavement for the final mile.  My body was so adjusted to the textures of the trail, that the hard cement really threw me for a loop.  We continued our sub 9 minute pace to the finish, but I was clearly tired.  Once I saw the Colorado Race Timing finish line, I smiled.  That smile stayed plastered to my face for the last quarter mile.  As we charged up the final ascent to the finish, spectators cheered, chanted, and made me laugh through the finish.  Their spirits gave me the last push I needed to finish strong.  One spectator saw I was smiling and screamed, "She's smiling!  She still has it in her!  Go smile to the END!"

That finish was an accomplishment.  I felt really good throughout the race and I did as I promised my doctor.  I didn't take any unreasonable risks, but I felt I finished strong.  We crossed in 2:07, only 7 minutes slower than the Denver Rock 'n' Roll Half and the Boulder Half a few weeks prior.  The trails were tough and the climbs relentless.  I needed to buy new Pure Connects a month ago, as the cushioning is gone, but I didn't because I had too many races to risk breaking in new shoes.  By the end of this race, my feet were blistered and my shoes were trashed. 

The finisher's party was really small, but I understand how hard it must be for a race director to get companies and volunteers for a race that is this small, cheap, and cold.  There was ample water at the finish and enough C.B. and Potts pizza rolls for everyone to have a couple.  I wish they would have placed the finishers dog tags around our necks as we finished, but they were clearly busy with other tasks and quickly remedied the mistake.  Once we received our dog tags, we headed to the warmth of the car.  I was shivering uncontrollably and needed warmth fast.

Before heading home to the kids, we stopped for lunch.  As we ordered, I was still shivering so severely, the waitress thought I was truly crazy.  "I didn't think it was that cold outside!" she snickered.  I told her we just finished a race and I was frozen from the finish.  Her eyes widened looking at me like I was crazy.  Some people just don't get it!

Finally, we headed home and I put our youngest son, Owen, down for a nap.  Next, it was time for us to rest.  We never rent movies, but after the race, we made an exception.  Randall, Ethan, and I all curled up on the bed in our basement, to watch Ethan's movie he's wanted for weeks.  Randall and I quickly fell asleep.  After a short nap, Randall whispered in my ear, "My body hates me.  My knees hate me.  My ankles are begging, 'why?' I think my blood is pooling! But it was worth it.  Thanks for running with me, Jen."

Tofu Stir Fry

I used to be terrified of tofu.  But watching my 4 and 1 year old sons suck it down like blocks of noodles made me think, "If they can eat it, I'll give it a try."  As I ventured into the world of vegetarianism, I had no where to hide.  If you want a good protein source, that is easily digestible, tofu is a perfect option.

Cooked tofu doesn't have the same slimy texture as the raw stuff, so if you are a bit squeamish about it, try this recipe as it is a huge crowd pleaser whenever I offer it to friends and family.

Teriyaki Tofu Stir Fry

1 Pound Extra Firm Tofu (sliced in 1/2 inch strips)
1 Tbsp Extra Virgin Olive Oil
2 Bell Peppers (sliced thin)
1 Bunch Broccoli (trimmed and cut into bite-sized pieces)
1/2 Cup Peeled Edamame Beans (frozen are fine)
1/2 Cup Baby Carrots (sliced thin)
Salt and Pepper to Taste
1/4-1/2 Cup Teriyaki Sauce

Heat the extra virgin olive oil in a wok (or large pan) at medium high heat.  Add the strips of tofu and let brown for about 5 minutes.  Season the tofu with salt and pepper while it cooks.  Flip the tofu once it is golden brown and season again.  Remove the tofu to a bowl.

Add the veggies to the pan and cook for about 5 minutes, or until tender.  Season lightly.

Return the tofu to the wok with the vegetables.  Add enough teriyaki sauce to cover all the veggies and tofu.  (I prefer the brand Soy Vay.  I find it at Kroger stores and it has more authentic flavor than the other store brought brands.)  Continue to cook until the sauce is nice and thick.

Serve over hot brown rice.  Enjoy!

Racing Heart

I started wearing a heart rate monitor about a month ago.  Every once in a while I glanced at the numbers and was stunned by how high they were.  I didn't feel tired, weak, or frail as my heart rate pushed into the 200s.  But the numbers scared me enough to keep an eye out for trends.  When I run at an easy pace, 9:30-10:00 miles, my heart rate settles between 167-175 beats per minute.  However, when I peak a steep hill and start the decent, or push my pace into the 8 minute range, my heart shoots into the 200s within seconds.

