Splitting Clouds on Stone Mountain with the Devil’s Bathtub in the Mix: Cloudsplitter 100km

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During school, I was one of the last people chosen to be on a sports team. I didn’t enjoy group sports at all, but I liked to walk or run, sometimes with someone else and sometimes alone. I am not a born athlete. I have to work hard physically to complete an ultramarathon, but mentally I am at home in the woods.

For the Cloudsplitter 100km, we traveled to Norton, Virginia, a town that the mayor called “the smallest town in Virginia” during our pre-race meeting the night before our 8 am start. The race started and finished at the Farmer’s Market in Norton. The course went through the streets of Norton for just over a mile. Then, we entered trails at the base of Stone Mountain whose peak, High Knob, is just over 4,000 feet up in elevation. The trails up to High Knob are steep and go between giant rock formations, not far from Flag Rock overlook where there’s a statue of the Wood Booger, what the locals call the Sasquatch or Big Foot legend. We didn’t see the statue on our summit to High Knob, but that didn’t mean the Wood Booger wasn’t out there.
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Runners chose between four race distances (25 km, 50 km, 100 km, and 100 miles). Interestingly, the 100 km distance was actually longer and measured 113 km from start to finish. The other race distances were exactly what they said they were. Only the 100km distance was more. Of course, I was running the 100 km distance.
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I chose the Cloudsplitter after completing the Dark Sky 50 at Big South Fork in May of this year. I loved the Dark Sky race and was ready to go a step farther toward my race dream goal, which I’m not ready to share just yet. I was looking for an ultramarathon that was 90%+ trails. I don’t enjoy running on pavement very much at all. I avoid it if possible and make only a few exceptions. I also needed to know if I could handle the elevation of mountain ultras. I live in middle TN which is like a big bowl, and the elevation is no comparison to the mountains. I also wanted to go past 50 miles so that I would know if the distance through the night was something I could accomplish and would enjoy. The Cloudsplitter fit my needs, and I messaged my friend Bryan to find out if he wanted to try it out with me.

Bryan and I had met at the Bell Ringer 50kmlast December, and we ran most of that race together. We tried to meet again for the Dark Sky 50 miler but never saw one another.


This time, B and I met at the race start. My family was with me. B’s girlfriend and his race pacer, Alex, accompanied him. Everyone was all a-buzz with the news that KM, the world record holder in 100 mile race wins was there to run the 100 miler. Everyone wondered if KM, at 51-years old, would break the course record, set the previous year by a 22-year old. (Note: I was completely clueless about KM, as I don’t follow the news or watch tv. I would have had no idea who they were talking about if my husband hadn’t told me the day before. I didn’t even know the race was a Mont Blanc qualifier until B told me that it was. I didn’t even know what Mont Blanc was until after May of this year. I really purely run because I think the trails seem cool to experience😂).

The race contained two out and back portions with the central hub located at High Knob. We ran through the town, up to High Knob on trails, then into Jefferson National Forest to Edith Gap, on to Bark Camp Lake, through to Little Stony parking area, where we turned around at an aid station there and took the same trails back to High Knob. The second out and back went from High Knob to Sentry Road on to Devil’s Fork Gate to Devil’s Fork Loop and back to High Knob via the same route. My first goal was to make it back to High Knob aid station by 10 pm, when I would refuel, change clothes, and then head back out for the second out and back of the course which I hoped to complete by dawn or early morning. Finally, the last leg was from High Knob back down the mountain to Norton, which I hoped to complete by noon the next day.

Here’s what happened: We headed out of Norton at 8 am on Saturday morning. B and I caught up on his recent events, which included a trip to Disney that he and his girlfriend took that week. They drove from Orlando, picked up his pacer on the way, and made it to Norton the night before. B’s radio blasted out Fusion as we ran through the streets and took to the trails up the mountain. We talked to the other runners along the way up to High Knob.


I met R, a 100-mile runner in sandals. He told us about some of his epic adventures. I liked him immediately, but somewhere along the way, we got separated. I didn’t plug in my earbuds or play music until we passed through the High Knob aid station, though I did try but they kept falling out or the phone wasn’t actually playing the music. It took me awhile to get the music and earbud working together (I never really got both of them going, and I finally gave up on the earbuds altogether and left my phone playing music quietly in the front pocket of my vest…of course, this was much later in the middle of the night…I turned it up sometimes when alone and needed.)

Since my husband was with our daughters, I told him not to worry about meeting me at the aid stations where crews were allowed. The week before our trip, we had all watched BIG STONE GAP, and Norton was only about 20 minutes or so from the town of Big Stone Gap. I encouraged Terry to take our girls to see the town where the movie was filmed. I wasn’t expecting to see them during the race, as I was hopeful that they’d go sightseeing. When we reached High Knob, Terry and the girls were waiting for me. Terry refilled my camel pack and water bottle. B’s girlfriend A and A pacer met him there, too. (😂 Team A&A for B).


