Elk!

Along with cooler temperatures and yellow aspen leaves, fall brings to Evergreen bull elk and their harems.  Here's a collection of pics of a few of the herds I've spotted around town the last couple of weeks.

And, there's something primal and, at the same time, soothing about hearing the bugling call of bull elk during the rut.  That sound seems to echo through the hills up here.

Next door to the Evergreen Library 

At the entrance to my neighborhood.

At the Hiwan Homestead Museum

Same guy at the Hiwan Homestead Museum

Mt. Rosalie and the Weekend

With the great weather, and summer clinging on by its fingertips, I managed to get out for some fun in the local hills, including a nice tempo effort (and some bushwhacking/exploring) on North Table Mountain and a early morning jaunt up Mt. Rosalie (13,575) early Sunday morning.


First up was a loop around North Table Mountain. JeffCo Open Space all summer has been building new trails in this open space gem. The trails are all well-graded and solidly constructed, which lends them to speedy runs.

I opted to run from the west trailhead, up the steep access road. After a quarter mile up or so, I peeled off onto a well-trodden social trail I'd been eyeing for some time. The trail contours on a bench around the west and south sides of the mountain before ascending up through a break in the rocks that line the south side.

Up top, I continued east and descended down through a climbing area to the Access Fund's lot at the bottom near Highway 58. I was hoping for a decent social trail to take me over to a new section of the North Table Mountain loop. Alas, there was no trail, so I bushwhacked over.

From there, it was a speedy run on the North Table Mountain Loop Trail, up Cottonwood Canyon to the Mesa Top Trail, then back down to the North Table Mountain Loop Trail and back to the car.

8.6 miles.

Looking southwest from social trail on west side of North Table Mountain

Next up was an early Sunday morning hike/run up and down Mt. Rosalie, one of the 13'ers alongside Mt. Evans in the heart of the Mt. Evans Wilderness.

I started my day in the near dark at the Deer Creek Trailhead, heading up the Tanglewood Trail, which ascends four miles or so to a beautiful, grassy saddle that is the Park/Clear Creek County line.

The saddle on the Tanglewood Trail in the Mt. Evans Wilderness.

A lone post marks the pass, and serves as a handy marker for a place to hang a left for the cross-country, 1,600-foot climb to the rounded hump that is Rosalie's summit.

Mt. Rosalie summit marker.

The ascent is a straightforward grind up through open tundra, with a few rocky spots here and there. After one false summit, the climb eases and the summit quickly appears. While the views are great, and the terrain inspiring, Rosalie itself is not an impressive peak. Just a big globe-like hump. Mt. Epaulet, next door, is a much more impressive-looking mountain.

Looking west from the summit of Mt. Rosalie

Looking down the east flank of Mt. Rosalie toward saddle. 

Descending back down the Tanglewood Trail on newly constructed singletrack.

Bristlecone pine snag and younger tree.

Still some color left down low, near the trailhead.

 Setting aside my 'dissing of Rosalie, it really is a great hike/run, especially the section of the Tanglewood Trail through the bristlecone pine stand and the parts above treeline. Simply gorgeous.

10.7 (or so) miles.  (I neglected to turn off my watch during most of the drive home.)

Interesting Leadville 100 Data

Andy over here at Pb Runner crunched some Leadville 100 data and provide me with my place numbers at each aid station. There's no hiding my meltdown from Twin Lakes to Winfield. 

MQ: 136th
Fish: 100th
Half Pipe: 88th
Twin: 90th
Hope: 148th
Winfield: 150th
Hope: 179th
Twin: 149th
Half Pipe: 144th
Fish: 140th
MQ: 119th
Finish: 102nd

As Andy noted when he posted this info, there's some minor discrepancies in the data (I actually finished in 104th place).

Using just this data, it appears I was holding my own up to Twin Lakes, getting there in 90th place. Then the super bonk happened on the climb up to Hopeless (I then laid down in the soft grass at Hopeless for a good bit). I lost a whopping 58 places, then two more on the descent down to Winfield. I then proceeded to sit in a chair (whining) for 45 minutes, losing another 25+ places.

I picked up a bunch of places on the jog back to Twin Lakes from Hopeless, but it was between Fish Hatchery and the finish where I started to claw back some places...from 140th to 102nd.

