Maybe it isn't so bad...

I was going to title this post "Not Ready" because I do not feel ready for any of the upcoming events in my life. Of particular note was my failure to complete a true long run this weekend. After 4.5 hours of picking our way down icy slopes and then watching the frozen ground turn to mud as the day warmed, Lindsay and I called it quits at 16 miles on Saturday. I knew I did not have the energy or time for another 16 on Sunday to reach my goal of 59 miles for the week, so I had to let that one go. After having missed my mileage goals for so many weeks in a row anyway, it probably would have been too much anyway. I would settle for 50 miles for the week.

 

 

Lindsay is a great running buddy!

I dragged my tired, stiff body to the trails on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. I have not seen so many people on the trails in months. It was pretty exciting. I trotted up the A-hill and continued across to the ridge along the reservoir. I decided to take a new trail, which resulted in some bushwhacking and bouldering to get back on track without completely back-tracking. Along the way a nice lady yielded to me as I slogged up a narrow, rocky slope. She beamed at me and exclaimed "My, aren't you fit?!" Me? Fit? I mumbled something about how much work it is, and realized that I need to get better at taking compliments. I was also reminded that, although I am the least fit of my running buddies, we are a "special kind of crazy" (a quote from my boss) and I am still a pretty-darned fit individual! That little ego boost buoyed me through several more miles.

An hour or so later, as I returned to the highest point of my run and had just a few downhill miles to go, another encounter pulled me out of the pain cave... A fit woman who looked like she could crush me in any distance race commented on what a great day it was for a run... actually, at this point, I was dragging myself at a slow walk up the last slope... to which I replied "yes, it is. I just wish I weren't so tired." (are you getting the point that I am not so quick with the comebacks on the trail?). She said, "Yep, some days are just like that." Oh yeah. Some days are just like that! I can never be reminded of that enough.

About 1.5 miles from home, I really wanted to stop. I was feeling pathetic at 10 miles I was so tired! How am I ever going to run 55k at Moab in a few weeks? Mantras started running through my head... sometimes you have to suck it up and keep going because you've got to get home somehow... when everything in you wants to stop, that is the time it is most important to keep going... just keep swimming... They had the desired effect and I cruised home on the pavement at a super-quick-for-me 9:00 min. pace.

I decided to change the title of this post after doing a little perspective gathering. I ran 55 miles last week in addition to working and going to school. In that 55 miles, I ran about 10,000 feet in elevation. That has to be a record for me. No wonder I was tired. At Moab, I will have to run about 4500 feet of elevation in 34 miles... well, on Saturday I ran about 3600 in 16 miles... with the vast majority of the climbing done in the first 12... Ok... maybe I can do Moab. What about Bighorn? That has about 4200 feet of elevation over 50 miles and I have months to train (the poor folks doing the 100 miler have 13,000 feet!)... Maybe I can do that one too!

So, I don't feel as ready as I want to be, but it could be worse. I am going to make it through Moab and have a blast doing it. Rather than thinking in terms of improving my time from last year, I am going to set an alternative goal... like just trying to make it back to the car before my fellow FCTRs break into my beer.

Yes, I run for me.

Running is a funny sort of beast. Over the years, I have been a dedicated equestrian, alpine skier, and triathlete and was never had anyone say to me, "Oh, I like riding, but I can't because my knees (back, hips, pinkie finger)." When I embarked on a skiing streak (which lasted 28 days until the lifts were closed due to high winds), no one told me how "intense" I was being even as I braved some horrible conditions to maintain the streak.

Running is unique because it only requires the ability to put one foot in front of the other. Almost everyone has done this. Almost everyone has experienced running of some kind so they can formulate an opinion. If you have had a sandwich, are you able to formulate a judgment about all sandwiches? So it is with running. It comes in many different forms derived from many different purposes.

I started this blog post as a response to haters, but have decided to write it to remind myself and my friends why I do what I do. In the last week I have been called "intense" and "weird" because of my love of running. I don't think that a love that comes from a supportive, happy, healthy community something that needs to be criticized or minimized.

This week friend suggested that my life would be improved if I meditated and joined a "fun, active community" as she reminded me that my goal is to "run for you... no one else."  Clearly, this person does not understand that running is meditation for me. It heals me and allows me to quiet my mind. Sometimes it is hard and I get angry. Sometimes it is amazing and I feel invincible. Sometimes I experience both in one run. It is life condensed. But I am better after every run...

Better. after. Every. Single. Run....