Then, B and I took off again, but instead of following the race course, we took a small detour and ran up the High Knob tower to see the view, and I was glad that we did. The clouds blanketed Norton that morning and fluffed up to and around us. The views weren’t typically breathtaking, but they were layered and soul satisfying. After a brief video and photos, we went back out on the trail which dropped off the mountain and tumbled into the gorges. I loved this section through fern beds, mossy rocks, and into rhododendron and mountain laurel thickets. The trees changed and the light filtered into the forest to us. We both admired the beauty. We talked about our wonder with nature and how it felt like another world.

Eventually, after hurrying through a section with bees buzzing around us and other runners, we got into a small pack of runners. We ran with the group up to Edith Gap aid station and maybe beyond it. The forest began to change with trails that contained mossy rocks and stones. We walked across some of them. Most everyone used trekking poles from the start of the trails at the beginning. This was the first time I used trekking poles in a race, but I was glad to have them for stabilizing myself. Sometimes, I placed them in one hand and ran, and other times I used them to trek quickly along rocks that I called rocking chairs. At Edith Gap, I refilled my camel pack and filled up my handheld water bottle with Vitargo. I took a Saltstick capsule, and Bryan ate potatoes and a sampling of other foods. There was a big variety of foods and a nice fire at Edith Gap.


We headed for Bark Camp Lake along the Chief Benge Scout Trail. Creeks ran alongside the trail, more thickets, and trails with rock gardens. The wildlife expert said to “stop and smell the roses,” but to me, he meant “stop and smell the rocks,” and some mountains bloom rocks, covered in moss, shiny black, knocking, rocking chair rocks. Oh, the music on the trail. Finally, somewhere along this trail, I plugged in an earbud and DECIBEL by Analog Affair reminded me “From midnight comes the dawn” so I would remember my plan. I chose “chill” music, in its various forms… the main reason is that I knew that I would be taking my time on this ultra and still feel pushed. I really wanted to practice seeing, noticing, photographing, talking, and moving forward on a mountain, and see all of those trail spaces on it within 40 hours or whatever I could stand.

B and I stopped someone from going the wrong way at a fork in the trail. Somewhere in all that KM passed us and we realized it was him after he went by. At Bark Camp, our crews greeted us, along with volunteers. The fire was warm. Refill and change shirts for me. Take advantage of a bathroom at the picnic area.

We were off again on a mainly level trail that was littered with rocks and creek crossings. I was grateful that it had been a dry summer, so the creeks weren’t as slippery as they could have been. We were pretty sure that KM passed us again. I guessed that we crossed over 10 creeks, of varying widths and depths, with rocks of varying sizes up to the size of a large four-wheeler (some people said we crossed over 20 creeks by then, but I didn’t officially count them). People passed us in both directions now, and the shorter two distances were already gone. Everyone on the trail was a 100km or a 100mile runner. “Make them wheels roll,” someone said as we passed. B kept losing half of one of his trekking poles. It would get stuck in the rocks, roots, creek, everywhere. When we reached Little Stony, we refilled, ate, turned around and came back the same way toward Bark Camp Lake. Crossed the same creeks.

“Gee, Baby Ain’t I Good To You,” and yes, I thanked the mountain creeks and rocks for being kind to me.


Back at Bark Camp Lake aid station, Terry insisted that I change shirts again. I questioned him but ultimately, I agreed that as it became dark, I would be colder. B asked Terry for some pliers and he fixed his trekking pole. We refilled, took advantage of the bathroom one more time, and took off. This time, B’s pacer, A, accompanied us. Maybe two miles out of Bark Camp, I was stung suddenly by a bee that I never saw. I cursed the bee but kept going. My inner thigh throbbed about halfway up, where the bee stung me. I was certain that I saw the stinger fall out when I stopped to go to the bathroom.

At Edith Gap aid station, they updated us on who had dropped out, where KM was, the difficulty of the trails as nightfall blanketed us, and more. We took off again, and B gave one of his trekking poles to A somewhere along the way. They led the way, and I drifted back as I ran out of water and then the liquid food in my handheld bottle. It became dark, so B and I turned on our headlamps. I chewed a Saltstick, and that perked me up for a little while. I noticed a headlamp approaching me from below in the creek, but it wasn’t on the correct trail. It was well below the trail that everyone was supposed to be on. Already KM had passed us again, we thought. That was the third time, we thought. He was almost finished with two sections of what we hadn’t even completed once. I shouted down to the headlamp in the creek. She shouted back to me that she was lost. I directed her until she reached us on the higher trail.

