Let's stress a really really important fact here: This was Cowboys' very first exposure to ultra running of any sort. I had texted him throughout my jaunt during the TransRockies but this would be his very first visual encounter to the sheer insanity ultra running buddies up with.
-having to witness the "feeding" that occurs after such racing
-the painfully slow robotic movements one must partake in to move three feet
-the pre-planning and strategic positioning one must have to raise and lower oneself onto the toilet
-the constant moaning, stretching, and loud pursed-lipped breathing one must do to conquer the pain that overwhelms the body
-serious distress of the gastrointestinal variety, need I say more?
-muscle fasciculations: google it.
Here's a clip that comes to mind.
These among many many others were going to be the true test to Cowboy's love. That's one hell of a run for an initiation right?!
Runs such as these have weeded out my numbers many times before so deep down inside, I truly had a nagging fear for the loss of a very very good man by allowing Cowboy to tag along and witness my well enjoyed self-mutilation. Little did he realize how much I would truly need his help this trip.
Cowboy made me two packets of instant oatmeal (raisin and walnut) and a cup of black coffee while I dressed. I rechecked the basics of my pack, grabbed a banana, and climbed into the car. I rolled into the Bright Angel parking lot at 0330.
After a mad dash of throwing my jacket (it was COLD) and pack on, fumbling a kiss to Cowboy (which I felt guilty for later on, wishing it hadn’t been so pathetic of a kiss) we sped off in a whirlwind of excitement down the trail.