Thanks, Andy!

A Few More (inevitable) Leadville Thoughts

I've been noodling a bit on the whole Leadville 100 experience (probably a rookie thing). A few additional thoughts have been popping up now and then, so I thought I'd document 'em here.

1. Over the 100+ miles of the course and 26+ hours, I never fell down. I saw a bunch of guys and gals with bloody legs. I guess that's a benefit of moving relatively slowly.

2. I ran the whole race wearing the same pair of Hoka Stinson Evos. I stayed far away from these shoes for months and months, but finally decided to give them a try when I found a great deal. The shoes aren't perfect for me. They are a bit wide, but their plush ride was what sold me.

For a couple years, I've dealt with chronic plantar pain in my right heel. After that long run at Leadville, I had no pain. None. That's amazing given my past experience. My heel typically hurts after an easy six-mile run in my usual shoes (whatever pair they are).

During the race, the shoes felt fine. Never felt like I wished I had something else on.

That said, I had two problems.  First, I did get four blisters, three on different toes and one on my right forefoot. I distinctly remember feeling a couple of them pop during the race. Second, I still think they are incredibly dorky looking, especially on those of us blessed with skinny-ass legs.

Post-race, I'm back running in a pair of Saucony Peregrines. Haven't put the Hokas back on, but I will at some point soon.

3. Next time I run this race, I think I'll change socks after the water crossing just beyond Twin Lakes outbound and definitely change shoes after Twin Lakes in bound. I didn't make any shoe or sock changes this year. My feet suffered for it, at least I think that was the problem. No doubt the Hokas caused some issues, but the bottoms of my feet were pretty wrinkled and tender. Pretty sure that's due to running with wet feet.

4. Pacers are valuable. Leadville was my first experience using a pacer. I said a bunch in the race report about how important my two pacers were to me during the race. One thing I didn't mention is how valuable I think pacers are for safety reasons. I was thinking about that when Dave and I were ascending Powerline in the late night darkness.

Not too far from the top, we came across a woman without a pacer. She was struggling...moving slow and not looking too well. We walked with her for a bit, asked after her and encouraged her to move with us. She waved us on, but I was anxious for her. There wasn't much we could do for her at the time. She was plodding forward and probably doing just fine, but it was a reminder of how important a pacer can be to us novices (or anyone, really) should one get into trouble, especially in the wee hours of the night out there in the middle of nowhere.

4. Other runners can be annoying...way annoying. An hour or so after Steve and I broke out headlamps, somewhere on the Colorado Trail between the Mt. Elbert water stop and Treeline, we came across a woman pacing a male runner. The woman was counting out at the top of her lungs 20 running steps, then 15 walking steps for the guy...over and over. I was in powerhike mode, so they would move on ahead on the 20 running steps, but come back to us on the 15 walking steps.

So, there we were on a beautiful night, on a great trail moving from glow stick to glow stick, catching occasional glimpses of an amazing star-filled night sky, all to the soundtrack of this woman yelling out the numbers 1-20, then 1-15. It drove me crazy.

The good thing, though, is that it finally got bad enough that it got me running. I had to get away from that cacophony and back to some nighttime peace and quiet.

Sometimes its better to suffer in silence.

Pins & Needles

Update:  The project has ended earlier than expected.  See Bill Wright's post about halfway down this page on 14ers.com.

I was at dinner last night with a group of friends who were full of questions about my 26-hour jog/hike at the Leadville 100 a couple weeks back. They were genuinely impressed with the fact that I moved myself that far over that terrain. They asked why I didn't talk more about it...what I didn't tell many folks I was running the race. They said I was humble.

While I am definitely proud of the fact I completed a 100-mile race, it pales in difficulty and required endurance to the project Homie is now in the throes of.  

How can one not be humble about a single 100-mile race finish when one knows what Homie is trying to do out there?

Read Bill Wright's hair-raising and anxiety-producing updates here.

Go, Homie, go!  We're all pulling for you and the whole support team!

2012 Leadville 100 Race Report

"100s are teachers," said a text last week from endurance runner extraordinaire Scott Jurek. After my first go at that distance, I can attest that 100s are, indeed, teachers.  But, am I an apt pupil?