While I am running I have trained myself to build myself up rather than tear myself down. The opposition of the physical and the mental creates a dynamic tension that drives me forward.

I get to do this surrounded by the best possible "fiends". They stop me when I need or want to be stopped. They give me the tools to keep going. They only feed the strong parts of me and they never, ever give credence to the weak, self-pitying parts of me. They create space for the kind of inspiration that an ungrateful person might think came from within. They drive me without pushing... and they do this while laughing, singing, smiling and basically being huge nerds.

I do this without forfeiting other pursuits. In order to work, attend school, walk my dog, ski and bike, I often have to plan carefully and run at odd hours. But, make no mistake, I understand that running is the frosting on my life cupcake. It is something that make everything else that I do sweeter, but it is not the only thing that makes a life. However, at the end of the day running makes me stronger mentally, emotionally, physically, and I has provided me a rich community. For me that is the ultimate goal in life.

So, after a week of struggling with detractors, I spent 2 hours with my community and I am back on track. I feel lucky. My hope for everyone is that they will find the kind of joy I get from running through mountains. My other hope is that I get to run, laugh, joke, and sweat with the amazing folks that keep me centered and ok for many, many years.

Updates...

 It is really cold out today and I think that I would rather write about running than actually run...

Last weekend, a 20 mile run was a real challenge for me. I let myself dwell in the pain cave for a long, long time. I couldn't keep up with my companions (except when I got a little canine assistance), and I felt embarrassed and disheartened. After the run I was really sick for a long while. It was a major bummer.

Then I started to get perspective... I ran 20, fairly hilly miles at 5000 feet elevation, in full winter gear with a hydration pack during a 50 mile week. When I calculated my pace including stops, my pace was only slightly slower than my pace for my one-and-only flat, sea-level marathon. Whoa. Maybe I am getting better! Oh, and the people I couldn't keep up with... well, not only have they completed numerous marathons, but they have all qualified for, and run, the Boston Marathon.

At the end of last week, I was tired... really, really tired. After more than a month of streaking and steadily increasing mileage, adding more speed work, hill work and weightlifting, I was at a low point and had to put some energy into maintaining perspective. This is hard. Running every day is hard. Running 20 miles at a time is hard. Running 50 miles a week, despite being entry-level mileage for my friends, is hard! I am struggling because this is simply hard... but totally worth it.
 

Winning with Mistakes

Three weeks ago, I ran the Blue Sky marathon, my first trail "marathon" and my second marathon. Blue Sky covers over 27 miles of some of my favorite local trails. Not only was it listed by Trail Runner magazine as a "must-run" trail marathon, but it is put on by the most fantastic group of people I have ever met. It is an honor to call these folks my friends.

Me getting aid from Celeste and Maddie at mile 13.

The race is small, but the safety and comfort of runners is their top concern. For me, this is the most important test of race quality. Aid stations were well-stocked with necessities and friendly faces even when supplies had to be driven on rough roads in 4-wheel drive vehicles or hiked in. The course was patrolled by park rangers as well as EMTs on mountain bikes. It was really an amazing event.

I did not come close to my goal for finishing the race. I say that heat is my kryptonite and with temperatures reaching 85 degrees and no shade after mile 11, it was not an ideal race day for me. While I would like to say that my slightly disappointing performance (slightly because, hey, I finished) was all the heat, it was not. I made some mistakes. And I am very proud of these mistakes.

Still smiling at the beginning of the second half

What?!? You ran a less-than-ideal race, didn't make your goal and you are still proud? Yep. You see, normally I am very conservative in races. From my first step, I maintain a pace that I know I can maintain no matter what. I run happy and comfortable. However, I do not push myself. I do not race.

For Blue Sky, I attempted to race. I went out hard, but not too hard. I carried only what I needed and I was focused. I did not spend a lot of time waiting for people or making friends along the way. While I did enjoy the spectacular views and have the occasional exchanges with my fellow runners, I attempted to push myself each step of the way.

By half-way, I was ahead of my goal pace. I was running strong. I had some ups and downs before then, but I felt great at the halfway point. Then I got hot. I was not able to maintain pace. I slowed and felt "bonkish". I did not completely hit the wall, but I was in pain. I slowed. My legs cramped and I found even the most gentle downhill on easy trail almost unbearable. It was a great experience, because I learned a ton.

Slusher, the masters winner, greeted me with a smile at the finish.

