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BARV, Soybeans, and Sonic Booms – Misty at the Big Tesuque Trail Run

Fellow TALON athlete, Misty Davis, recently completed the New Mexico, Big Tesuque Trail Run (results summary). Her entertaining report was forwarded on to me and I thought you all would enjoy the read as well.

After hours of negotiations with her tough team of ¬†lawyer-like henchmen, Misty graciously permitted the global distribution of her 11.6 mile journey up to 12,000 feet…and back.

Enjoy! ūüôā

I went out of my mind again and signed up for another race: The Big Tesuque Trail Run. ¬†This one starts at 10,000 ft elevation just below the Santa Fe Ski Basin and tops out at 12,043 ft. ¬†It’s 5.8 miles up, and 5.8 miles back down for a total of 43 miles. ¬†Check my math will you? ¬†Fine. ¬†It’s 11.6 miles. ¬†But it felt like 72.

But first, my friends Dan and Laura, in a total collapse of good judgment put me in charge of their boys (11 and 15) AND gave me the keys to their minivan.  So they could celebrate 17 years of married bliss (boom chicka wa wa!  If you know what I mean, and I think you do: wink wink).  They wanted to take their Big Ass RV to a local-ish hot springs.  This happened on Friday:

Me: Laura, I don’t remember how to get to your house.

Laura: Oh, honey child. ¬†Just look for the Big Ass RV. ¬†It’s taking up not only our driveway, but it’s butt is in the street.

We drive up.

Caveman (my boyfriend and adventure partner in crime): That is a Big Ass RV!

No diggity. ¬†It is the size of one of those touring buses that hauls around rock stars who you know are partying their socks off until it pulls into your local Wendy’s. You don’t know whether to be scared or intrigued because all these people pile out: drunk rock stars, frustrated business managers, and pierced ladies of the day and/or night who are dying for you to be absolutely shocked, or cool enough to axe about their tattoos while they are wondering if they should call their parents. ¬†Meanwhile, you are switching your order “to go”. ¬†Dan and Laura do not fit into this category. ¬†Anymore.

We got a tour of the mobile palace. ¬†That was cool. ¬†I’m loving the fact that across the street, the neighbors are hooking up electricity to the Recreational Vehicle version of a chiclet. ¬†This tiny white sanitary version of Big Ass RV hopes and dreams.

Me:  I think your neighbors are probably cracking their blinds and staring at the Big Ass RV seething with jealousy.  They are charging a tic-tac.

Dan & Laura: Oh, we know.  This thing is the scourge of the neighborhood.

And then, it was down to the business of making sure their kids would survive a Weekend With Misty:

Laura: So if you would like to experience driving the cool minivan, I’m leaving the keys for you.

Me: Minivan! ¬†I can’t drive a minivan! I have a rep to protect.

Dan: I can take off three of the hubcaps?

Not funny, Dan. ¬†Okay, it is. ¬†Caveman’s laughing at me too.

Us: Bye, Laura and Dan! ¬†Please don’t abandon your kids with the likes of me!

Caveman: Bye BARV!


Caveman: Big Ass RV, Duh.

– Caveman is a study in economy. ¬†He calls it and that’s one of the many reasons why he’s awesome.

Friday night, I am questioning my ability to be able to run this dumb race. ¬†I really had only one good run in since Imogene three weeks ago, and replaced the running void with potatoe chips and stuff and junk. ¬†It’s not helping that my pre-race meal is ribeye, butter with squash (!), IPA, and awesome neighbors. ¬†I’m saying, “yeah, I don’t know. ¬†I have this race but the weather is supposed to get ugly, it’s so unpredictable at that altitude”. ¬†But what I really mean is “I’m lazy, I don’t want to get up at 6 am on a Saturday morning, and I’m worried I’ll come in last”.

And then – are you sitting down? – I turned down beers and hot tubs for responsitility. ¬†I had to make sure two boys weren’t throwing a wild party and/or conducting chemical experiments in the kitchen that would culminate in a HAZMAT disaster.

I promised the 11 year old in my charge that I would wake him up in case he wanted to come with us. ¬†What kind of sick pre-teen wants to get up in the middle of the night just to traipse around Santa Fe while I run in the mountains? ¬†Instead of an addiction to video games, Lady Gaga and sleeping until the wee hours of the afternoon, this boy’s parents had to be all awesome and raise an awesome kid. ¬†ANNOYING. ¬†Because, I was banking on him not wanting to go. ¬†I NEEDED him to not want to go. ¬†He was my ticket to waking up whenever and coffee and my Cheez-its Breakfast of Champions.

