Photos & videos from Sunday

My husband took some pictures and videos of me riding Limerick this past Sunday. She was being a goofball and the goal of the ride was to just keep her steady and calm. I succeeded...somewhat. Typically, I make her work hard if she acts silly but on this day, the footing didn't allow for it--outside or in.

We started in the outdoor arena, which was a slop from the heavy rains over the past couple days.

Telling my husband that I'm going to head indoors because the footing is just horrid.

"Come on, Limerick, you can eat grass later!"

Lim waiting for me to open the gate to the indoor arena.



In the indoor arena, Cashel fly mask off.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N6IPn-zJe8k

A nice walk...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XY9exPPnE6I

A nice trot...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IEEVZJ6um5I

A not-so-nice trot. She kept trying to either walk or canter here, so I had to work to get her moving at a steady pace. She sprinkled in a couple clownish head shakes, too--one directed at some pigeons nearby.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xr8gh-SsCLI

Here, I'm encouraging her to give me a nice, quiet canter. As mentioned before, if she's being silly then I normally make her work hard but today, the footing was just too awful for that. Instead, I went for the "let's attempt a slow, quiet canter" approach. It worked...for a short time! Then she decided to throw out another goofball move.

(Right before she acts silly, you can see a huge wet spot on the arena footing. For whatever reason, this spot was making her act up. She even jumped the entire thing the first time I tried to canter over it)

Finally, I decided to give up on the cantering and brought her back down to a trot. She eventually gave me a nice, forward trot with no silliness and I called it a day!

Dapples!

Limerick's spring dapples are back, and better than ever. She had her first bath of the year last weekend.

I don't know why she has more and more dapples every year (she hardly had any 14 years ago) but no complaints here, of course! Perhaps it's some sort of genetic coat thing.

She's been doing really well lately. A couple weeks ago, I raced her along the fence line of the outdoor arena (her in it, me out of it) and she was moving with a huge, flashy trot, her tail straight up. She truly looked great.

With my ultra-running training lately, I haven't been able to ride as much. But I'm taking most of the summer off from training so I'll be able to get a lot more riding in.

Clinton Lake 30 Race Report

The day—the running of the Clinton Lake 30—was a cumulation of months of training, but was also a training run in itself for the McNaughton Park 50-mile. Some people told me to take it easy at Clinton Lake and save something for McNaughton. Yet others told me to go out hard and fast, to make Clinton Lake a bigger effort than it needed to be, in order to make up for the 20-mile gap in between the two race distances.

I opted for the latter, not because it made sense, but because I wanted to! I wanted to push myself and see what I could do. I was secretly hoping for a sub-6 hour finish.

My husband had to work until 6pm the day before Clinton Lake so not long after he arrived home at 7pm, we made the 2-plus hour drive to a Super 8 motel in Le Roy, about 20 minutes from the Clinton Lake start area.

The stress of the late drive combined with anxiety about race day made for a bad night’s sleep. The too-soft bed and flat pillows helped none. When I did sleep, I would dream of running on trails and tripping over roots, jerking myself awake.

I awoke at 5am and, after struggling to get the room microwave to work, nuked a large cup of McDonald’s coffee that we had purchased the night before. No matter what, I can’t start my day without coffee! I showered and got ready, and then my husband drove me to the race start area.

The morning was much colder than expected. I had hoped to mingle with other runners before the race but instead choose to sit in the car with my husband, the heater blasting. I wasn’t concerned about the race weather—it was to be sunny all day and I knew that the temperatures would be climbing into the low 50’s later. Perfect running weather! Before long it was 7:20—almost time to start.

I lined up a bit behind the leaders and off to the side. Even though I hadn’t run the course before, and had been warned about the difficulty of it, I wasn’t nervous. I was pretty sure I could nab a sub-6 finish, providing nothing went wrong. But of course, in an ultra, anything can go wrong!

The race started and the leaders dashed ahead. I held my pace as we ran out of the parking lot and up a hilly asphalt road. After a quarter mile we turned into the woods and onto singletrack. I quickly picked up a pattern. I would run behind a slower runner for some time then, when the coast was clear, pass them on the side of the trail. After a few miles I became hot and knew I would have to swap my winter cap for a baseball cap and take off my polyfleece shirt when I got back to the start/finish area on the loop.