A few days ago I saw my doctor.  She hooked me up to an EKG and said everything looked really good at rest.  The only concern was that my blood pressure was extremely low, 80/50, and my resting heart rate was rather high, especially for someone who exercises regularly.  The lab drew a few viles of blood and my doctor ordered stress tests and a 24-hour test, which I have yet to complete.  She thinks my heart rate compensates for my extremely low blood pressure, so we need to figure out why my blood pressure is dangerously low.

Heading out the door, she encouraged me to take it easy.  "Don't let your heart rate climb above 180!" she reminded me.  "If you have to race this weekend, take it easy.  Don't race, just finish!"  

The Backcountry Half Marathon is only 3 days away.  I worked really hard training for this race as I do all of my races.  My husband and I ran the Backcountry whenever we earned a few minutes away from the boys.  I scaffolded my training appropriately.  I always make conscience decisions about food choices.  And more than anything, I ran my pants off for the last few months.  My doctor told me very sternly to wear a heart rate monitor during the race and glance at it every few minutes.  If my heart starts creeping towards the 170 range, back down, walk, and when it is significantly lower, begin again.  She didn't tell me not to run, just watch it.

First of all, I don't want to hurt myself.  So of course I will heed the advice appropriately.  However, running with a monitor really takes all of the fun out of racing.  Races are about challenging your body and pushing your limits.  Under doctor's orders, there are no limits to test, just a 13.1 mile run to complete.  Of course I knew I wasn't going to win the race even if I pushed really hard.  There are crazy good runners that will show up, ultra marathoners that will eat this race like a 6 minute per mile snack.  But I love seeing what I can do.  I don't race against the other runners, I compete against myself.  The race is about improving, seeing how far I can run up 12% inclines without tiring; bounding like a gazelle through the trails' rollers.  Racing shouldn't be about studying a watch and letting it decide my limitations.

If you aren't pushing your limits, testing your training, what is the point of a race?  I am disappointed and worried about my heart.  I am young and in the best shape of my life.  But my body is clearly sending me signals to rest for a while.  This Saturday, I will toe the line.  I will extinguish any competitiveness within me and see the race as a nice opportunity to run the most beautiful city trails in Colorado amongst some of the best people.

She Who Runs With Cows Gets a Fist Full of Poop

Because the Highlands Ranch Backcountry Half Marathon is only a week away, Randall and I wanted to taper at an easy trail 15 minutes from our home.  I never ran this specific trail before, but I heard countless stories describing its epic beauty for weeks before the run.  "There are amazing views of Denver, the Rocky Mountains, and rolling plains," Randall boasted.  After leaving our kids with Randall's parents, we drove to the top of Wildcat Mountain, right above Highlands Ranch.

The run started simple enough.  We ran at an easy incline to the top of a ridge with a spectacular view.  It was everything Randall described and more.  We had a 180 degree view of the front range, Denver Tech Center, and Denver itself.  Eager to keep our blood pumping, we stopped only briefly and circled back around to the main trail.

About half way down, Randall pointed to a trail at the bottom of a valley.  "That's where we're headed!" he said.  "Um, the trail that is covered in cows?" I replied unenthusiastically.  My husband reassured me the cows would move and he's run this trail before - lumbering beasts never posed any real threat.

A mile later, we ducked through some scrub oak around a tight bend in the trail.  On the other side of the corner stood a 2,000 pound beast, starring us down without manner.  At that point, I half joked it was time to turn around and find another route.  But the cow moved away as we ran closer, proving Randall's theory temporarily correct.  However, I learned cows travel in packs and after passing that one simple creature, we found ourselves locked into a herd so tight there was no where to lurch but forward.

Stupidly, we ran instead of walking, hoping our rapid pace would scare them out of our way, but as we clumsily passed each massive obstacle, now numbering more than 30 cattle, they became less passive and showed fewer signs of backing down.

Finally, we approached a creek at the bottom of the valley.  The creek was only a few inches deep, but getting down to the water was tricky.  There was a muddy and poop ridden ledge on either side of the water about 3 feet high and the creek itself was over 7 feet wide.  Randall wanted to jump the entire thing, ledge to ledge, but unlike my long jumping husband, I am not 6 feet tall.  I am 5'4".  I found a dry enough patch, jumped to the water, waded through urine and fecal matter, and climbed back up the other side.  I proceeded running around some bushes and immediately found myself face-to-face with 50 cows.