So, what does it take to finish a 100-mile race? Prior to last weekend, I really didn't know. After experiencing the 2012 Leadville 100, I think I figured it out.  It takes:

• Some well-timed and poignant words from one's wife.
• Just the right amount of encouragement and prodding from one's pacers and crew.
• Noodles.

The race for me began with a bit of a panic. As the national anthem was playing and 800 or so runners were lined up on 6th Avenue in Leadville, I was among a small group of runners frantically trying to figure out how to get into the start corral. 

About the time we got to the part where "...the flag was still there," I was finally there in the crowd waiting for the 4 a.m. shotgun blast to set us off.

And so it began...

I had a very detailed race plan, which pretty much entailed running easy and eating a lot. I'm sure there could be more to a race plan, but that's all I could come up with.  I had given my crew splits for a 24:30 finish, just to give them something to plan with, but I really had no idea what to expect.

I came into the race feeling under-prepared. Work and work travel, family obligations and an uninspired training regime all contributed to that feeling.  In the six months leading up to the race, I had two runs longer than 25 miles, including the June 30 Safaricom Marathon in Kenya and an eight-hour slog in May climbing over downed trees in the Mt. Evans Wilderness. Since the race took place at an elevation that averaged more than 10,000 feet, I prepared for that by running above 10,000 feet exactly twice, including that May run in the Mt. Evans Wilderness and an early August run with Todd G. off Kenosha Pass. 

So, with those complex race plans in my head and focused training in my legs, we were off.

The Scintillating Meat of the Race Report

The run to the Mayqueen aid station at mile 13.5 was easy and uneventful. Just an easy jog in a conga line around Turquoise Lake. Steve Y., who had agreed to serve as pacer and early-morning crew hoss, called me out of the crowd and took my headlamp and extra shirt and off I went without stopping. The Colorado Trail stretch up to Hagerman Pass Road went by quickly and uneventfully.

The pace continued to be easy, but steady as I ran up Sugarloaf to the top of the Powerline descent. I jogged down Powerline into Fish Hatchery and was met by Steve and David W., who would handle crew hoss duties into the night. I swapped hydration packs, dropped a layer and headed out onto the pavement.

By the time I got to Treeline, I was cursing the course. It's too damn runnable. My legs were feeling a bit tired. I was ready for a change of pace and some hiking, but the grades just didn't require it, and I wasn't smart enough to walk anyway. So, I kept running, er, jogging.

By the time I rolled through the Colorado Trail section and down into Twin Lakes, I was really starting to feel it. I began to think I might be in trouble. This 100-mile thing is hard!  It ain't a 50-mile run where you can beat the crap out of yourself the last 10 miles and survive. I was feeling like crap and still had 60 miles to go.

The maltodextrin/water mix in my hydration pack was not sitting well, nor was the watermelon I crammed into my mouth at the aid station. My stomach was in near-revolt.

Steve Y. and Nick P., who was there supporting Brandon F., advised me to eat, eat and eat. After a few minutes sitting and eating and drinking, I left Twin Lakes with a sandwich bag of chews, Fig Newtons and M&Ms, headed out through the meadow, crossed the river and made my way over to the start of the climb up Hope Pass. I had jettisoned my hydration pack in exchange for two handhelds of just water. I couldn't stomach any more maltodextrin.

Houston, We Have a Problem

The climb up Hope was my un-doing. About half-way up, the wheels really came off. I bonked, and bonked hard...harder than I ever have before. Ever. The higher I went, the less steady I became. The pace slowed. I started to feel light-headed and out-of-it. I was on the razor edge of puking...and often wanted to upchuck just in hopes of feeling better. I had to sit down 3-5 times to get my wits about me. A steady stream of runners passed me, nearly all asking if I was OK.  "Yep. OK. Just tired," I would reply.

Each time, I finally got up and moved a bit further up the trail. At the Hopeless Aid station, I refilled my handhelds, grabbed a cup of Coke and lay down in the grass. I must have lain there for 15 minutes. I watched Tony K. and his pacer Dakota Jones come down from the pass and through the aid station.

I made my way up the pass just as the other lead runners were coming over. I staggered down the backside of Hope. On the hike/jog down, I started thinking about ending my misery. Soon, I had a good set of excuses why I would quit at Winfield. 

By the time I got to Winfield, my excuses had solidified into really awesome reasons why quitting was the right thing to do.