I quickly discovered that I was pretty good at running down hills. During my first ultra a few months prior, I would lean back and “brake” into the downhills, which led to horribly sore quads by race’s end. But I had been working on this over the winter. This time, I leaned into the downhills and let my feet take small, quick steps beneath me. I pictured myself running like a cartoon character—an upright figure with a circular blur of legs below. It worked! As long as I watched carefully for roots, rocks, and sudden drops, I was able to hammer it down and overtake people. It was also a helluva lot of fun.

The hills were never-ending. Up and down, up and down. I had trained myself to recover on slight uphills, however, so I never felt exhausted. The only issue I had was with the muddiest section of the course—a stretch of ankle-deep mud on a downhill. Rather than heading over to the leaf-covered, firmer muck on the right side of the trail, I found myself following the runner in front of me right into the worst section of mud on the left side of the trail. My feet slipped out from beneath me and I landed in the mud. My water bottle—tip included—absorbed the worst of the impact.

Argh! I tried to wipe the bottle tip clean as I ran but needed water to clean it well enough to use it again. After the bottle was re-filled at the next aid station, I cautiously drank from it then spit water onto the dirty bottle tip until it was clean, all while running. Success.

I got to the start/finish area—and the end of the first of three loops—under the two hour mark. I quickly swapped caps, took off my polyfleece shirt, and yanked off my right shoe and sock so I could glob Vaseline onto a hot spot. At the same time a volunteer came over to take my water bottle and fill it. Shoe and sock back on, and water bottle returned, I hit up the porta-john. Then I was ready! No, wait! I had to get some food. It was a mental juggle to remember everything.

My second loop was more of the same, except I was alone for almost the whole way around. I hammered it down the hills, power-walked the steep uphills, and recovered on the flatter sections. My Garmin told me I was going at an average of 9:30 minute/miles during the flatter sections and it felt like I was hitting the downhills closer to 7:30 minute/miles. I knew I was going a bit fast but I felt awesome so I kept it up.

Well, awesome other than a bit of nausea.

I hit the start/finish area again at just under 4 hours. I was still feeling pretty decent, but not as good as before. I grabbed a couple ginger chews along with the usual Shot Bloks. A sub-6 was still possible but not looking as likely. But I was going to try! And with luck, I would get my second wind.

A mile into the final loop, my batteries began to die. Fast. One moment I was thinking you can do it! And the next moment I was walking…on a flatter section...with no intention of running again anytime soon. The nausea was worse than ever and I was thirsty despite drinking more than enough. Or was it too much? My fingers were a bit puffy and my wedding band, which is normally easy to remove, was tight on my finger. I realized I was over-hydrated and had taken too many S-caps. That explained the nausea and the wall that I had run into.

After walking for nearly half a mile, I resumed running. But it was a slow, shuffling run—a big change from an hour before. A few moments later my tired foot stubbed a tree root while going down a hill. I flew forward like Supergirl and, after landing on my right knee and hip, slid down the hill on my side. Sometime during the slide I had rolled onto my back as I laid there helplessly, I began to laugh. Another runner—a woman I had passed on the first loop—was approaching. She had seen the whole thing and when she saw me laughing, she laughed too.

I got up and, after a quick mental check to make sure no body parts were mangled, resumed my shuffling run. I tripped over another root a few miles later but since it was going uphill, the fall was far less dramatic.

This time around the hills seemed endless. I would walk then remind myself that I was almost done, just a couple more miles, just a few more hills, think of the ice cream and brownies and I could eat afterwards, think of the comfortable couch awaiting at home. And with these thoughts I would begin running again but it wouldn’t last.

On the last hill of the course was a neon green sign with “Are you loving the hills yet?” handwritten in black marker. I had thought the sign was amusing on the first loop but now it was a beacon for the finish. Last hill, last quarter mile, almost there! And who was standing next to it but my dad, camera in hand? What a welcome sight!

He walked with me to the bottom of the hill then, when we got to the asphalt, I ran the rest of the way to the finish. The clock said 6:35—about a half hour later than I would have preferred but, given how difficult my last loop had been, I was happy with the time. Clinton Lake is a much tougher course than Farmdale and the fact I was able to do so much better, and not be overwhelmed by the hills (just my own fueling issues), was a testament to my increased fitness.