We followed B and A until we couldn’t find a marker in a deserted and abandoned parking lot. We noticed lights from what looked like a log house. We all said that we hadn’t noticed a house earlier. The woman runner was positive there wasn’t a house. I remembered the abandoned parking area, but not a house. We split up and searched for a marker. After a couple of minutes, I found a streamer hanging from a tree and then a reflective marker. I shouted for everyone and we took off again, B and A led the way on the climb back to High Knob, and we were passed by several 100 mile runners headed back down the trail for their second out and back.

There, at High Knob, my family ran toward me, happily greeting me. I refilled, climbed in our car to get warm in the heat and changed clothes. I had already decided that I would eat chicken noodle soup in the night. I haven’t eaten land animals in about two and a half years. I do eat seafood, fish, eggs, and dairy products on a regular basis. I knew the choices of warm soup foods would be potato soup or chicken broth/soup, and I had already made up my mind to make an exception. Sugars usually bother my stomach when I run, and potatoes especially feel like a chunk of coal in my belly. I was ready for the chicken soup, and I ate about four cups of it. I was warm and felt replenished.

B texted me and said that he and A were going to sleep for a little while in his girlfriend A’s car. He didn’t know if he would continue or not, but he was going to sleep first.

I decided to go forward. If I stopped or slept, I would get stiff. When I fall asleep, I usually do so for a long time. I don’t like short naps. I was hesitant about continuing. I considered dropping down to 50km and just heading back down the mountain to the finish in Norton, but I reasoned that I was already over 50km and I might as well take my time and hike the remainder even if I used the full forty hour time limit. My daughter Zoe begged me to continue. I couldn’t believe that she was so encouraging. Both of my daughters told me that I could do it. Terry said that I could do it.

I went to the aid station and asked about the trail ahead, refilled everything, kissed Terry and our daughters, and took off. First, I headed down a paved road listening to WILD NIGHT by Van Morrison, “wild night is calling” then onto a gravel road, Sentry Road. Light sticks lined one side of the road and were dropped every thirty to fifty feet or so.


The sky was incredibly magical. Expansive as I ploughed over the ridgeline, hiking, not running, listening and giving music to the night of the forest. The mountain falling away to either side. Trees rotating up and away from the ridgeline, pointed forms, limbs reaching as webbings while holding the webbing of spiders and nests. My own form striding across to the sounds of Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald’s UNDER A BLANKET OF BLUE “Covered with heaven above. Just you and I beneath the stars, wrapped in the the arms of sweet romance, the night is ours.” I loved being in the night on the trail, with the forest, knowing that so many people were out here, sprinkled into the landscape with me that I was just fine to enjoy it. KM passed me again, and he was headed to the last aid station before the finish. Or at least I thought it was him.

I was enthralled with the forest itself, as if it is a being all its own, so “I’ll always always keep the memory of…” THEY CAN’T TAKE THAT AWAY FROM ME. “We may never meet again on the bumpy road…” I strode on toward Devil’s Fork Loop that contained The Devil’s Bathtub.

Before that though, I had to find the turn off Sentry Road. The full moon continuously looked like the lights of an aid station in the distance. It kept fooling me. I texted B and told him about the roads, feeling certain that he would continue if he knew the conditions ahead. He texted back that he was waking up A and they were heading out in about five minutes.

I felt the chicken noodle soup wearing thin, and the wind whipped across the peaks. I saw red beady eyes in the forest and made noises. Woo woo!! I passed a few runners. More red beady eyes with silhouettes that resembled bear?😂 I made noise, woo woo! Then, I thought that I saw something that truly scared me to the point that I ran—a skunk! I slowed down to a hike and turned up the music again, “Waitin for the bus all day…” and I was feeling pretty good that I hadn’t been sprayed by a skunk by the time I asked for broth at Sentry Road aid station.

The fire as we approached each aid station was a beacon. I waited to smell it every time, knowing we were close. I needed those moments to recharge. Taking four and five cups of broth, sometimes standing by the fire, then saying thank you and taking off again.

Aid station moments were when I turned off my music and talked to people, asked them about the trail, told them about my experience, listened to aid station volunteers tell their own stories about other runners or the trail. This is the stuff of a great story. A book, I thought, and headed out again, hiking. Everyone was wondering if KM was going set the course record. I knew more stories about him were coming along the trail.

I walked again, down an old logging road that I described later as “quite nice” but I was slow and sluggish, wondering what was coming next.

