Rock/Creek

Sunday, February 26, 2017

Mount Cheaha 50K: The Shickhead and Yoga Lindsey





Photo by Gregg Gelmis-We Run Huntsville
http://werunhuntsville.com/

7:15 p.m. Janice and I meet Christy at a local restaurant in Podunkville, Alabama. Our waitress was one of those ladies thats 150 lbs from the waist up and 35 lbs waist and below.


Angel: "Hey my name is Angel."
Me: "Did it hurt when you fell?"
Angel: "No, cause I fell straight to Hell!"
Me: "......................................................."

....a few minutes later



Me: "Gracias"
Angel: (speaking something is Spanish) "Do you know what I said?"
Angel: "I have big hairy balls."
Me: "......................................................."
Janice: "Don't say another word to her."
Christy: "I bet she smokes weed."

Photo by Gregg Gelmis-We Run Huntsville
Race morning we are at the starting line at 6:30 awaiting a 7:30 start. I see the blue poo shelters and have the urge to send them some refugees. I was a little scared cause I looked in there and they were fresh. Last time I used a fresh one, the initial deposit resulted in a geyser of blue water covering my white seat cushions.

Favorite part of races is seeing familiar faces. Ryne Anderson, Trey and Dreama Campbell, John Brower, Jennifer Raby, to name a few, and meeting some new people like Hunter and Season Lane. Also feeling a little uncomfortable when I saw Lindsey Dial checking out my sweet Rock/Creek Race Kit. 

Buses are an hour late and the race subsequently starts an hour later. Beautiful clear skies and the temperature rising, "Sweet Home Alabama" begins to play and we run 20' to the trailhead and walk for a 1/4 mile. I purposefully started about 3/4 back to ensure I did not go "B's" to the wall. A couple miles in I find myself in a train of people with a guy in front walking the flat part. He never looks back to see 50 people behind him. I risk an ankle twist and take the high side to get around.

Photo by Gregg Gelmis-We Run Huntsville
John Brower
Eventually Birmingham's favorite redneck Jared catches me and we team up and run conservative. Everything is going well until we catch Lindsey Dial. If you catch her it's because of one of two reasons...You went out too fast, or she is running very slow. Nevertheless, I was intent on being able to claim I beat her. Feeling great at this point we run strong and she pulls us....however, I was feeling great, yet a part of me knew this was too fast. 2-3 miles of banter and talking about Hot Daniel, David Riddle, Emily Ansick and farting in Yoga I feel myself beginning to struggle. Finally, Lindsey hits the downhills like a little tan fawn while Jarred and I pound them like Wilderbeast with a Lion on our back. I look back and see Richard Shick and get a little pizzed. How did this 67 year old shuffler catch us? I tell Jared he is about to "Get Shicked", but he doesn't know what that means. With Lindsey out of sight, we back off and get to mile 15 aid station. I realize the past 3 miles were a huge mistake. Had I not taken a bladder and Skratch, it would have been much worse. Beautiful sun and upper fifties were taking a toll. Every cool breeze, Jared and I would thank the Lord and move on.

After mile 15 the trail begins to level out somewhat yet it is a constant around the mountain to a corner drainage, slight up and repeat over and over and over. Relentless rolling single track. Up to mile 15 we were on a 6 to 6.5 hour finish. We finally made it to the bigger creek crossings where Gregg Gelmis is awaiting. I immediately get in the water and get on my hands and knees to ice my legs. Unbeknownst to me, Jared is behind me air spanking me in front of the camera. What he didn't know is that I was draining the bologna-pony right where he was standing. With Gregg was my buddy Chris Strope who was quitting there. I looked at him and simply told him to come on. Lied to him and told him the dirt road was only 3 miles from there. 

Leaving the water we climb again to the most beautiful section of the course. We climb over and around the side of a wonderful waterfall with pools. The three stooges settle to walk any and all hint of a climb and Curly shuffle the flats and downhills. The trail NEVER ENDS! A couple Birmingham chics catch us and Jared feels compelled to leave Chris and I. 

You know that point in the race where you have no more and you accept the death march? We were there. To the dirt road, paved road and to the final aid station excited to begin the final climb called "Blue Hell". Non-stop climbing we get to this little rock chute where Gregg is above taking pictures. Chris and I stop in utter despair to rest a second. Such an amazing cool breeze in blowing up the mountain and through the little chute, when all of a sudden I smell the smell of rotting flesh mixed with cat urine and dog anal pheromones. I turn back to see Chris with his head turned and a grin on his face. 
Photo by Gregg Gelmis
At the POOT CHUTE

Once you get to the top, you are not finished climbing. Todd Henderson rerouted a little to a new trail that looked like it was built by Beavis and Butthead. WHEN IS THE CLIMBING GONNA STOP?!?!?! Back to single track out of the woods, with about .2 mile to the finish. I walked through the finish, staggering, on the verge of passing out. My worst Cheaha by almost an hour. YET! It was wonderful to be out there. Praising God to be done, I laid down and Dewayne Satterfield'ed.

On the way down the mountain my stomach is hurting and I feel like I may can squeak one out and nobody know. Janice hollers and I turn around to see Christy's head sticking out the window. 

I love you, my wife, son, and my Savior.

Photo by Gregg Gelmis

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