1. The reoccurring problem with my right IT band was back and hurting. 
2. My stomach was in knots.
3. I can't haul myself back over Hope Pass. I just don't have it in me.
4. I didn't train for 100 miles.
5. I didn't want it enough.

I walked through the check in area and made my way to my crew.  My wife, Jeanine, and son, Jack, and friends Trevor and Nicky had joined Steve and David. I plopped down in the way-comfy camp chair they had set up and proclaimed myself finished. Time to cut the wristband.

I'm so happy.

I laid out my excuses. Everyone offered gentle urgings to not be rash, not give up. I told them I had thought about it a lot. I sat there. It was hot. It felt good to be done. I didn't care.

Steve brought me some noodles and potato soup, and fed me a bottle of Ensure. David opened a Coke for me. Jeanine looked me in the eyes and said, "I know you have the mental strength to get this done."

Jack asked me if I wanted to play Frisbee.

Steve, dressed in running gear and set to start his pacing duties, told me he could get me to the finish.  He then looked at his watch and said, "You know, you can walk this thing and still finish by the cut-off." 

Jeanine then threw out the Big One. "Think about Caroline." She was referring to our 11-year-old daughter who eight days prior had crashed on her mountain bike riding down a steep Forest Service road and suffered a compound fracture of the two bones in her right forearm. For those who skipped first aid class, a compound fracture means a broken bone is poking through the skin.

Ouch

When the accident happened, we were six rough miles from pavement and over 25 miles from Lake City. Needless to say, it was a scary accident. Fortunately, 911 was able to get a doc over to the closed Lake City clinic. He cleaned things up, put on a splint, surrounded the break with ice and loaded her into an ambulance for the 55-mile drive to Gunnison. Fast forward a couple hours and she's in surgery getting her bones re-set, three pins inserted and a cast up to her bicep put in place. (Big shout out to Dr. Rhett Griggs of Alpine Orthopedics in Gunnison.)

Caroline, who was incredibly brave, endured everything up to the surgery without any pain killers, and a very calm attitude.  (Update: she's doing great now. Everything is healing up fine.)

After calling a "unnecessary roughness" penalty on Jeanine for tossing out the "think about Caroline" line, I got up and walked around a bit. I realized my legs were feeling better. Moving felt OK.

Jim:  "Mmmmm, soup."  Steve: "I wonder if there's anyone else that needs a pacer."

So, I walked back over to Steve and said, "Alright Steve, let's go for a walk." Before I could change my mind, I picked up my bottles and started walking and told Steve to catch up to me.

Redemption

By the time we got onto the new trail section above Winfield, I was feeling much better. Steve took my bottles and we started running. We soon had worked out a system. I moved. Steve offered encouragement and regular reminders to eat and drink. 

The hike up Hope Pass was hard (man, there are some steep sections on that ascent!), but we marched up it without stopping. We had a nice long pause for oranges, noodle soup and Coke at Hopeless aid station, just over the top of the pass.

The descent, while far from speedy, went quickly. Before I knew it, we were in the flats headed to the river crossing outside Twin Lakes.

Much to Jeanine and David's surprise, I came into the Twin Lakes aid station with a big smile on my face. I was back from the dead. Feeling good, or at least as good as I could expect to feel with 60 or so miles in my legs.

After a quick re-fueling in the increasingly awesome camp chair, Steve and I headed out, power-hiking up the climb to the Colorado Trail. I felt really good on this climb and set a strong hiking pace. Once on the Colorado Trail, we alternated with some jogging and a lot of power-hiking. Just past the Mt. Elbert water stop, the headlights came out and the march through the night was officially on.

Thanks to Steve's incredible (truly) support and encouragement on the trail, I had long banished thoughts of quitting or not finishing. Completing the 100-mile run was now a certainty. The question was how long would it take, and how much would it hurt.

Through the night, we motored on, jogging what I could, power-hiking everything else.

We cruised (high-school-slowly-through-a-parking-lot-type cruising) through Treeline, ran the double-track down to the pavement and played the "run-to-the-next-light," "run-three, no-five, no-seven- telephone-poles" game all the way into Fish Hatchery.