Me at 6 bells: *tap tap* Hey, dude. ¬†Do you want to go? ¬†The weather is supposed to be okay, but it will probably be cold, really boring, and maybe rabid bears and sweaty old people wanting to pinch your cheeks all over the place and talk about how cute you are…

Awesome Kid: Okay, I’ll go. ¬†I’ll be ready in a minute.

And he was. ¬†Ready in a minute. ¬†Like Superman, except his phone booth was the bathroom. ¬†He went in an 11 year old zombie, and came out exactly 55 seconds later all coolness right down to his Chucky T’s (sans laces, of course).

Me: REALLY!?! Dangit.  Hey, would you like a delicious bowl of Benadryl cereal?

Him: Nah. ¬†I’m just really happy to be able to go and spend time with you.

Me: *Frantically scouring the Yellow Pages for a neurologist who makes house calls because this kid seriously needs a check-up from the neck-up*

Well, I did get to take the Minivan of Cool. ¬†‘Cause if I’m driving, that’s how I’m going to roll. ¬†We needed this accommodate one Misty, a 6th grader, one Caveman and his Caveman-lings (girl, 6; boy, 8). ¬†It’s an adventure!

Not much to report on the trip except, we left Albuquerque at sunrise during the first launch of the International Balloon Fiesta. ¬†That was incredible! ¬†The kids were going nuts and I was filled with joy that I could have so much fun at 7 am on a Saturday morning with a bunch of people I’m crazy about, most of them under legal drinking age. ¬†Who have I become? ¬†I’ll answer for you: ME. ¬†And that rules.

Yes I know I am the Queen of Tangential Mind Farts.  Back to the race.

Caveman and the kids left me at the drop-off to go have breakfast in Santa Fe and talk about me behind my back.  The start was at the Aspen Vista parking lot, right near the ski lodge.  Only about 150 or so people went bonkers and signed up for this also.

You know you’re in trouble when everyone looks like they are in desperate need of a sandwich. ¬†That means everyone is faster than you, because they train so much and are so damn hungry they run fast in order to get their celebratory soybean and orange section when they finish. ¬†Seriously. ¬†Just kidding! ¬†Elite trail runners really do look just like you and me! ¬†If you and me went on an eight week cleansing and photoshopped our heads on people who you could fold in half and push through a keyhole (tm my Mom).

My first mile. ¬†Oy. ¬†I seriously underestimated this sucker. ¬†Even though it’s only a little more than a 2,000 ft climb, there are some steepies. ¬†I figured I had it in the bag because I just climbed 5,000 ft three weeks ago at Imogene. ¬†Ha. ¬†I was positive I was going to quit. ¬†For the first time ever, I almost convinced myself there was NO WAY I was finishing a run. ¬†I’ve run at high altitude, but have started a lot lower and had time to sort of acclimate on my way up. ¬†My feet hurt, my lungs hurt, I’m staring at the calf muscles under the cute running skirts of the uber fit chicks in front of me and feeling like a blob. ¬†And it’s only the first mile!

Then, a miracle happened. ¬†The mile marker sign was coming up while I’m devising a plan to hide behind some pine trees until people started back and then I would plop right back into the thick of things all fresh as a daisy. ¬†Or throw dirt clods at everyone. ¬†While I’m hatching a my devious plan, the mile marker said “2 M”. ¬†Two miles! ¬†I thought it was the longest mile of my life and instead I got a Buy One Get One Free! ¬†I can do this!

Can’t I? ¬†Yep. ¬†So, I just made a decision: Davis, you’re finishing, you will enjoy this beautiful day and you are not going to let yourself down. ¬†Setting my sights on the two people in front of me really helped. ¬†First it was Dottie. ¬†I was breathing down her neck until we were laterally introducing ourselves and sharing exclamations of the beauty surrounding us. ¬†It was gorgeous! ¬†The aspens have turned so the carpet of green pine was splotched with glorious oranges and yellows. ¬†Plus you could see for about one million miles. ¬†One of the many things I appreciated about this race is, I’m pretty sure the trail is an old access road, which means there was plenty of room to pass. ¬†Or *ahem* get passed (not that I know anything about that). ¬†Also, it’s not that technical. ¬†There was about 50 yards of what can barely be described as scree. ¬†Otherwise, it’s a pretty smooth trail. ¬†Not too much rock-hopping.

But hey Dottie, you’re cramping my style. ¬†Gotsta jet. ¬†After mile 3 I was actually feeling pretty good. ¬†And I should know my body well enough by now, it takes me awhile to warm up. ¬†So I put a bead on my next nemesis: this dude who’s gotta be in his 60s. ¬†When he passed me earlier I considered yelling “Whoa, is that Jerry Garcia?” and giving him a friendly shove, but I didn’t. ¬†Because I let him live, I started drafting him. ¬†He would speed up, I would speed up. ¬†He slowed down, and we ran together for a bit. ¬†There was this gal wearing a purple jacket quite a ways in front of us, and he told me that he wanted to catch up to her.