They were everywhere.  I have never seen so many cows up close.  They were literally inches from our faces and while most didn't seem impacted by our existence, I was plagued with fear caused by, "When Animals Attack."  There were just too many to feel safe.  One in particular was hiding behind a large bush of scrub oak; she looked at me with menacing eyes so eery I wanted to pee myself.  I begged Randall to turn around, I was done.  I didn't want to navigate a trail containing an unknown number of creatures larger than my Subaru sedan.  Cows occupied the trail and every inch around the trail for a good half mile. I begged Randall to turn around, laughing and crying in my terror. 

Randall reassured me I was being dramatic.  "Cows don't hurt people, Jen!  They are perfectly safe animals who are too slow to hurt a fly."  However, just as his words flew offensively from his lips, the nearest cow got up quicker than a jack rabbit on steroids.  She leaped from her position and charged forward towards Randall.  "Now we RUN!" Randall screamed passionately.  Randall took off sprinting, but I couldn't move.  I was paralyzed like a deer in the headlights.  I couldn't escape the horrific image of a cow raming my butt repeatedly with her head while I helplessly bucked forward.  I contemplated my options: if I followed Randall, I would be turning my back to her, thus giving her a real attack opportunity.  If I turned back the way we came, it meant wading back through a fecal swamp and the 50 cows I already passed.  Seeing Randall run 75 paces ahead of me left me feeling alone and made my mind up for me.  I quickly caught up to him and by the time we freed ourselves from the bovine gontlet, I knew I was going to have a heart attack.

My heart rate was over 200 beats per minute.  I could feel the pounding of my heart through every pressure point in my body.  I was horrified and shaking uncontrollably.  Worse, Randall was laughing so hard he was collapsing under his own weight.  We stood there taking in the view, laughing and calming my nerves for about five minutes and then we moved forward.

The next 3 miles were relatively uneventful.  We were jumpy because our nerves were already on high alert.  I saw a large spider in the middle of the trail.  I called, "Spider!" and dodged him, but for some reason, Randall heard, "SNAKE!" and pounced off the trail before the imaginary rattler could pierce his achilles.

Finally, we looped back around and approached the herd from the opposite end.  We passed an introverted bovine in the bushes, but somehow after we passed her, we were instantly surrounded by 50 cows.  A large speciman decided to humiliate us further by challenging us directly.  We paused, took a step forward, paused, and watched her reaction.  She grunted, stepped towards us, stopped, cocked her head in mockery, and moved forward again.  Randall grabbed a large switch off of a bush, but when she saw that direct act of aggression, her eyes widened.  "PUT THE STICK DOWN, RANDALL!" I pleaded.   

Within 2-3 minutes of this confrontation, there were cows all around us, pooping in every direction, and sharing the same breathing space.  We took our time approaching our challenger and after a while she balked.  She turned and followed the trail where we wanted to go, but at least we felt less intimidated by her backside.  When she found her exit point, we moved into a field of 75 more cows, tiptoed our way through and returned to the dismal water hole.

Because of the angle of the stream, we couldn't cross it the same way we did initially.  It was a bit lower now and jumping straight across wasn't as simple.  I went downstream about 20 feet and lowered myself to the bank.  Carefully placing my feet on some emerged stones, I navigated my way to the other side, placed my foot on the muddy bank and put my weight into the hill.  Slipping deep into the mud, I clawed at the slippery slope, trying to keep my hold.  I scratched for dear life like a panicked cat, literally using my finger nails to grip the mud so that I would avoid going completely into a stream of unknown excrament.  Reaching the top of the hill, I found my final grip - a giant pile of cow poop. 

I sat on the edge of the bank screaming, laughing, and crying.  "Cow poop!  AHHHH!  Cow poop!"  Randall crossed the river, after planting his shoe in a giant stool.  He collapsed by my side, laughing hysterically.  We sat on the river bank for a good 10 minutes laughing.  We were covered in mud and poop, we were another couple miles from the car and 15 minutes from home.  Randall promised this run would be epic, mind blowing perhaps.  Sadly, it was not the views that blew my mind.