Headed for the Finish Line

Dave and Jeanine were again there at Fish waiting for us. They were joined by some friends -- Brooks, Eddy and Thad -- from Denver that had come out to experience the carnage and spectacle that is an ultrarunning trail race. I got a real boost from seeing these guys. We were laughing and carrying on as I refueled and prepared to head out.

I bid adieu to wonder-pacer Steve as David took over pacing duties and we set off for the climb up Powerline that I knew awaiting. David picked up the pacing routine right were Steve left off. "Drink, Jim. "Eat, Jim."

We marched steadily up Powerline, passing a bunch of people along the way. We continued passing folks on the gentle descent down Sugarloaf, jogging what I could and power-hiking the rest (a now-familiar theme). We ran pretty much all of Hagerman Pass road, marveling at the falling stars and the quiet beauty of the night in the mountains.

Back on the Colorado Trail headed into Mayqueen, we came across Brandon F. and pacer JT. We exchanged greetings and kept pressing on.

After checking in at Mayqueen, gulping down more noodle and potato soup and finding Jeanine and the comfy camp chair, I quickly got moving again telling David to catch up to me (not a demanding feat given my early morning pedestrian pace).

Next up was the endless lake-side trail around Turquoise Lake, which easily is my least favorite part of the course. (I'll have to check it out in the daytime some day.) It was in here that we finally were passed by a runner and his pacer, the first time we'd been passed since Fish Hatchery.

From there, we just kept moving, and moving, and moving. Endless.

Finally, we emerged from the trail, stumbled down the mini-powerline section (oh, my poor quads) and onto the dirt road (ran it), the paved road, then the railroad section (ran most of that) and, finally, the Boulevard (steady march).

At long last, we passed the big school, took a left onto a paved road, then a right onto 6th Avenue. A woman there told us, "You're there. This is the last turn in the race."

After a short final climb, and a half-jog past some houses, David called ahead to let Jeanine know we were close. Damn close.

From the top of the 6th Avenue hill, we could see right down to town. The finish line. I was flooded with emotion. Over a day of constant motion. Back from the dead. Surrounded by friends. Whooped.

We soon were a block from the finish. Jack jumped off the sidewalk and joined David and I as we approached the red carpet. What a great feeling. Gratifying. Satisfying. Sublime.

Thanks goodness for rapid shutter speeds. The big sprint finish!

Done. With Jack and David.

That's what it's all about. Jack and Jeanine. Awesome!

26:33; 104th overall.

I missed my time goal by 1:34, but I didn't really care. I was thrilled to have completed the race. I ran 100 miles. That felt good, all by itself. So did being surrounded by good friends and family, especially with emotions so raw and body so knackered.

After a quick weigh-in (162 pounds, just a hair over what I started with), I headed over to a the medical tent for the grand unveiling of what I expected to be shredded feet. I knew I had some blisters and the bottom of my feet felt like hamburger (no shoe or sock changes during the race). The medical guy did a quick examination, pointed out a few blisters, said something about "trench foot" and sent me on my way with instructions to clean up, dry off and elevate.  (Turns out that other than a few blisters on the end of a couple toes and in the middle of my right forefoot, all was well.)

Trying to stay warm post-run on Leadville's main street

After a final series of smiles and hugs, we all went our separate ways. Jeanine, Jack and I went over to a friend's place just of Harrison Street for some well-earned sitting and rest. Steve, Tiffany, David and our Denver friends all headed off back to the Front Range and bed. Sorta anti-climatic, but appropriate given everyone's lack of sleep.

The Big Wrap-Up

Without question, the 2012 Leadville 100-Mile Trail Race was an incredible experience. This 100 was, indeed, a teacher. The most enduring lesson, for me, was one of selflessness.  I didn't run Leadville alone, ever.

I never would have gotten there without Jeanine and her encouragement, patience and understanding.

I wouldn't have gotten out of that chair at Winfield and rallied so well without the experienced, watchful and masterful help of Steve Young. Since I've never run a 100-mile race before, I never had cause for a pacer or a crew. With that caveat, let me say that I can't imagine a better guy to have at your side than SY. He's experienced, smart, good-humored, patient and has pacing and crewing down to art forms. I learned a ton from this guy. Thank you, Steve. I owe you...big time.