Approaching the Devil’s Fork Loop, of course SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL was on my mind, and I found myself sounding it out, woo woo! just like being at the concert and hearing fans catcall the Devil all the way out of the stadium. I passed runners coming out of the Devil’s section.

My music picked up and carried me a little faster as I got to the Fork. I started to see a headlamp ahead and was happy about it. The stories about the bathtub had a rhythm that made you want to pair up with someone. Nightmares on Wax mixed up some DEEP DOWN as I partnered with another runner and made the fork into the loop. I met T and followed him as the loop went round and round and round and across and across and across giant rock gardens in every part that we thought might be the Devil’s Bathtub. I felt as if I was going down the drain at one point, only to climb a little ways out of it. We climbed over plenty of trees in the dark and balanced on the edge of the tub, in the dark, in the deepest gorge on the race, in the dark. My cell service was out and I couldn’t warn B about the state of the bathtub. I worried about it. T said that B was going to be pissed with me and laughed. We crossed many many creeks. I moved the music up and down, really relying on the music when we didn’t have the light to help us and appreciate the nature around us. Yes, we wore headlamps. For both of us, it was our first ultramarathon through the night on the trail. For both of us, it was our first run past 50 miles and the highest elevation ranges and fluctuations. Needless to say, it was an experience beyond what either of us was expecting as we both discussed while trying to navigate the trail, find the direction, and not fall onto a rock and break an ankle, or leg. We got truly lost off the course only once and not very far. We returned and were careful not to lose sight of the markers.

T sounded perplexed by the trail. “How would they even get someone out of here if they broke their leg?” I suggested that paramedics could drop down on lines from a helicopter if a life and death situation were to occur. I’m not sure T took comfort in that scenario. We both took comfort in the fact that the creeks were mostly dry. T asked something like, “How do we even explain to someone what this is like?” And then he continued, “I couldn’t bring my kids on this hike. I don’t even think I would do this hike with my wife. It’s that difficult.” I agreed. I wouldn’t do this Devil’s Fork Loop hike with my family even if they parked at the parking area, which T and I both thought we would see at any. moment.

However, the Devil’s Loop still felt never ending and slow slow slow until we finally! heard the generator from the aid station at Devil’s Fork Parking lot. I happily said, “I smell exhaust.” We both thought it was funny that I was happy over the smell of exhaust when we signed up for this nature experience. Down the stairs to the aid station. Still going down.

More broth! Hit me again with the broth! That’s what I felt like at the aid station. I got my second headlamp out of my drop bag as my first had begun to dim in the last mile. T decided to steal away and get a ride with his friends. He told the aid station volunteer that he was dropping out. I got the scoop on the trail ahead and was also informed about KM when he came through the Devil’s Gate earlier. Even though I never asked about him, everyone told me about him. Led Zeppelin’s HOW MANY MORE TIMES rocked me on out of the Devil’s Fork aid station, where I had been warned about the steep grade on the climb out that would go on for about two miles, maybe two and a half.

And of course a trip around the Devil’s place wouldn’t be complete without The Stones again on the way out, “I’m the man on the mountain that says, ‘Come on up,’” and I had a fresh water bottle of food, a full camelback and LOVING CUP was perfect as I climbed up, up, up. “What a beautiful buzz,” and I laughed thinking about being stung so early and continuing. “Nitty. Gritty.”

I had to dig in to get up and out of there, Gramatik TALK THAT SLANG clapped and I kept up my mantra, hiking and forward. Moving with rhythm. Moving. Noticing. Red beady eyes. Bear? Could I be sure? “Ohh” “wooo,” “woowoo!” scurrying to one side and the other. Shit! Who’s there? I jumped to the side. Really? No one answered, but I could swear that was a person. MFer. Nightmares on Wax FLIP YA LID just making me wonder a little bit, and shake my head, go forward. Whistle. Whistle. Head bob. Whistle and head bob. The forest is beautiful. Head on and don’t even think about Wood Boogers.

I was listening to MUY TRANQUILO when I saw two red beady eyes and a definite bear form very close to the trail in front of me. A big bear. The only one I’m certain about, but they seem to appear for me and have quite often this year (I saw 4 in one day this summer, really, in broad daylight, and one was licking bark on trees, probably eating bugs and/or sap, and trying to get away from me…bear show up for me). I made disco owl noises again and the bear sprinted across the trail and down into the forest. Definitely one bear😉.

I was waiting for the aid station when the moon started playing tricks on me in the distance again, but I knew that I was getting close after I passed the fork in the loop. Straight ahead I made it back to Sentry Road.

