Mt Baldy Madness

   What does Labor Day weekend, I mean summertime mean to me? It means running
 ” marathons”( yes I know ” marathons are over 26.2 miles but I ran straight up hill! 2,000 foot elevation gain in two miles!) And I almost puked on myself in the process!

Matching buffs at the lake, yea R.E.I

    Labor Day weekend to this mountain girl means lake time, cats who hate me because I went on a vacation without them ,  BBQ pork ribs, margaritas, pool time, betting on horses named Vodkatariot, and blasting the ac on the way to Whole Foods to buy Lara Bars and Kombucha (I have no idea how to spell that) with my bff.
     Hi. I’m Amber and I enjoy a run on sentence or two.
     Yeah but now its Vegas time and that Mt Baldy eight mile straight up hill run is a day in the past and the future holds nothing but pools, margaritas and all night dance parties.
     Did I puke on a mountain side yesterday? Yes.
     Did I make it to top of Mt San Antonio ( Mt baldy)
     No.
     I was struck with severe altitude sickness 1/4 mile below the summit. Yeah, I suck…
At life… At mountain top running at 10,000 feet that is… I failed but what an experience , I had a great time running Mt Baldy with my BFF Labor Day weekend. That was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. Every one says, oh you can always come back next year.
   Um, no fucking way.
   That was intense and I will never do it again.
    I ran the first four and a half miles of the race and no one near me was running, every one was hiking briskly, but I probably over did it with all the running and didn’t get accustomed to the altitude fast enough.
   The last two miles of the race are the hardest. The trail goes almost straight up.

   It is agony to put one foot in front of the other. I never stop to take breaks, but I was stopping to take breaks every two minutes. No joke, I stopped ten times before I limped my way to a Search and Rescue Dude and asked him if he could radio to the finish line and try and find my friend (Who is a rock star, and finished in two hours and seventeen minutes!)
   I was so mad at myself when I had to stop. At the point I knew I was super sick I was less then a mile from the finish line. My time at that point was two hours and ten minutes, unbelievably fast for me! When I finally gave up I was a quarter mile from the finish line, but I was done. And we still had to walk back down to the chair lift a few miles.
  My friend met up with me, brought me an orange and some water. My stomach was cramping, but I felt a little better. We started on the hike back down. I had not taken any pictures on the way up, I was concentrating on running. On the way back down the mountain I was planning on taking a ton of pictures. I had just whipped out my camera to take this picture of the Devils Backbone, this area of the trail that has shear drop offs on both sides. A lot of people who are afraid of heights turn around at this point. I can’t feel to bad; 650 people entered the race and only four hundred finished and I’m sure I made it much farther than a lot of them did.

   When I took out my camera, it had something sticky on it, I thought it was orange juice, so I licked my hand (Why I did that, I do not know, my hands were not at all clean, but I was not thinking rationally, I was so tired at that point) It was not orange juice on my hand, it was tree sap, and as soon as it touched my tongue I was puking. There was no controlling it. Mimi guided me to the side of the trail (Because other runners do not want to run through my puke) As I was throwing up, I remember thinking, wow, this is the most gorgeous place I have ever been sick.
   After that I did feel a little better and I wanted to start the hike back, but another Search and Rescue Dude had appeared at my side and made me rest for a few minutes. I thought I was feeling better until I realized just how far of a walk it was just to get to the ski lift that would take us the rest of the way down.
   The ski lift… Yea…
   I have never ever been afraid of heights. I do not ski. I thought the ski lift sounded like a fun idea. I like Ferris Wheels, right? Yeah, the ski lift terrified me, I was afraid to move an inch. I almost forgot how sick I felt, I was so afraid I was seriously going to die right there on that ski lift. I have never been so happy to see my car appear in the distance ever. Good bye Mt Baldy; it was for sure an adventure.