I was reluctant to ask anyone to provide crew support. It's such a big ask. Battle crowded, dusty roads. Sit around for hours. Worry about where I am, and whether you're in the right place. Stay up all night. Deal with the emotional ups and downs of a runner pushing well into new endurance territory. Still, when it came down to the ask, one guy came to mind. David W. David is organized, patient and always up for new experiences. He signed up without missing a beat. And, as it turns out, he too is a pacer-extraordinaire. I couldn't have asked for a better partner in this thing. Thank you, Dave!

Finally, a big shout-out to Brandon F. for the pre-race lodging, encouragement and willingness to share his knowledge of the race. And, a special thanks to Steve and Kathi G. for opening up their Leadville home for a pre-race dinner and post-race napping and recuperation.

So, the next question always seems to be:  "Will you do it again?" I have to say that, yes, I think I will. I learned so much, it would be a shame not to put that knowledge to use...wouldn't it?  Plus, there's that thing about finishing in under 25-hours.

Sub-30-hour finishers' belt buckle.

The Fortnight That Was - 5/13 - 5/26/2012 and the Hardest Run Ever

(Started this post days ago...finally getting around to posting it.) Two weeks of running, both literally and figuratively...some mountains, some beaches and some not at all.


All-in-all, it's been a good couple of weeks. I missed a few days here and there, but have managed to get in some good runs between the chaos that is our lives.

Week 5/13-5/19 - the highlights:

Sunday - Bergen Peak - 15 miles; 2:45; 2,783 feet o' elevation gain: Ran from home to the summit of Bergen Peak, then dropped off the backside into the Bergen Peak State Wildlife Management Area tract and found a great trail that descends down into the Echo Hills subdivision. Did some exploring trying to find a new way into the adjacent Denver Mountain Park tracts that lay between the subdivision and Squaw Pass Road. Ended up traipsing through some private property and then bushwhacking down a ridiculously steep and thickly-wooded hillside before finding a fire road on a DMP tract. Added some miles via the roads in Soda Creek.

Tuesday - Marshall Mesa - 16 miles; 2:15; 969 feet o' elevation gain:  Early morning spin around the    Dirty Bismark loop. Beautiful morning on these wide-open trails. Saw and heard WAY more meadowlarks than I saw people.

Thursday - Colorado Trail - 8 miles; 1:25; 1,271 feet o' elevation gain:  CP was doing a class camping trip on some private land just below Kenosha Pass. We were jumping on a red-eye later this evening bound for Florida, so I headed over in the early evening to the campsite to pick her up.  Along the way, I stopped at the parking area on the south side of Kenosha Pass for a quick out-and-back on the Colorado Trail. Legs were flat and not happy with the run, but the scenery more than made up for it. Turns out, the property where the kids were camping was about half a mile below the spot where this picture was taken. You had to cross the CO Trail on a two-track to get to the spot. Such a cool location!

The Colorado Trail below Kenosha Pass.

Week 5/20-5/16 - the highlights:

Sunday:  Palm Beach - 16.68 miles; 2:23 - We flew all morning on Friday (1 a.m. - 6:30 a.m.) to Ft. Lauderdale on Spirit Airlines so we could join family in marking JP's grandmother's 95th birthday party. Spirit Airlines managed to lose my luggage, which didn't arrive in Florida until Saturday at 3 p.m.  So, Friday and Saturday were forced days off.  With running gear now in hand, I got up early Sunday for a jaunt around the tony enclave of Palm Beach. I started at our Fairfield Inn hotel located on Palm Beach just over the Intercoastal Waterway from Lake Worth and headed north. Most of the main road along the beach from our hotel to the Breakers Hotel was closed due to sewer replacement, which meant I had long stretches of beach-side pavement all to myself...well, just me and several hundred very, very expensive houses. Ran to downtown Palm Beach, over the Intercoastal to West Palm Beach, turned around and ran back. Got pretty darn hot and humid over the last 4-5 miles.

Palm Beach sunrise.

An aptly named road in West Palm Beach

Thursday:  Mt. Falcon Open Space - 13 miles; 2:06; 2,656 feet o' elevation gain:  Way early morning run with Joe Z. and Woody A. around this open space park in Morrison. Solid effort throughout the run, including 3+ miles of quality downhill to finish things off. We were done by 7:15 a.m. By 3 p.m., I was ready for a nap. That 4:15 a.m. wake-up hurt.