I drank broth. They told me that KM had finished. A 100miler and his pacer who were sitting at the fire asked me about the state of the bathtub. I told them that the daylight would be better for them because it was a challenge in the dark. I refilled everything, took a Saltstick, drank more broth, and felt amazing as I headed back to High Knob as dawn approached.

I passed 100 mile runners coming my way, ready for the Devil’s Fork. They asked me how it was, how far was the next aid station, and I encouraged them all and let them know what to expect. Good things: the aid station was close, the road was nice, the loop was tough but dry and light when they got there.


About halfway up Sentry Road, I turned off my headlamp. I soaked in the beauty, the spaciousness, the feeling of being alive in that moment in that place and it was sublime. I passed R who I’d met early on and his feet still looked good in the sandals. I wished him well.

Up one of the last hills on Sentry Rd, G caught up to me. I met him at a few aid stations and at least once on the trail, but it was those times when I was either talking to someone else or leaving or being in my own headspace as happens, so we finally talked as we approached High Knob. I learned that G was a born athlete and had been a runner since high school. I thought he was probably 60 years old. We didn’t discuss age though. We talked about who we are, little bits of information telling stories that were in our hearts. G was a great companion up to High Knob. He gave me plenty of useful advice by talking about his own life from his experience. It wasn’t an intentional, let me give you advice type of conversation. It was by being present that I learned from his stories.

At High Knob, G’s wife met him. Terry drove up just as we were approaching the aid station. I told G that I’d see him at the end or rather, “Good luck” and “nice to have met you” because I knew that G would beat me in to the finish. He was an experienced 100 miler and was ready to finish this run. I was in the newness of the experience and I both wanted to play it safe and savor it. And, that’s what I did.


I ate again, took advantage of the portajohn, hugged Terry, and then headed out for the final leg of the trek. I messaged my best friend Jennie, my friend Lisa, and my mom.
I turned up the music and took my time. By then, my IT band was hurting on a leg that I had hurt during a fall about two weeks previously. Of course, the leg wasn’t ever injured to the point of needing medical help. I ran a half marathon and 10 milers almost daily for weeks after the fall, but the elevation coupled with the length of the race inflamed it. I focused on one step at a time and the music. TRANQUILO by Gramatik was playing so I allowed myself to be a kid skipping down the mountain at times in the loops, down stone stairs, “Jumping off the porch like Mom’s not home…” threading along the mountain, “run with the feeling of being alive” and enjoying KINGS OF SUMMER by ayokay and Quinn XCII.

This descent was tangible inside every part of me and I thought about the footfalls, the miles before, the books I was writing, how I wasn’t even hungry, how I was still cold, the many footfalls before my own on the mountain, the power of earth to create, and how I love to create. I wanted to ride bikes across the Netherlands with Terry. I wanted to do that very soon. “LOVE IS HERE TO STAY not for a year but ever and a day…” again Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong serenaded me and sang the feelings of my heart.

That IT band kept telling me to take it slow so I did. I thought that I was close to the base of the mountain only to have another layer reveal itself. Layer upon layer down, over a dam, and down down down again. Two runners passed me and one said, “when does this race ever end?” Down, down, down, and still going. Big Mama was even singing BALL AND CHAIN. “My Love holds on like a ball chain.” I was talking to the mountain by then. I was so ready to go. 99 PROBLEMS by Hugo was reminding me to keep it going, “make the Devil change his mind,” and I was definitely happy that I wasn’t at the Devil’s Bathtub right then, and then there it was, the road! Pavement to lead me back in to Norton.


I passed flowers and stopped to take a picture. Walking, I enjoyed the sun warming me. I soaked in those last few minutes and walked into Norton. As I crossed the bridge, I decided to run. As cheesy as it seemed on one level, and very appropriate on another, Voodoo Child played right on cue, and I laughed at the synchronicity of life as I turned the last corner. I laughed looking to my right toward the mountains. I saluted them and continued running until I saw my family waiting for me at the turn off the road and into the parking lot of the farmer’s market. I crossed the finish line at 11:17 on Sunday and got my medal, hugged my family.
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I took off the tracking strips that were pinned to my pants and gave them to the race director. A woman was talking with two other runners. She said that a local experienced hiker had died in the Devil’s Bathtub back in the spring, that he had fallen, lost his footing, and broken his neck instantly. I was glad that I didn’t know that before my trek through the bathtub, but I shivered thinking that I had sort of known it and had gone slowly through it.

My family and I took pictures, communicated with family and friends, and headed back to the hotel.

I worried immediately about B. I texted him and found out that he was at the last aid station back at High Knob. He was going to finish. A was still pacing him.

