Thru Endurance We Conquer!

Here we go again - after getting my hamstring healed up during our Utah trip and after, I though I was in the clear to resume intensity and building out my long runs. I got back on the track and started doing some of my speed workouts on the flat trails of Monument Valley park. I was missing the forest for the trees though - with all the little races packed in January and February, I was working too hard to try to reclaim by speed. I should know by know that the runner I was in 2005 no longer exists and trying to find her again is near futile. But I still think I should be able to run as far as fast as I used to too. Everything was going well and I was turning in some good workouts over the past month. I was starting to feel more like the runner I used to be instead of the jogging cyclists I am now. And then Monday, five minutes into my last interval, the hamstring twinged. Nothing major - but noticeable. I attributed to the cold. It was a little nippy and I'd opted to wear shorts.

Winter time seems like all fun and games sometimes - playing in the snow on the fat bikes or skis. But its also when registration season for the next season begins and when the commitment to the dreams become finalized. I've talked about the Sheep Mountain 50 Mile race since July. Well, registration is open and that means one thing - time to commit. Nothing says "I'm doing this race" more then the registration confirmation email. So on the day registration opened, I signed up - diving in head first. Sure, I could have waited. It's not like the race will fill quickly. But it's a personal thing - with that registration confirmation sitting in my inbox, it's a constant reminder of what I am working towards with all the pre-dawn, sub freezing runs. Seven months might seem like such a long time from now, but it will go so quickly. My history is in distance running - marathons and such. Having finished the 50 states back in 2010, complete with some of the trad

Unlike Nick, I have never struggled with cold hands. I'm usually happy with three layers less of glove then what he's using, or my heavy gloves if he's got his bar mitts on. In the spring and fall, that's fine. I can wear my thin wool liner under a heavy pair of gloves and be happy - despite the lack of dexterity and other issues. Even at the Leadville Winter Bike Series last year, I tried to avoid wearing my really heavy gloves. Had slightly cold hands a few times, but didn't think much of it. But for whatever reason, when Nick and I went out on the fatbikes on Sunday, I wasn't happy with the glove situation. It seemed like no matter how I tucked in cuffs or layered gloves, I just wasn't comfortable. My hands were warm for sure, but I couldn't manipulate the shifters or brakes like I wanted. And I made my discomfort evident to Nick, even mentioning that maybe I should try the bar mitts we had at home. What could it hurt? When I got home from work Mond

Last year when we hit Moab after the trip, we got in some of the classics like Porcupine Rim. Unfortunately, our last ride there was tainted by my issues with the exposures and a mini melt down on Captain Ahab. After that, I wanted to go back - test myself with the exposure and the technical riding of Ahab. We drove from St George straight to Moab, hoping to beat the forecasted storm moving in. As anticipate, the weather on Monday wasn't idea - raining most of the morning in the city and generally cold and cloudy. Perfect day for chores and laundry! After a week of riding in St George and Hurricane, we had a bunch of laundry.... View from Pothole Arch - LaSals covered in snow from the storm the previous day Tuesday was Ahab. Since it was our second trip to that trail system, we knew a little more then last year - and had a better map. We took Hymasa all the way up, riding easy and steady. Much more fun then fussing with the huge steps on Amasa Back. Hymasa really was put toge

Just on the other side of the highway from Gooseberry, but a whole different mesa of trails. After vacating our campsite on Gooseberry, we relocated to Little Creek for some brand new trails and exploring. Found one of the best spots to camp, complete with a fire ring and plenty of room. With the temperatures a little warmer every day, we didn't bother with the hunting tent this time. Instead we had a fire every night and stayed up late (8:00!!) to watch the sunset, moonset and the stars. So many stars without any light pollution around us. And so quiet. We spent two nights up there, just enjoying the quiet and the solitude. My breakfast fire - I was quite proud of that little fire since I'm not usually the one in charge of fire. We'd found some good trail info online and stuck to the recommended route for the ride. A good mix of fun, tight single track through trees, then popping out into a field of slick rock. Some tech moves up and over rocks and lots of searching f

At what point do you cast aside the weight of society and step into the unknown? It's a gamble - like creeping up to the edge of an abyss and peering over. Can it be crossed? And at what cost - or reward? It's so easy to take that look down into the depths and just back away. That is the safe route - staying with the known, no matter what the circumstances. Most people wouldn't even approach the edge, preferring to remain far away from any chance of danger. But what if the danger really lies in doing nothing? In staying "content" with the status quo no matter how much it chafes? Then what are the risks? Climbing to the edge of that abyss and looking over might be rewarded with a way to cross and a different life on the other side. It might not be any better , but it would be different. A chance to do something new. The opportunity to find a new sense of self and see the world from a different perspective.  Which is vision is reality? It is that crossro