Let's see what happens at McNaughton Park.

Are you loving the hills yet?

After loop 2.

Half a mile to go.

A different farrier will shoe Limerick tonight....eeeks.

I never thought I'd see the day, but a different farrier needs to trim Lim's hooves--which happens tonight!

My usual guy threw his back out some time ago. Lim had an appointment with him on March 6 but he was unable to make it. When I asked him to recommend another farrier for the time being, he said he could come out and do Lim's feet himself when he had a better day.

Unfortunately, that day never came.

I know enough about back injuries to realize it might be a while before he can do Limerick's feet. In the meantime, they haven't stopped growing! So, I am finally resigned to finding someone else for the time being. I hate doing it but I have no choice.

The farrier I used before my current guy made Limerick lame, in more ways than one, so I am understandably worried and apprehensive about this. But again, I have no choice.

We'll see how it goes tonight.

At least I know Limerick isn't carrying a phantom foal. When I rode her on Sunday, she displayed obvious signs of heat. She was energetic but had a hard time channeling this energy. I had to strongly encourage her to use that energy to move forward. If she had it her way, she would have stopped to throw a temper tantrum every time another horse was ridden near her.

I don't usually get impatient with her but on Sunday I admit that after she tried to point her hindquarters at a horse for the second time, I made it abruptly clear to her that I wasn't going to tolerate that. I quickly turned her nose towards the offending horse and did a kind of shoulder-in away from that horse. I took her crankiness and turned it into work.

She was a bit better after I did this a couple times and settled into a nice, long-strided trot. After a few moments of this lovely trot I called it a day. When you're working with a mare in heat, it's better to err on the side of caution and end the day on a good note, no matter how short that note may be!

The spring heats are always the worst but at least she's settled down a lot in her older years.

I've been riding (and owning) her for 14 years this month and she's really come a long way from the temperamental fireball she once was. My mom can definitely attest to this. Limerick is like a fine wine--better with age!

On the running front, I'm running my second ultra-marathon this Saturday--the Clinton Lake 30. I feel far more prepared for this one than I did Farmdale. I'm excited and nervous! I feel like my legs could pull off something good but anything can happen in a race of this distance so we shall see.

An update!

Wow, I didn't realize how long it had been since I updated my blog. It seems like just a couple weeks ago that Limerick's photos were taken as she galloped and played in the snow.

The snow has melted, the spring rains and fog are coming and going, and pretty soon it will be trail riding season!

In early February, I received a letter from the barn stating that the board was to go up by $50. Yikes. Since the board hadn't been raised in two years, the amount wasn't very surprising. Unfortunately, the letter arrived at a bad time for me, financially.

The letter also noted that the cost of the middle barn stalls was to remain the same. These were the stalls that I had moved Limerick out of over the summer. There was nothing wrong with them, really, they were just old and had no runs. They used to be pretty dark, too, but windows had been recently installed in them so they were brighter during the day.

Since Limerick didn't use her run all that much (the only difference was she opted to crib outside on the door to the run rather than inside the stall) and she was turned out every day, I decided it wouldn't be all that bad to move her back to the middle barn and save $75 a month.

So I did that during the last weekend of February.

Around the time of the letter regarding board increase, my husband made a feed store run for me. He texted me from the feed store to tell me that they only had two bags of the feed I wanted. Ugh...frustrating!

It seems like every other time I get feed, there is some sort of problem. They're either out of pelleted or texturized, or they only have X bags when I want to purchase more, or the price of the bags has suddenly gone up, or blah blah blah.

As I made a note in my day planner to go back in two weeks for yet more bags, if they even had them, a small voice in my head dared to ask, What if Limerick was switched to Equine Senior?

Purina Equine Senior. It is fed by my barn and included in the board cost. I do not get a discount for feeding my own grain, so if I move Limerick to a new stall and switch to the feed provided by the barn, I would be saving around $150 a month.

Hmmm. Two years ago I wouldn't have even considered it. But now? Limerick is doing extremely well. She grazes on pasture grass in the summer with the rest of the herd, sans grazing muzzle. She eats the same hay as everyone else, unsoaked. She looks and feels wonderful. The danger of reoccurring laminitis appears to be long past.