Saturday: Mt. Evans Wilderness Area - 28 (ish) miles; 9:15; 7K(ish) feet o' elevation gain:  This was a brutal run, done with Joe Z., Todd G. and Troy H. The first 14 miles from Echo Lake on the Captain Mountain Trail and the Lost Creek Trail were great. However, once we got onto the Cub Creek Trail, things turned ugly fast.

Joe Z. cruising down the Captain Mountain Trail in the early morning light.

Just a little ways up the Cub Creek Trail we hit a bunch of downed trees. No problem. Downed trees in the spring are part of trail running.  The winter always brings down a few big ones.

Just a few trees on the climb up the Cub Creek Trail...no problem.

The day's plan, for me, was to be out for 4-5 hours.  We ended up being out for 9:15. We spent a good four hours climbing over, under and through a massive evergreen blowdown. Turns out there must have been one hell of a windstorm/microburst on the east side of Mt. Evans this winter. The scale of the destruction was pretty incredible. And, the result is virtually impenetrable. Down trees were 4-10 feet high, covering the trail and making movement painfully slow. The only time we got 4-5 consistent steps was when we were walking on a down tree trunk five feet from the ground. It's amazing we got out of that mess without any injuries worse than our shredded legs.

Todd G. surveying the damage.  

The power of the wind had to have been tremendous.

Note:  Despite using terms like "massive" and "scale of destruction," let me be more direct. Do NOT venture into the Cub Creek Trail area.  It's simply not worth it.  This is not a log-hopping problem. This is crawling and climbing through branches, over big, full, downed trees and dealing with extreme route-finding. You can't follow the trails. We ended up just bushwhacking from one drainage to another trying to make our way over to an old burned area to the north, which we knew was where the trail back to Echo Lake ran. This was a TOUGH day.

After bushwhacking and emerging into a nice, trail-less meadow, Todd, Troy and Joe try and figure out where we are.

"I think we're in this drainage. Now, if we just climb over this ridge..."

Of course we eventually made our way out of the blowdown and back to the cars. Everyone was quick to check in with families to let them know we were safe.

Post-run. Ouch. Let the healing begin.

Toward the end of the "run," I definitely was having those "why the hell am I doing this?" thoughts.  When I got home, I told JP I needed to give some serious thought to whether the time/training was worth it.  A day later, of course, those thoughts are long gone and the desire to run is right back where it should be, for now.

The banishment of the negative thoughts was hastened by a really fun five-mile hike the next day up Chief Mountain with CP and our two dogs, Cisco and Maya.

CP on the summit of Chief Mountain. 

Bristlecone snag on  Chief Mountain.

Nothing like sharing the trails with an 11-year-old to bring some perspective.  Onwards!!

The Week That Was - May 6-12, 2012

Decent week of running, although the mileage isn't where I'd like it to be. Starting to feel like my fitness is returning after having to shut things down for February and March due to ITBS.


The stats:

57.86 miles
10,811 feet o' elevation gain
9 hours, 27 minutes

Sunday: Beaver Brook Trail Traverse - (17 miles; 4,489 feet o' elevation gain; 3:29). Did an out-and-back run the length of the Beaver Brook Trail, starting at the Chief Hosa trailhead and running to Windy Saddle on Lookout Mountain Road. This trail has it all...tough, rugged climbs, gentle rollers and a wee bit of flat, steady running. Was pretty hammered by the time it was all said and done. Came across Troy H. twice. He was out doing the same run, only more and starting from the Chimney Gulch Trailhead. Big day for him!

Views down into Clear Creek Canyon from Beaver Brook Trail

Beaver Brook Trail blaze

Monday: Home - Firestone via Elk Meadow - (3.88 miles; 466 feet o' elevation gain; :38).  Legs were heavy from the previous day's run. Decided to keep it waaaaay easy. Just ran from home to car repair shop to pick up the car.

Tuesday: North Table Mountain - (10.02 miles; 1,190 feet o' elevation gain; 1:20). Tempo pace/effort run. Ran a bunch of stuff to pretty much circumnavigate the mountain, with a bit of climbing thrown in via the Mesa Top Trail.  The North Table Mountain Trail is a great and relatively new trail and is flat enough to get some solid and challenging turn-over going. Felt good to push the pace a bit, which I haven't been doing much of since January when the ITBS flared up.

