Wild, wonderful Wyoming

7/27 – long run, 12 miles, 1:33:xx

This run was a struggle. Not an epic struggle. Hardly worth complaining about. But it hurt. I thought I was pushing a brisk pace only to discover I was logging 8:00 miles. I ran early, and I even stashed a water bottle of Heed (after the previous week’s fiasco). But something just wasn’t clicking. Time to forget about it.

Some days are bad, some weeks are tough. For one, ^ this run was the end of three, 24-mile weeks (hellooooo down week). Second, I had a very busy two weeks with the aunt, and that 10-mile hike after a long run didn’t allow for much recovery. I was beat. Time to forget about it.

This week I took a down week: 20% reduction in mileage. I planned an 8 mile long run, which turned into a 6.5 mile stomach ache. I started late because I was running on 3 days without breakfast (arms-folded-scowling-at-myself for this) so I took care of the important things and fuckin’ ate. But then the heat got to me during the run and my GI tract rebelled. I stopped to walk home rather than shit my shorts. Some days are bad.

Oh yeah, and then the kicker… Effing right Achilles. It was on-and-off, but mostly on, and it’s still a little tender. But I am in denial so I will do nothing and hope it just “goes away.”

I ran on dirt yesterday and it wasn’t so bad.

So there.

But I rolled my ankle twice and my foot is sore.

Can’t win.

Somehow I still [almost] reached my mileage un-goal for the week:

M – Off

T – 3.5 mi easy (28 min)

W – 4 mi (“Minutes” workout) <– links to Runners’ World article about this workout

Th – Off

F – XT, bike ride (8 mi)

Sa – 6.5 mi

Su – 4.5 mi, recovery

Total: 18.5 miles, 3 hours

I spent the non-running portion of last week in total vacation mode and visited some friends who work at nearby* ranches that I have neglected to check out over the years.

The first is a girl I went to Oxy with who has been working at Gros Ventre River Ranch for four years and I had never ventre-ed (ventured ha) to see it. Turns out it is wayyyyy da fuck back there. In a bit of a canyon, but the Tetons are clear as day from the guest cabins.

GVRR and a happy ranch dog

GVRR and a happy ranch dog

She gave me a tour, then we hung out in her cute-as-can-be, rustic, homemade cabin she shares with her boyfriend, and he homebrews. Like a pro. The black IPA came outta nowhere! “Mad props, dude.” – Someone Else.

Annddddd that's enough Yellowstone for another three years

Annddddd that’s enough Yellowstone for another three years

The next morning I set off through Yellowstone in search of Crossed Sabres Dude Ranch. It’s located several miles beyond the east entrance, which was great because in all our visits to the ‘Stone we never went that way (I’ve seen Old Faithful and all the same bubbling gaseous craters twice thanksbutnothanks). This ranch is also in a canyon – a beautiful drive, and someday I will make it all the way to Cody just for the scenery.

Morning at Crossed Sabres

Morning at Crossed Sabres

My two friends at Crossed Sabres used to work at the TX and are now engaged! They are helping his dad re-start up the storied ranch, which went out of operation some years back. For a first-year ranch they have been as busy as they can handle, but it must be a huge strain on the owner to exceed expectations and score returning guests. Not envious.

Quaint little ranch, no cellphone service, great food, awesome main lodge (they have a bar). I hope to be back for a visit (and some riding) one day, but the kinks are still being worked out in that department.

The view from the porch rocker

The view from the porch rocker

I stayed the night in my friends’ cabin. HE ALSO HOMEBREWS. Winning at vacation.

Then after three weeks, my planned funemployment ended. I picked up a fall housekeeping gig at the TX and went to work on Sunday for changeovers. It’s like I never left. Or worked in the corral. I went straight to work making beds and one girl goes, “woah have you worked here before?” Oh, Honey.

Personal portfolio ranch stock photography

Personal portfolio ranch stock photography, circa 2012

 

 

*In a state as few and far between as Wyoming, it’s all relative.