Major lesson... It hurts to go slow. The heat causes my heart rate to spike (I learned this last year with a heart rate monitor) and I have a hard time maintaining pace. As I slow, my stride shortens and my hamstrings and calves tighten. I will have to figure out how to deal with this in future races.

Now I have a new goal for Blue Sky next year. I know that I trained hard, and I know that I can train harder. I broke through a mental barrier and I can take that with me to the next race.

Summer Adventures, Part 3

I have to get caught up on these, because the adventures keep coming! This weekend I attended my first Leadville 100 Trail Run. In a word, amazing. I will get to that in a bit.

The next adventure of my summer was the Lake to Lake Triathlon in Loveland, Colorado on June 26. I signed up for the race rather late because I was hesitant to do a road triathlon as it was not really central to my training goals for the year. As it turned out, the race was a special qualifier for the triathlon age group national championships, which were held in my home town of Burlington, Vermont. When I checked last year's results, I realized that, if I had a great day, I might actually be able to make it. So I decided to give it a try. I also would get to train for and participate in the race with my friend Celeste who was doing her first triathlon. Bonus.

Several issues with the logic of setting qualifying for nationals as a goal. It was my first triathlon in Colorado. This meant that not only was the race at altitude, but the course had much more hill-climbing on the bike. Colorado also breeds world-class cyclists like dandelions. They are everywhere. Since the bike is by far my strength, my competitive advantage was all but eliminated out here. Also... it was my second Olympic distance tri ever... it was a very ambitious goal.

I had a blast training with Celeste. It was great to see her confidence and excitement grow as the race approached. But the race snuck up on me. Last year, my first Oly was the DC Triathlon held on June 20. A few weeks before this year's race, I realized that I was in MUCH better shape in June last year. The windy, rainy spring here combined with some serious burn out and I was not running or biking as much as I should in order to be competitive.

The race was a disaster. My age group started with the elites and I spent the whole race trying not to be demoralized by how much I was passed. The swim, a wetsuit legal swim, took me exactly as long as the swim without a wetsuit last year. I was focused on trying to swim fast and I did not swim well.

The bike was ok, but I did occasionally space out and start the enjoy the beauty of the course before reminding myself that I needed to race! A highlight was the group of FCTRs at the bottom of a massive descent. They had gotten up at the crack of dawn to establish themselves (and a boombox) along the course. Their energy really gave me a boost and got my head back in the race as I blew by them at about 25 mph.

At least I had fun on the bike!

The run is where the wheels came off. According to my Garmin, I blazed out of the transition area at a brisk (for me) 8:15 pace. I felt great, but I knew I was going to have to back off. Mile 2 went by at about 8:45 and then I started to collapse. I felt sore, nauseous and on the verge of hyperventilation. I slowed and slowed and slowed and I didn't feel any better. Mile 3 was well below marathon pace and I continued to decline. I rallied briefly near the finish as I passed the FCTR Booster Club. I didn't have much fight left, but I did reel in one person on the final stretch... It was my slowest 10k in any race ever (including marathons!). I had no hope of qualifying.

Smiling... actually laughing at how slow I was going!

Cat, Scott, Sarah, and Chris greeted me at the finish. Their great energy and respect kept me from falling into a funk. We returned to the course to watch Celeste grit out the end of the race. She was amazing. During the run, she destroyed the lead I had built in the swim and bike, and finished faster than me. It was amazing to see her determination and competitive spirit. What an athlete!

Post race massage... so necessary

I am disappointed in my performance in that race, but it has left me with some goals for next year. Nationals will be in Burlington again next year. I am going to make it this time. I know that I gave the race everything I had. I was exhausted at the end. Next year, I am going to have more to give it.

Summer Adventures, Part 2: Big Horn Trail Races

The view from Dry Fork

The Bighorn Mountains rise up out of the prairie in norther Wyoming. They are a narrow band stretching parallel to I-90 and crashing through the border into southern Montana. They are quiet and isolated because they sit between two of our most famous natural areas, Mount Rushmore (ok, "natural area") and Yellowstone. They also, despite encompassing one of the nation's oldest national forests, are not as famous as their sister range, the Rocky Mountains.

The course was rerouted because there was still snow up there.

Each year, in June, which is normally spring in the Bighorns, for the last 20 years, a trail run is held. The original purpose of the run was to engage people in protection of the area when plans for a dam were being developed. Apparently it worked and the races continue and clearly enjoy a huge amount of support by local folks. The first Bighorn Wild and Scenic Trail run was held in 1992. The distances, in keeping with Wyoming's laid back culture, were roughly 50 miles (actually 52), 50k (actually 32.5 miles) and 30k (actually 17.5 miles). In 2002, they introduced the 100 mile distance.