Wednesday: Green Mountain - Lakewood - (10.07 miles; 1,151 feet o' elevation gain; 1:21). Ran from Rooney Road lot around the south side of the mountain, climbed up to the towers, over to the high point and back down via the Box o' Rocks Trail.

Thursday: Bergen Peak Upper Loop - (8 miles; 1,758; 1:14). Ran a slightly abbreviated version of the upper loop from the lower lot at Elk Meadow Open Space.

Friday: Off - Crazy day between work and family obligations.

Saturday: Bergen Peak Upper Loop - (8.89 miles; 1,758 feet o' elevation gain; 1:23). This was one of those runs that restores one's excitement about running/training. Felt like I was flying up Elk Meadow's Too Long Trail. I recall wishing I had run my time trial route this day. I'm sure I could have set a PR. Ran hard down the Bergen Peak Trail feeling great. IT barked a wee bit when as I was finishing up on the Meadow View Trail. Slowed down and jogged it in. No further problems. Played it safe as soon as I got a few minor twinges.

Thoughts:  As noted above, I'm starting to feel like some of the fitness I had in late winter is beginning to return. Tuesday was my first tempo pace/effort hard run in several months. Felt so good cruising along the North Table Mountain Trail on a beautiful day. Looking forward to more of those.  No yoga this week, but got in a solid session this past Sunday morning.  Foam rolling and hip mobility/strengthening exercises continue.

Random Goodness

Does a later-in-life start to serious running allow one to perform better as one ages?  Maybe.

Want to finish Leadville (or any other 100-miler) more than 30 minutes sooner without running any harder or faster?  Learn to pee while running.

Got a favorite "green" restaurant in Boulder or Denver?  The Nature Conservancy has a contest going. Vote here.  My fave in Denver:  Watercourse.

Word Art

I like the way this came out.  Hat tip to GZ for pointing to Wordle. New to me. At the Wordle site, you type in a URL and Wordle scans the site and creates a word cloud. You can play with the layout, colors and fonts. 

Here's what all those posts add up to:

Pointless...but neato.

Here and There

Colorado weather. Never dull. Saturday in Denver...90 degrees. Today in Evergreen:

Elk Meadow Open Space. Bergen Peak completely obscured by clouds

Crappy.

The last two weeks o' running have been modest in mileage (both around 50 miles), but have included some solid runs.

The highlights:

Greenland Open Space - (14 miles; 1:56) last Sunday, after dropping off my visiting nephew at Colorado College in the Springs, I stopped off at Greenland and ran the park's trails, plus several miles on the New Santa Fe Regional Trail, a 16-mile Rails-to-Trails crushed gravel path that connects Palmer Lake to the Springs. I enjoyed the run in the fading daylight, but found the course of the Greenland 50K to be rather dull.

The Greenland Trail heading out from the parking area.

Arlington, VA loop - (10.2 miles; 1:20). Spent this past week in Arlington, VA on a biz trip. Got out for a couple of 10-mile runs, plus a pair of six mile jogs (both done in the dark...one around 10:30 p.m. after landing in D.C.). On Wednesday, I got out with a friend from work for a nice loop that included a bit of everything...technical trail, smooth trail, bike paths and roads. Worked in a good bit of tempo. A nice change from the base-building pace stuff I've been doing lately.

Nothing says "Welcome" more than a defaced road sign.

The start of the Potomac Heritage Trail by Roosevelt Island 

Key Bridge, connecting Virginia with Georgetown in D.C., from the PHT.

 Other than those highlights, it's been the usual mix of Boulder peaks and Bergen Peak in Evergreen. With the biz travel, managed just two yoga classes over the last two weeks. Hoping to get in a few more this week.

Solid 17-mile run with 4,500 feet o' elevation gain yesterday on the Beaver Brook Trail, running from the Chief Hosa trailhead to Windy Saddle and back. Felt pretty wasted, though, after the run. Definitely need to ramp up the long runs this week, and work in another tempo effort.

Fortunately, the IT injury seems to have healed. Still playing it smart, but beginning to feel  comfortable adding in more intensity and mileage. The trick is to do both gradually, and listen to the body.  Yeah, I'm talking to myself.