I didn’t have one blister. I made it to the finish before my goal of noon on Sunday. I had one tiny chafed place on my lower back from the last pair of pants I wore. I was proud that my training, nutrition, and gear worked perfectly for my goals in particular and that I didn’t get sidetracked by any other goals. I planned my book and know where I’m headed. I was sore and stiff, but I could walk and climb stairs. B texted that he made it. We were both proud of finishing a tough distance and elevation gain.

My legs did swell for a short time as we traveled back and the next day. I took a walk the next day and the day after that. I only had one muscle cramp that really hurt. I taught my yoga class three days later and it felt great.

I know this moment in my life will inform much more in the future. For now, I am writing, resting, practicing yoga, and planning new adventures. I am also feeling immense gratitude for the race organizers, the community of Norton, the volunteers, my family as my crew and cheerleaders, my friends who cheered, the people I met along the way, B and his crew A&A, and the mountain itself.
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Partial Playlist (set to shuffle):
“Decibel” by Analog Affair
“Make Them Wheels Roll” by Safia
“Gee Baby Ain’t I Good to You” by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong
“Wild Night” by Van Morrison
“Under a Blanket of Blue” by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong
“They Can’t Take That Away From Me” by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong
“Waitin’ for the Bus” by ZZ Top
“Sympathy for the Devil” by The Rolling Stones
“Deep Down” by Nightmares on Wax
“How Many More Times” by Led Zeppelin
“Loving Cup” by The Rolling Stones
“Talk That Slang” by Gramatik
“Flip Ya Lid” by Nightmares on Wax
“Muy Tranquilo” by Gramatik
“Tranquilo” by Gramatik
“Kings of Summer” by ayokay and Quinn XCII
“Love is Here to Stay” by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong
“Ball and Chain” by Big Mama Thornton
“99 Problems” by Hugo
“Voodoo Child” by Jimi Hendrix

I’m definitely not a sponsored runner, but for what it’s worth, these are products that worked for me: Altra Trail shoes, Saltstick Caps Plus and Saltstick Chews for electrolytes and vitamins about 10-15 total, Squirrel Nut Butter anti-chafe stick applied liberally all over feet to neck pretty much, CEP compression socks worn through many runs, Swiftwick socks with holes and worn through many runs, Nathan bladder and tubing for my camelback, Vitargo fruit punch vegan muscle food, Black Diamond trekking poles, Northface gloves, various ball caps, cheap stretchy gloves with the thumb and pointer finger cut out, old Underarmor clothes I’ve worn through a lot of runs. I always carry a small Mojo bag, and this one was gifted by my Terry, and among other things contained a small rose quartz angel, a couple of small wild turkey feathers, a rock with a flower-shaped fossil creating an opening in the center….

**Notes: Series of events and who said what is to the best of my memory. I do read newspapers every day, so though tv is not in my life on a regular basis, I am informed about my world (it’s possible to skip tv and be more informed). Placement on course descriptions is approximate. Definitely edited for clarification a dozen times.

Nutrition: Plugging In Half Way for Longevity

Lately, I’ve been unplugging for part of the day, not long stretches of days, and I’ve decided to be even more investigative in my endeavors and interests. Confession: I had to do this due to circumstances in my life anyway. First of all, I got an injury. I pulled the pectoralis minor muscle on one side of my chest and that made breathing quite painful if I took a breath deeper than 70-80%. That muscle sits deep in the chest under the pectoralis major, and it lifts the rib cage every time you take a breath, and it stretches from about the breastbone to the armpit. I have a strong pranayama practice and trail running routine that was growing more each week, and I thought that I was following my natural rhythm and growth. However, I now see that my growth required an additional focus and mentality.

In my practice, all of these changes in nutrition and physical practice resulted in some effects in my body that I didn’t recognize. Over a year ago, I gave up meat, and though I am a pescatarian (contining to eat some fish, seafood, and dairy), I am landbound so the availability of wild seafood and fish is limited. I don’t get enough of it to maintain healthy levels of vitamin B12. This is not something I had considered. I should note that I don’t take supplements of any kind and eat little to no fortified foods. I prepare plenty of processed foods for my family and eat very little of it. Surprisingly, fatigue and depression set in, some strange incidences of fingers and toes tingling and feeling slightly numb, etc. I started to retain water in my legs even though I was running (often 10+) miles per day. My metabolic rate dropped drastically, though I was active, not drinking alcohol, and eating the best fruits, vegetables, and sometimes dairy and fish that I could get.

I plugged in enough to find out what this meant. I quickly learned that vegetarians (various types) and vegans often need B12 injections or fortified foods with B12 added to the products.