Celeste and Cat on the 18 mile "home stretch." Amazing duo!

Early in the year, before I had ever run more than 26.2 miles, buzz about this race popped up on the Fort Collins Trail Runners listserv. I had no intention of signing up, but after Red Hot, I knew I wanted to do more 50ks. One Tuesday night, Chris H. and I made a pact to sign up. Unfortunately, the race was full when I went to register. The 50 miler was still open, but that seemed like too much.

Ean leaving on the 30k... she set a PR. Go Ean!

As excitement built about the race, I decided that it would not be horrible to just go and check it out. I convinced Chris to join me, so the dogs and gear were loaded into the truck and off we went. We arrived in Sheridan, WY in the evening. It seemed like everyone in town was excited for the race.

Alex brightened up when he saw his fan club at the aid station.

We wedged Chris' truck and camper in the campsites held by the Mays, the Walters, Mary and Scott (Celeste was already on course with Cat). We arrived after the 100 mile start, but did attempt groggily to wish the 50 milers good luck as they passed the camper (I am pretty sure none of them heard, but we tried!). Later that morning, we headed to the Dry Fork aid station in time to see the 50k and 30k starts and cheer through a lot of the Fort Collins Crew. We had more than 15 runners across all races and it was a joy to see the boost they got as they dragged themselves, tired, sweaty and a little beat up, into an aid station where they were greeted by friends.

After ensuring that each runner had passed through Dry Fork (we did miss a couple of the super fast guys), we joined the rest of the Fort Collins Love Bubble at the finish line to cheer in every last one of our friends. At the awards breakfast in the morning, about 1/3 of FCTRs walked away with awards. What an amazing showing.

Brian finishes his 1st 50-miler with daughter Sandis

As we drank beer and cheered at the finish line, a plot was hatched... Celeste, Ean and I will run the 50 mile next year. Ean put it in her blog, so it is on! And I am excited. Next year it will be me running my longest race ever, through beautiful wildflowers, over amazing terrain, and being greeted at the finish line by a bunch of sweaty, tipsy people, who also happen to be some amazing friends!

FCTRLB (Fort Collins Trail Runner Love Bubble)

Summer Adventures, Part 1

In my last post, I mentioned that I was back on the training wagon... it sorta didn't last too long. Well, that is not true, I have been running, biking and swimming up a storm, but I have not been on any prescribed training program. I am okay with that, but my race results are sure to show the effects. I have spent most of June and July exploring mountains at a slower pace and really developing a love affair with Colorado. The next few posts will contain the highlights and get us caught up.



June Hiking -

Gotta learn my peaks, but I think this is Long's

Looking down at Estes Park from Estes Cone

I took a few trips with a new friend who showed me parts of Colorado he loved. We did a lot of hiking and camping. I felt like I was back to my roots. We visited Rocky Mountain National Park and hiked Lumpy Ridge and Estes Cone. We bumped around the bottom of some of the 14ers around Buena Vista and camped high above Salida on BLM land far away from everyone and everything.

Black Canyon of the Gunnison

The biggest adventure was a hike down the Tomichi Route into the Black Canyon of the Gunnison. Now it is called a route because you actually "hike" down a rock slide and there is no trail. When we stopped at the visitor center to get the required permit, the rangers all gathered around with raised eyebrows when my companion indicated that he had taken the route before. Apparently, once is enough for most folks.

Sliding down the Tomichi Route

Sunset over the Canyon

Although the hike was only 1 mile each way, the loose, talus-strewn route  with an elevation change of 1930 feet made this route pretty challenging. We had to go one at a time to avoid killing each other with rocks kicked loose. We rested at the bottom along the swollen Gunnison River, devouring several bagels each and falling asleep in the cool shade at the bottom of the canyon. We crested the rim of the canyon again 6 hours later. Yes, it took us 6 hours to "hike" 2 miles. But, the park suggests that descent along that route take 1.5 hours and ascent take 4.5 hours (which they handily point out is 3 times the descent time)... so given our extended pit stop, we made pretty good time.

Wildflowers in CB

We wrapped up the trip camping in the same spot as I had on my very first trip to Colorado 15 years ago. It was just outside Crested Butte, so before heading back to reality, we tempted ourselves with a quick peek at the trails leading out of CB... a future trip will be needed!

Next up... Big Horn Trail Races