- I was still antsy
- I still made a few lists
- I still had some plans about how things should go
But I did not get out my gear bags. I did not set out nutrition to take. I left all that until later, as every time I thought about getting my bag packed for Colorado, I’ll admit it, I would tear up with fear and anticipation. How did I agree to this? (Maybe I felt a bit like K before the IM swim?) I don’t know that I can do this. But, just like Scarlett O’Hara, I just put it out of my mind – “Oh, I can't think about this now! I'll go crazy if I do! I'll think about it tomorrow… After all... tomorrow is another day!”
I made drop bags for my crew which kept me busy until 3 am Tuesday morning before Leadville. Then, I woke up at 7 and started packing. I packed and packed, and because I had no time to dwell on the future, I made it through the morning. I did forget my body glide, and had to return home to get it. But otherwise I did ok. While at work, I had no time to stop to consider where I was headed – project deadlines were steadily creeping closer. I left work later than planned, and headed to Espanola to rendezvous with Co at the hotel the production put him up at. Very nice, but I was a bit too tired and worn out to enjoy the surroundings.
Wednesday early, he woke and hugged me good luck. I slept in a bit, and then there was nothing left to do but drive up…
TO LEADVILLE.
A few solid hours of nothing to do but swim around in my own turbulent sea of anxiety. Luckily when I got to Leadville, there was a text waiting for me from K. Me, F, K, Geekgrl, and sweet baboo all went out for pizza. Then it was time to put a few finishing touches on the drop bags. Then bed. Thank goodness for friends. Thursday morning we ran up at Independence pass – finally a little release to all that nervous energy. It felt great, and I finally felt like I was all in one piece again not flying scattered between a thousand different points like a pinball.
Highs must necessarily be followed by lows, and once I moved into the rental house Thursday, I discovered that I was really alone. No phone. No cell phone. No internet. All by myself.
So I made cookies. And met friends for the LT pasta feed. And put together my gear bags, mostly. And then it was time for bed. –whew- I still had a whole day to go before the start, for crying out loud.
Got up, made blueberry crumble in which I added twice as much liquids as the recipe called for (I swear it was the fault of the house’s measuring cups – they were confusing). I kind of fixed it. The cookies were definitely better.
Went to medical check in, and waited for the pep rally. I was torn between wanting company, and not wanting anyone to see just how nervous I was. I am STRONG. I am independent. I am CAPABLE. *whimper*
The pep rally was interesting, the doc funny, and Ken was Ken, telling us to dig deep. Find a way to keep moving toward the finish. When he asked the newbies to stand, boy were there a lot of us. I learned there were 40 people in my age group – wow, ok.
Bones came to the crew meeting. Passing info to him, talking logistics, really calmed me down. I understood how this was going to work. It was going to work.
Back to the house to finish putting together the drop bags and gear bags. Norm and Jane show up to start cooking, and I try to leave to drop off the drop bags… no car keys. Anywhere. I looked everywhere, twice. I knew they were at the house – I had driven the car there. I looked everywhere again. I wanted to get this done so that when my in-laws arrived, I wasn’t still running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Finally after completing sweep #5 of the house and car and surround county, I walked up the stairs saying that I would take Jane up on her offer to let me borrow her car – and just about ran into my mother in law. After hugs, I confessed my sorry ability to keep track of keys, and Marv lent me the keys to the van. Off I went, dropped off the bags, checked in for my crew at the super 8, and was driving back before you knew it. Until I passed a cop. Who pulled out to follow me. And then switched on his lights. OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! I wasn’t speeding, I didn’t think… so why….
Officer: “license, insurance and registration please, ma’am”
-oh great, I’m going to get ma’ammed through this whole thing, too-
Me: “Here’s my license and insurance, but.. this is my father in law’s cargo van, I don’t know where he keeps the registration… they drove out from Wisconsin, it’s packed full of their stuff. I could look if you want me to?”
He waves his hand – “no, that’s alright. I’ll be right back.”
Him; “Ma’am this registration is not coming up in my computer. You’ll want to have your father in law check that out.”
Me: “ok, I will. He’s very responsible, I can’t imagine he let it lapse.”
Him: “That’s fine, not why I stopped you. Ma’am, do you know why I stopped you?”
Me:“no Sir, I don’t.
Him: “well, I thought you might be drunk. You were all over the road back there!”
Me: “oh, ah, well, I don’t usually drive anything like this van, ah. I’m not used to how it handles. I didn’t realize… I’m not, ah, drunk. I’m very close now to home. ”
Him: “you were weaving all over your lane.”
Me: “ah, I, I’m sorry, I’ll be very careful on the way home, I promise!” (tried very hard to look respectable.)
He let me go, and I spent the next five miles trying to figure out a way to tell Marv about his registration without telling my in-laws that I got pulled over because the officer suspected I was drunk.
I got back to the house, and the pasta party is in full swing. I say hello to several friends, make my way over to Marv. I returned his keys and thanked him profusely for the loan. Then, quietly, “A cop stopped me. He said the registration didn’t come up for the van, so you’ll want to check that.” I thought that was good. The truth, you know, but not the whole truth. But then, Marv gets this horrified look on his face. “you got STOPPED? Oh I’m so sorry! It’s the special bicentennial WI plates, they don’t come up out of state. Oh my gosh, I can’t believe they stopped you for that. Are you ok? Did he give you a hard time? I’m so so sorry! I swear it is those plates. It is! I can go get you the registration if you want to see it!”
I hesitated. But I couldn’t let him feel so bad.
“No, no Marv, actually he stopped me because I weaved a couple of times going around a turn,” big sigh, “and he thought I might be drunk.”
They had the grace not to laugh.
The rest of the party was fun, the food was good, and I tried my best not to freak out about the missing car keys. Which my mom and dad, M and K were going to NEED the next day. Several friends could see through my very thin veneer of calm to the “OH MY GOD WHAT AM I GOING TO DO.” I had at least 5 people also go through the house, car and grounds. No luck. K told me not to worry about it – did I have a ride the next day to the race start. Yes. So forget it.
“OK BUT AFTER THE RACE WE AREN”T STATYING IN LEADVILLE I CAN’T LEAVE THE CAR HERE WE NEED IT HOW AM I GOING TO GET HOME CO’S GOING TO KILL ME.”
Thankfully, K figured out a plan involving K calling my neighbors that night when he got back to Leadville, my neighbors finding the spare key at the house, and fedex. I sat down. (It’s good to have friends.)
Bones corners me, and we sit down to more thoroughly go through the plan, my gear bags, my time estimates. Just as we are getting a handle on things, DP arrives. I give her a huge hug, and we go through it again. Change shoes here. Gear bags organized this way. Phone list. I warn that if I am ahead of schedule on the way out, that’s likely going to mean trouble. I thank them. Multiple times. And I mean it wholeheartedly.
The whole time, Jane and Norm have set up, cooked, served, and are now cleaning up. I can’t express how thankful I am to them for all of their work. Jane as a last ditch effort decides she will check my car one more time for my keys. To my great surprise and everlasting gratefulness, I hear a whoop from my car, and a jangle and Jane bounds up to the house holding my keys. The last vestige of tension loosens from my shoulders, and I give her a huge hug. It’s going to be fine. It will all work out.
Everyone leaves. I tidy up, leave a note for my parents and M and K. I set up for the morning. I look around at all the things I won’t see again in daylight until Sunday… because I am going for a run.
