bullfrog

climbing the walls of our will, numb and detached from purpose, deep in despair, entertained to near death, technologically baffled, compulsively obsessed, imagination fraught from lack of use, cut by seven blade razors, telemarketed, stuck on stupid, shot at by solar flares, inundated by cell rays, frozen in synthetic fear frostings, sucking on substitute sugars, dipped in electromagnetic confection, infected by ad campaigns, propped up by pharmaceuticals, shuffling whole food aisles, storage wars won at auction, amassing detritus in space to the gills ... modern life can get pretty blasphemous. i gotta claw my way out of it. chaos toppled by order toppled by chaos. i gotta go deeper. below the muddy quicksand of modern life lies firm and solid virgin ground. bedrock. you cannot see it but it is there. resplendent as the throats of bullfrogs in spring.   #katyamills

run 4 ultra (run 4 life)

March 4th, 2017 in Auburn, California (#wtc50k) was the longest (7hours:46min) and farthest (50 kilometres) I ever ran in my life. Not a particularly impressive pace, just an extreme athletic effort to keep myself in tune with the world and its demands.

This was a trail run through the American River Canyon, with river crossings and over 4,000 feet ascension, and my first major 'norcal ultra' event. I was very excited for a whole lotta fun and adventure, and the only problems I faced leading up to the event were poison oak and heavy rains in January and February in Sacramento where I live and train, which caused the American River to grow and grow, and some of my runs had to be cut short due to trails and water fountains I relied on being deluged and underwater!

K before the 50k

What an exciting winter -2017- watching the drought in our region come to a muddy and verdant conclusion! The same could be said of my run.

I arrived with my boyfriend by my side in the little town of Cool, and we parked the VW and met up with my brother by the starting line (along with 999 other runners) where the little ultra village was setting up. I realized I had forgotten my inhaler and found the medical tent where a very kind lady (one of the volunteers) decided to rescue me with her own inhaler, which she ran off to get from her car. She would be the first of many volunteers who stood out for me this day, and without whose support I never would have finished the race. I am grateful to them all!

famous wtc frog cupcakes

We took a couple pics and I did a little dance on a snapchat my brother recorded for my nieces to enjoy, and before long I was off with the second wave, running down the access road past our little cheering norcal family assembled there on this little hill, heading for the muddy canyon trails. I was wearing my New Balance Leadvilles and my Run the Parkway shirt from last November's 20-mile run in Sacramento, which was my first ever race. I hit a wall pretty hard in that race, then made it through the CIM (one month later) without a bonk (my first road marathon). I had to wonder, was I headed for disaster today, or another strong and even finish?

#ULTRA!

finished my first norcal ultra! #wtc50k

8 hours. turtle frog

thanks 2 all the volunteers and safety sweeps

who made this event possible and 

great fun in Cool, CA! 

k - wtc50k - finish

punk. another treatment

moment to moment
you keep drifting
or sink

be a lilypad
think about the frogs to come
and how best to support them

or leave
fall from a tree
scratch the water's surface

sink to the pond floor
nestle with anaerobic 
scum

week to week we
face the bleakness
around us 

(you can)
color it in

give it the middle finger 
if you really care
sometimes

that's punk.
really caring

Pale in comparison

When all has gone to hell, and you wonder where has gone your life, romantic, and think you know its never gonna materialize for ya... try and go deeper. Deeper below the muddy muck, lies firm and solid virgin ground. Always. You cannot see this. The obvious senses fail to sense it. But like any unknown future sweet heart friend, the end of mankind numb and detached from his purpose and climbing the walls of his will, six feet deep in despair, walled in by walmart, targeted by target, entertained to near death, technologically baffled, compulsively obsessed, imaged in selfie stew, face cut by seven blade razors, telemarketed, stuck on stupid, shot at by solar flares, inundated by cell rays, frozen in fear frosting, sucking on substitute sugars, dipped in electromagnetic confection, infected by ad campaigns, propped up by viagra, shuffling whole food aisles, dripping wet with pharmaceuticals, sexting with sextetris puzzle pieces piling up to game over like dome storage war won at auction and amassed in space to the gills....
is not without a certain possibility of the dream girl hidden and ready to strike out hopeful into your cigar-fog atmosphere from the fake cake they rolled out at the fat cat corporate party, pale as the throat of a bullfrog in spring, in comparison.