That has led me to further investigate the source of fortified B12 in vegan and vegetarian pre-packaged foods. I care about this for many reasons. Those mentioned above but also because I have a meat allergy from a Texas Lonestar tick bite. My conversion to eating vegetables was at first by force of nature. I went into an anaphylaxis reaction to both beef and pork about six years ago after the tick bite. I will not eat either of them due to that condition. I don’t want to take that chance with my health. I stopped eating poultry over a year ago simply because I didn’t want to consume it anymore. It’s also much cheaper to eat raw foods (vegetables and fruits) when they are available than to eat meat, so after a modicum of moaning about it, I shrugged and allowed all of the meats to pass me by without any sadness on my part. Usually, frozen fruits and vegetable options are available most places, so it’s still relatively cheap to eat fruits and vegetables, even if they aren’t fresh. As I mentioned earlier, I do eat dairy and didn’t react to the dairy products from cows. I only reacted with anaphylaxis to consuming the meat from animals. So, dairy from cows and goats is an option. Eggs are a cheap option for protein, and where I live, almost everyone has a chicken coup and thus, we have an abundance of eggs. Still, dairy and eggs don’t provide a high amount of vitamin B12, so I can’t consume enough of those products to make up for the B12 I’ve been missing.

B12 is vital to energy levels, metabolism, brain functions, athletic performance, etc. As my running distances increased while training for the ultra, and my yoga teaching and practice intensified over the summer, and I unplugged to get into all of that, I made the decision to stop eating fish and seafood (switch completely to vegetarian), so I quit the fish altogether and began weaning myself off the little bit of seafood I was consuming sometimes. My body slowly reacted with the above conditions, and I didn’t notice the collective information that my body was telling me.

A pulled muscle stopped me, and reluctantly, I eased up on everything (so I said, but really, I just kept going). Then, more bumps, a fall down the deck stairs, and it was time to do some research. The answers all came quickly and easily.

I believe that every body is unique and must answer to the chemistry within the body’s system. I honor that connection to my body, that knowledge ensures that my body and mind stay connected, and my productivity and quality of enjoyment are in sync. For my body to be in optimal health, I discovered what I need to eat specific to my body’s reaction. Plugging in helped me to find the answers that work for me. I read the statistics and experiences of other pescatarians, various vegetarians and/or vegans to find out what might help me, and those sites and writings did help me discover the nourishment that works best for me. My body has healed and is back at optimal health, and none of the issues mentioned above exist anymore (with the exception of the allergies to meat).

We’re all playing with the scales (I’m referring to food scales here, not your body weight scales, though that could work in this context, too) in our lives, trying to find the balance again and again as life shifts and changes. Perhaps we are sometimes too blind to the effects of what we consume, not seeing the chemical reactions that occur in mind and body. Perhaps sometimes we think that we are making the best decision based on a spiritual practice or the guidance of a diet specific to someone else’s needs. The scales are ours alone, and what we place on them changes based on our unique body’s reactions to our nutrition. Answering the body’s needs during changes in our lives is vital to longevity.

Savoring the Words: Unplugging Part 3

While I was unplugged, I read Tennyson’s Idylls of the King, mostly aloud to my dog, Mojo. He enjoyed the readings and would get very cozy and doze off to sleep after about twenty minutes of reading. I have an edition from the early 1900s and the pages flake sometimes, but I toted the little hardback around the house and allowed it to rest in my jacket pocket, where it fit so neatly and carried the appropriate heft for such a literary work. I could feel it there, the strength of those ideas and words. I love the way that Tennyson lingers on a description, crafting it out the long way. I found myself longing for the space, the way of wading into words and stories of old without the rush of time, the interruptions of technological life, and the self-consciousness of minimalism dragging the story down and making it less than it is…less reading enjoyment, less wandering in the world of a tale, less words.

I’ve also dwelt more on the words I write–in correspondence to others, in blog posts, and in my novel writing. I’ve allowed myself the words I want to use without making it less for the sake of other people.

The idea that I should shorten my statements and lessen my self-expressions is something I began when I first got a phone that would send text messages, and I was a late adopter so that was about 2011. Prior to that, I was quite old-fashioned (and still am) in my style of lengthy correspondence (and I prefer handwritten letters). After getting a smart phone, I very quickly learned that the majority of people I knew expected a text that involved as few words as possible. In fact, I wasn’t treated very well when I sent a text message that contained sentences. Some of my friends were downright rude, and justified their rude behavior based on popular culture. It was more okay to be rude via minimal text message than to communicate in complete sentences, even if they were short sentences. Being rude was cool; thoughtful communication was not cool. Finally, I experience changes to the above scenario, and many of my friends now communicate more akin to my own style of communication (and, I’m grateful for that).