To be sure, I did some research. The NSC (starch and sugar) levels of Purina Equine Senior aren't as low as Buckeye Safe N Easy, but they're not as bad as I thought they would be, either. Senior horses appear to do very well on this feed. I inquired with my farrier and vet. My farrier said "go ahead" and my vet said that it would most likely be okay, but to be safe we should run an insulin test on Limerick after she has been on the Equine Senior for a couple weeks.

Deal!

Well, the test was done last Friday and the results are in--her insulin levels are excellent, nice and low. I will continue to monitor her but both my vet and I feel she will be just fine.

And last but not least, she loves that feed!

Founder: Then and Now

Today, I was sharing my experience with founder on a horse message board. To show that a horse can go to the depths of hell and bounce back, I decided to dig up some old photos of Limerick's fabled LF (left fore) hoof.

Looking at these, it's really quite amazing how far she has come in the past several years, and the past year in particular thanks to my farrier.

(Photos taken in early 2003, about 8 months after a hoof wall resectioning)






Back then, we were pretty sure that Limerick would be crippled for life. It's hard to imagine escaping 17 degrees of rotation, with near-sole prolapse, without any blemishes.

But we were wrong. Almost seven years after the photographs above were taken, here's Limerick.


This photograph was taken yesterday by The Click Chick Photography.

It brings a huge, huge smile to my face. Here is a 19-year-old mare, once horribly foundered, galloping through the snow with pure joy. As they say, a photograph says a thousand words. What do all the photographs on this page together tell you?

If hell froze over...

Saturday was the inaugural running of an organized "fun run", Windburn Six in the Stix. The winter counterpart of the Sunburn Six in the Stix, it was run on the same 2.28 mile limestone trail loop (with a shorter half-mile option) as the Sunburn fun run.

Since the run was self-supported I packed my drop bag with a few edible goodies, S-caps, additional "maybe I'll need it" winter running gear, and a bottle of Gatorade. Since I prefer to run with a Nathan fuel belt in winter rather than my hand-held bottle (I find holding anything in cold temps makes my fingers go numb, gloves or not), I also took that with.

It was cold. Very cold. It was windy enough to be annoying. And the snow...oh the snow. It was so deep, easily 12" in most places with drifts of up to 18" and over in other places. Since no one else--save a few snowshoers-- was insane enough to trod on these trails, us runners were the lucky ones to break the fresh powder.

I honestly wanted to quit after the first loop. Before the second I decided to put on my YakTrax to see if they would help. They did...somewhat. Nevertheless, halfway through the second loop I decided that I officially hate snow.

HATE IT!

But I hung in there and persevered. Some of the more experienced ultrarunners lapped me again and again and it just astonished me; I watched their feet carefully but didn't see how they could be going faster.

Even with the YakTrax, with almost each step I was slipping and sliding all over the place. If running through the fresh powder wasn't hard enough, there was also several inches of icy, crusty old snow beneath the new snow, making the footing uneven at best and downright ankle-twisting on average.

By the end of the third loop, my quads and hips (hips?!?!) were burning like something wicked. I decided that if hell froze over, it would be something like this.

But again, I persevered. My hamstring was stone silent. My calf had let out a little peep at the start of the first loop but was quiet from then on. Other than a burning soreness and a "I hate snow" mantra running through my head, I was feeling pretty damn good.

Hell, I was having fun!

But I didn't think I could do more than five loops. No way, no how. On the start of the fifth loop, I even considered just doing the half-mile loop. But for some reason, at the fork in the trails, I found myself heading to the right, towards the longer loop.

Noooooo! I don't wanna! I thought to myself as my masochist legs unwillingly carried me towards the long loop.

Midway through that loop I stopped completely and looked around. For as far as I could see, there were no other runners. A thought came to me. Quick! Make a snow angel! Laughing to myself, I laid down and made a snow angel.

Rejuvenated by my own immaturity, I gleefully ran on.

And guess what? Thanks to that snow angel, I willingly--mind and body working in harmony this time--did a sixth loop just so I could see my snow angel again.

But after the sixth loop I had enough. I had done almost 14 miles in four hours. My body held together. I was proud of myself, and it was a great training run for Clinton Lake. I headed home happy and, after a good lunch, took a two-hour nap.

I no longer hate snow.