In past years, we always tried to get up to Goosberry early in the morning so we could set up camp and ride all in the same day. That works great on the weekends when the mesa is crowded and there's lots of people camping and riding. But in the middle of the week? Not as big an issue. So we took our time, riding in St George first - on Barrel Ride and Zen - and then making the trek up. We had plenty of light left to set up the tent and get camp organized before the sun dipped down and temperatures started dropping. It was a good thing we did opt for the tent this year - once the sun set it got cold fast. Morning lows were in the mid 20s when I got up both days. I was able to crank up our Mr Buddy heater, get warm after a chilly night and then enjoy the sunrise with my coffee. The perfect start to every morning.  Sunset on the first night atop Gooseberry Mesa Reflections at camp Even though I knew Gooseberry is either easy pedaling or big power moves, the kind my ha

Sunrise. One of the only times I've been in the middle of a lap at a 24 hour race and wishing for my camera. It was surreal - the thin silver crescent of the moon hung low on the eastern horizon like a bowl with Venus, Mars and Jupiter dripping from the sky into the moon. Scattered clouds captured the light of the sunrise as the celestial quartet faded slowly into the magenta, fuchsia and oranges. Every turn on the road climb revealed an new phase of the sunrise, the colors ever changing. It was our 20th lap of the 25 Hours of Frog Hollow and one of the few moments where I was completely distracted from the bone chilling cold and ever present wind. A moment that was imprinted on my mind and one that will never happen again.  Rewind 21 hours and I was standing on the side of the road, holding Nick's bike and waiting for the clock to hit 10:00 and for the race to start. Dust clouds swirled around the footsteps of every person who passed. It had been windy since the sun has risen

It's a common issues with endurance racers and I am no different. No matter how great the race goes, I always search for what needs improvement or what went wrong. I am never satisfied with simply saying "that was a great race - had some issues but finished it out in the end." This was no different. Instead of looking at the results and thinking - wow those were so fast laps given what happen prior and the conditions we were racing in, I looked at the lap times and fretted. My laps were slower then I'd planned. I could have been more consistent. I should have been able to more closely match the women on the 4-coed and 5-coed team. Did it matter that I ended up doing twice as many laps? No. The women on the 4/5 coed teams are always among the fastest and so that's who I turn to for my comparisons. Which in turn leads to ever more criticism. It was no different out on course. On the climb, I kept thinking - oh, I'm giving away time here because I can't j

Naturally. First run since my hamstring tightened up that I allow myself to get away from an easy bail out point. For the past week and a half I've been sticking close to home, never straying much more then half a mile away. And of course, things were feeling better and better with an almost normal run Tuesday. Still slower, but everything felt good. I felt like I was starting to turn the corner and would be able to enjoy so great trail runs on our trip as well as rides. I packed two pairs of running shoes, just knowing that I was would be able to run as much as I wanted. We didn't stop Wendsday as planned for an easy ride - the weather and trail conditions eliminated that option. Nick offered a run, but I demurred, saying I'd felt great Tuesday and really wanted to take the day off running. I would run at Frog Town Thursday. Which I did. First mile, out on the road along the course felt great. No pain at al. So I decided instead of doing a small loop on a mix of singletrac

I think I hit a little harder then I had anticipated when I crashed last week. Beyond the normal aches and bruises, my right shoulder still aches and I've been really dragging and unusually cranky. I've had an AC sprain on that shoulder before, so I know that will just take time to heal up. It's the general fatigue and the abnormally tight hamstring that's starting to frustrate me. Like a bad athlete, I only took a few days off because my hamstring was hurting. I should have realized that my crash was harder then I wanted to admit and just chilled out. It's impossible to say if my hamstring wouldn't have flared up if I'd taken a few days off. But it wouldn't have hurt.  So now I'm dealing with a minor (major?) setback to not just my running but my riding as well. I was just starting back up with my track workouts and building up my speed. And now... Last Saturday my "run" was more of a frustrating shuffle where no matter how hard I tried to

It is a strange feeling to be fully committed to something and know that you will get hurt. The only question remaining is how badly. Such was my experience on Saturday. At the very end of a fun ride - with snow on the upper reaches of Gold Camp Road and traction for miles on every other trail,  we dropped into Strawberry Fields for the final chunk of single track before heading home. Before that came the final obstacle - a five foot rock drop. The rock alone is challenging, but made harder by a very narrow landing zone - bordered on the left by a large tree and on the right a rock filled ravine. After you make it though that, one more challenge remains. A step, rocky kicker of a climb. I've made the rock drop maybe 10 times total - and the entire section only a couple of times. The last time we rode there, I made cleanly all the way through. So I figured that this time would be no different.  Except it was. I slowed, let Nick clear it and then made the approach. I thought I was wh