All of this has reaffirmed my commitment to print books and handwritten letters. I’ve returned to my in-progress novels with renewed determination to finish them and to give them the full breadth that they deserve as stories, to use my breath as words penned down to the page, a motion of creation that has moved through my body and been born onto the page. As I breathe and read the words, write the words, speak the stories, they have lived inside of me. Yes, our stories do live any way, but there is no surer way of saving them for someone almost one hundred years later, and another hundred years later, and another hundred years later, than to tell the whole story out onto the page while loving the words and the process of creating with them.

Unplugging more has also reaffirmed my love of the spoken word and reading aloud. When I read stories and listen to the sound of the story, a new depth is present. There’s so much to discover in listening.

Yoga Schedule

​​Many people have asked me to create a place where all of my yoga classes and activities are listed. Yoga and writing are wrapped up together in my life, so I have many activities related to both. Sometimes, I even throw running into the mix, and there will be classes listed soon that are specifically FOR runners. You can also find this list with even more information at the thorncraftpublishing.com website. I definitely update that site much more frequently than my blogsite here, but I will try to keep it updated monthly here with a schedule since I teach in places and spaces a little different than your neighborhood yoga studio.

Classes by Shana Thornton, 200RYT:

For classes at Tennessee State Parks, participants can register at tnstateparks.com under ALL EVENTS. Detailed class descriptions are located on the TN State Parks website. Choose the date you would like to attend from the list on the Tennessee State park website.

UPCOMING CLASSES:

Dunbar Cave State Natural Area, a TN State Park

$10 per person.

6:30 p.m. – 7:30 p.m., Saturday, August 4, 2018: Candlelight Yoga at the Cave

6:30 p.m. – 7:30 p.m., Saturday, August 18, 2018: Candlelight Yoga at the Cave

6:30 p.m. – 7:30 p.m., Thursday, August 23, 2018: Candlelight Yoga at the Cave (final Thursday night of the season)

6:30 p.m. – 7:30 p.m., Saturday, August 25, 2018: Candlelight Yoga at the Cave

6 p.m. – 7 p.m., Saturday, September 8, 2018: Candlelight Yoga at the Cave (Final Class until Summer 2019)

Montgomery Bell State Park, a TN State Park
Saturdays, Summer 2019. More Information Coming Soon with a full monthly yoga schedule…

Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Clarksville
$10 per person.
4p.m. – 5:15 p.m., Sunday, August 5, 2018.
Gentle class. Candlelight. Mats available. Beginners welcome. Yoga Nidra at the end of practice.

Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Clarksville
$10 per person.
10a.m. – 11:15 a.m., Thursday, August 9, 2018.
Gentle class. Candlelight. Mats available. Beginners welcome. Yoga Nidra at the end of practice.

Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Clarksville
$10 per person.
10a.m. – 11:15 a.m., Thursday, August 16, 2018.
Gentle class. Candlelight. Mats available. Beginners welcome. Yoga Nidra at the end of practice.

Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Clarksville
$10 per person.
4 p.m. – 5:15 p.m., Sunday, August 19, 2018.
Gentle class. Candlelight. Mats available. Beginners welcome. Yoga Nidra at the end of practice.

Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Clarksville
$10 per person.
10a.m. – 11:15 a.m., Thursday, August 23, 2018.
Gentle class. Candlelight. Mats available. Beginners welcome. Yoga Nidra at the end of practice.

Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Clarksville
$10 per person.
10a.m. – 11:15 a.m., Thursday, August 30, 2018.
Gentle class. Candlelight. Mats available. Beginners welcome. Yoga Nidra at the end of practice.

Upcoming Workshop:
Yoga and Writing Exploration Workshop

2p.m. – 5 p.m., Saturday, August 25, 2018.
At Yoga Mat studio. 227 Dunbar Cave Rd. Clarksville, TN.
Register on the MINDBODY APP. $15 per person
Explore writing techniques and styles of yoga. Discover the creativity and self-expression of blending writing and yoga in this 3-hour workshop. From meditation to pranayama to flow styles of yoga, this workshop will give you an opportunity to explore yoga and writing as you grow in your practice and voice.
Workshop teachers: Shana Thornton, 200RYT, editor of the BreatheYourOMBalance yoga book series, and Amanda Rush, 200RYT, writer and co-owner of Yoga Mat studio.

With all three practices (writing, yoga, and running), I will always be a student first, a listener. I am also truly a Registered Yoga Teacher with Yoga Alliance. You can find me on their registry here. I keep up with my hours and extra studies. My practice is always growing.

I do publish a yoga book series, BreatheYourOMBalance, which is also a registered trademark. We do accept outside work for the book series during open reading periods. Visit Thorncraft Publishing for information about the book series and open reading times.

Wishing you all easy breaths,
Shana