Me: You’re going to have to make it two of us, Senor. ¬†Try not to go deaf in my sonic boom.

And I passed him.  Yes I did say that, and we both started laughing.

It was about 4.5 miles up when the soybean runners started passing us on their way back down. ¬†What I love about races like these is, everyone is so supportive. ¬†Us slowpokes are cheering for the rabbits, and they are yelling “Good Job!” to us. ¬†Well, most of us on the way up were cheering for the winners. ¬†I may or may not have been wishing for some way to fling a stick in their spokes.

Well, after I passed The Gentleman, I decided that I would make Purple Jacket Girl my target also. ¬†She beat me to the top and unfortunately, I decided to fart around for a few minutes. ¬†Drank my Gatorade, offered to take photos of a couple of people, tried to cajole them into shooting my own personal glamor shot¬†of me and nature…

Then I’m off like a rocket! ¬†Ooh, that hurt. ¬†My feet hurt. ¬†It’s the shoes. ¬†My back hurt, it’s the, um, *scientific word*. ¬†My brain hurt, it’s the fact that it’s encased in a Misty head.

I am getting pretty good at running downhill.  I passed a lot of people.  I passed Purple Jacket Girl!  But I was one hurting unit, yo.  In my mind, I was running like an albatross.  Riding a sloth.  Riding a glacial ice floe.

When I had one mile to go, there’s all kinds of dodging hikers and their dogs out for a leisurely stroll who absolutely refuse to obey the rules of the road and kind of start panicking when you show up in sweaty asthmatic glory. ¬†Can you imagine taking Mr. Fluffypants out for a hike and some crazy-ass runner careens around the bend looking like a looney bin escapee sucking on a hydration pack, talking to herself between sips and skidding around like a maniac?

What set me on Ludicrous Speed was this: a couple of hikers yelled “You go girls!”


I have never ever done this. ¬†I belief life is best lived without rear-view mirrors. ¬†I looked behind me. ¬†Purple Jacket Girls was right on my heels. ¬†No way, no day was that happening. ¬†I was all, “LATERZ!” and shifted into turbo. ¬†Before you are too impressed and have to stop reading this because you’re mind is completely rocked by my awesome-ocity: turbo for me is like shifting from 2L to Drive.

Oh, the finish line. ¬†The sweet sweet done-ness of being done. ¬†I had a little cheering section. ¬†There’s Caveman, his awesome kids, and an amazing 11 year old boy seriously reconsidering his decision to latch onto this Motley Crue. ¬†“You can do it Misty!”, “Yay, Misty!”, “Misty, hurry up and finish!”, “Misty you’re so cool!”.

That? ¬†Worth every pain from my feets to the place that is supposed to hold a brain. ¬†Not to mention the hugs from the Caveman-lings and insistence we take pictures because to them, I am Icarus. ¬†And I am soaking it up. ¬†Except for when the tiny sweet six year old jumped on me and my legs almost buckled. ¬†I was also quite delighted at the post-race offerings: coffee, chai (which, yum), and BREAKFAST BURRITOS. ¬†I’ll take the bacon, thank you very much. ¬†Save the veggies for the soybeaners.

I finished in 2:23. ¬†That’s actually pretty awesome, in mortal terms. ¬†However, I was pretty much near last in the pack. ¬†That’s okay because next year? ¬†More tofu, less french fries.

Yeah, right.

A special thank to Misty for sharing her New Mexico adventure with us.

For the ladies – In the next few weeks, Misty will be launching an outdoor community for women. Her site is called girlzilla ( Be sure to check it out.

Be active ‚Äď Feel the buzz!

David ‚Ä

About the author

David Hanenburg David Hanenburg is the passionate dirt-lovin' creator of Endurance Buzz and has been playing in the endurance sports world since 2000 after knockin' the dust off of his Trek 950 hardtail thanks to a friend asking to go ride some local dirt. In 2007 he ran his first ultra on the trails and fell in love with the sport and its people. For more information on David's endurance sports journey, check out the About page.

One Response to “BARV, Soybeans, and Sonic Booms – Misty at the Big Tesuque Trail Run”

  1. on 11 Oct 2010 at 11:45 pm Soybeaner McGee

    Great write-up Misty, and great run. It was too nice of a day last Saturday to find an excuse to quit. I’m glad you teamed up with the old guy, put it together and rocked BigT. A considerable feather in any runner’s hat. Well done.