One Wild Workout

The best training partner and garden helper ever

I must be crazy to keep running.  I believe the definition of insanity is repeating the same thing over and over, expecting a different result.  Every time I start training, I tell myself it's going to get easier, and every time I curse the universe in short, gasping breaths when it doesn't.  I just get used to not being able to breathe for longer periods of time and learn to ignore my aching legs and lungs.

Maybe the lack of oxygen is starting to affect my brain because not only have I signed up for a marathon on October 6, I just registered for the highest half marathon in the country.  The Madison Marathon (http://themadisonmarathon.com/) takes place at around 9,000 ft in the Gravelly Range, southwest of Ennis, and if you're in town on July 28 you can watch me huff and puff and grunt my way through 13.1 painful miles.  After that, running 26.2 in Minneapolis in October will be a piece of cake.  Or so I tell myself.

To that end I've started going on longer and longer training runs.  Right now my options are long dirt country roads that run straight for miles on end or silly steep hiking trails that are a delightful melange of crusty snow and shoe-sucking muck.  One of the few passable trails is the Pot Trail and Trail Creek, which run into the hills to the east of Ennis Lake.  Luna and I headed up there on Wednesday armed with energy chews and bear spray, and proceeded to climb.  And climb, and climb, and climb.  There was a lot of breathless hiking and swearing on my end, while Luna kept looking back and wondering what was keeping me.

We climbed from 4500' to 7600' in about 4 and a half miles, then turned around and tumbled all the way back down the hill.  There were old bear prints frozen into the mud, amazing views of Ennis Lake spread out below us, and snowy mountains all around.  Bubba was waiting for us back at the car (running is not one of his favorite activities) and we all headed down to the Madison River for stretching and swimming, respectively.  At that point the river is deep and slow as it leaves Ennis Lake, and absolutely brimming with avian life.  I counted at least a dozen loons, sliding dark and low through the water, a pair of common mergansers with their distinctive mohawks, a singular grebe, and a large immature bald eagle pursued by a pair of noisy crows.  Things like that make running, however difficult and stupid, completely worth it.

Northern Travels

Taking the Colonel north from Edmonds to Anacortes, leaving the harbor

The Edmonds ferry

Deception Pass

Tulips on the Skagit Flats

Tulip fields in full bloom

Spring In MT, Believe It Or Not

Bear Trap Canyon, Madison River

Two weeks ago Carl and I took the dogs to Bear Trap Canyon.  Luna and I jogged over rock falls and past rapids while he and Bubba hiked, then we met back up to swim the pooches and hike out.  It was warm enough that we were both sweating in our T-shirts, and the dogs were happy to paddle around in snow-melt water.  This morning we woke up to half an inch of snow on the ground and the world wintry still.  You've got to love spring in Montana.

Luckily most of my job to date takes place in the sheltered environs of one of two greenhouses, although the fickle spring weather makes it tricky to regulate the temperature in there.  If the sun is out, and it often is here, the production greenhouse will be 90 degrees at 10:00 in the morning regardless of the temperature outside.  It's a game of propping doors open, rolling up plastic sides, and constantly checking the thermometer to make sure nothing's either boiling or freezing.

The production greenhouse, getting greener all the time

So far I seem to be having some success at this large-scale gardening thing.  Last week we sent a batch of spinach and lettuce over to the school, and on Friday we harvested a slew of produce to sell at an impromptu market: radishes, spinach, beet greens, beautiful bunches of kale and chard, and a salad mix of lettuce, baby kale and chard, beet greens, and crisp tasty pea shoots.  It was extremely satisfying to hand over these bags and bunches of lush greens knowing that I'd grown them, with plenty of help and technical support.  Bubba and Luna helpfully milled around underfoot and greeted our buyers.

Rhubarb chard

Baby zucchini

The dogs investigating the hot spring

The best part about the job is that I get to take the dogs to work.  Most of the time they lay outside and watch the world go by, alerting me to visitors and making sure the perimeter is secure.  Every so often they'll come in to make sure I'm still there, and then wander back outside to where the action is.  They're the best gardening buddies ever.