Open Season for RunnerChick

"7 mile Tempo Run" my training plan said. Ugh, I thought. I swallow my Multi-V and wash it down with a half bottle of Ensure. In my second week of taper leading up to Ironman Wisconsin a tempo run did not sound like fun for my legs which were in desperate need of rest and a massage. I laced up my shoes and headed out the door. The morning was cool after the storm blew through last night. It was mid-80's at 6:40 am. I hit the 'power canal' as I like to call it; the canal that parallels the road I live on.

As I cross the first mile, I begin to hear gunfire. Not unusual, there is often hunting in the fields off to the west of my canal. Nearing two miles into my warm-up, I am brought to a dead halt as shrapnel peppers the ground around my feet. The hunters were too close to the canal and they were shooting in the wrong direction. I'm from the Midwest where hunting is common. In high school my sister's boyfriend (who loved to deer hunt) taught me how to shoot a rifle and we practiced shooting clay pigeons on his land. So I, very naively, thought 'they must not see me'. (As in, why would they be shooting at me if they could see me?) I begin to wave my arms above my head frantically and shout. "HEY! POINT YOUR GUNS IN THE OTHER DIRECTION!" I continue to scream my fool head off as the hunters lower their rifles for a brief moment, until another bird flies by that is. Then more gunfire and more buckshot lands around me. So at this point, my HR is now in zone four, good range for my tempo pace. I dash across the foot bridge over the canal and approach one of the marksmen. "YOU NEED TO POINT YOUR GUN IN THE OTHER DIRECTION. YOU CANNOT SHOOT WEST! YOU CANNOT SHOOT AT ME!" I am foaming at the mouth and frantic at this point. The man looks at me blankly. 'It won't hurt if it hits you,' he says.

What?!!? I am livid at this point but there is a sudden realization that these people could care less if they shoot me. Now I just want to be out of the range of their rifles. I turn around and approach the white pickup truck parked next to them. I have no idea if it is theirs but it obviously belongs to one of the hunters out there and so my plan is to call the cops with the license number. FCJ 9077 As I pause at the rear of the truck to check the plate, another hunter pulls his rifle to his shoulder and aims at me. A chill runs down my spine and I high-tail it out of there like a panicked doe. As I run back toward the road in a zig-zag pattern I check my Garmin. Definitely tempo pace.

Next week when I'm racing in Wisconsin and the going gets tough I'm going to look back at the crazy training season I've had. From the 'no-wake' zone I biked through in June (see Not My Turn...) to being egged on my bike at 5 am last month to being shot at while running today.... there will be no obstacle on race day that I cannot overcome! And thanks to using First Endurance's Optygen HP over the last 2 years, I've been able to increase my aerobic threshold, improve my oxygen utilization and today when it counted most, the boost I get in explosive muscular strength and power output allowed me to escape open season unharmed. Check out their website: http://www.firstendurance.com/ You never know when it's going to pay off.

P.S. If you think I'm making any of this up just to win $800 worth of product from First Endurance through their contest (which would be awesome!), I would challenge you to check the dispatch records with the Maricopa County Deputy. My call was made at 7:25 am and the deputy was dispatched at 8:15 am. Unfortunately due to the lag (what's up with that??) the marksmen were already packed up and gone by the time he got there at 8:30. He explained that it was open season for doves and warned me to wear "protective goggles" if I "have to run on that canal". He seemed nice, if unhelpful, and I think he's still scratching his head trying to figure out why I ran over to "talk" to them. I guess I forgot that my super-powers don't keep me safe from gunfire.