It's no secret that I've decided that I'm going to do a 50 mile race next year and that I selected the Human Potential Running Series Sheep Mountain 50 in Fairplay as the race of choice. I have 8 months to get ready for the race - and part of the preparation is scouting the course so I know what I need to work on in the training. Just running is good, but it doesn't quite cut it when it comes to training for an ultra! I had a copy of the course map and wanted to focus on what I thought would be the hardest part of the race - the climb up Sheep Mountain. I had a little loop in mind that was about 16 miles, starting out of the Four Mile Campground. Sunrise from the camp site - a quiet morning except for the wind! Wind woke me up early. Howling down the gulch, bending the trees and sending dust eddies swirling. It was a chilly wind too - making me nervous about my plan to climb above treeline. If the wind was this strong down along the creek, what would it be like at

We've taken the shuttle to the top of Monarch Pass twice this year. Once for a ride of the last 50 miles of Vapor - the entire Crest trail with the addition of Starvation and Poncha Creek Rd. A worthy use of the ride to the summit. This time, the goal was the two creeks we hadn't ridden yet - Fooses and Greens. After last year's end of season exploring , we knew that we could make a good loop of it and get both descents on one shuttle ride.  Early morning shuttle ride meant I was able to catch the sunrise over S-Mountain while getting coffee Surprisingly, the only shuttle time Nick was told when he was making plans was 8:00am. Mid 40s down in Salida meant low 30s on top of the pass - burr! I was not overdressed in my wool puffy and wind jacket. At the top, I even had overgloves and headband on - it was that chilly. We were ready for the cold, so when our bikes were unloaded, we were ready to ride. The three of us - Nick, Shad and myself, were the first riders head

Ever since my solo ride that turned into a guided trip down Cottonwood, I've been trying to get backup there with Nick. It was such a fun ride - from swooping through the ravine at the start to the nearly-unridable (or so I thought) water fall feature near the end. Finally, we had good weather and a the chance to ride up Ute Trail to the jeep road. And then, it would be time to see if memory served me well and I could find the trail again. I wasn't confident - I knew I could get to the first part - the swoopy ravine section. But then there had been a grunter jeep road climb and an unmarked turn to the left to drop into Cottonwood proper. That was the section I wasn't sure about. We rode pretty easy up to the intersection with the jeep road. To my surprise, there was a brand new, very nice parking lot there now - not just an open field. And a sign. Nick started pedaling up the jeep road, but I headed over to check out the sign. A map of the S-Mountain trails, including th

It's a real thing - the fear of missing out. With so many great races and events in Colorado alone, there's not enough time and money to do them all. Something has to give and despite how much fun or how much prestige an event has, some times, enough is enough. Back in March, I had someone ask me if I was going to Weaverville for worlds this year. I admit to not having a clue as to what she was talking about at that point - the WEMBO 24 Hour World Championship. I did some research and filed the event away in my mind. If things worked out and I would be able to race, I would. It would be a honor to wear my Stars and Stripes for a World Championships and be racing for the chance to trade those in for a Rainbow. So very tempting. I could redo my plan for the rest of the year, moving my focus race back three weeks and then taking the previous A-race and turning it into start of the last hard block before Worlds. I actually sat down and planned it out to see how that would look. B

I'd had my eye on this trail run through Palmer Park for several months. Kept debating signing up - I knew I'd be able to do the distance, but wasn't sure about the quality of my running at this point. Two weeks after Vapor? Was I nuts for even attempting? After doing my last longish run before Vapor on part of the course - the sections on Templeton and Edna Mae - I was even less sure that it was a good idea. That was one of my slowest runs in a while and I was a little freaked out. I know that the running in Palmer Park is hard to begin with and the race course was taking us on some of the hardest and most techy trails around. Actually, the race course was hitting nearly every system trail in the park! While my legs were cycling tired after Vapor, I felt great running. Might as well - I was planning on running longish anyway. Instead of suffering alone, I could do it with some friends and have the support at the aid stations if I chose. Only problem - my old trail shoes

Like with most big races, I came into the 2015 Vapor Trail 125 with a plan. Time splits, light management, and food and water management. Would everything go according to plan? After a week of tapering and a day of sitting around getting nervous, it was finally time to find out. Last year, when I lined up on the F Street Bridge in Salida, I had no clue what I was in for. This year, I knew what was coming and was eager to get started. That last four hours of waiting is the hardest. The sun sets, darkness envelops the town and finally, it's time to get ready for a long evening and day on the bike. It was warmer this year then last and I opted to dress lighter - knowing that if I was a little chilly on the climbs, it would be a good incentive to ride harder! No long-sleeved jersey - just wool tank undershirt and arm warmers and knee warmers with the standard kit. An old pair of booties over my hike-a-bike shoes, some warm wool socks and my mid-weight gloves with my rain jacket for t

I did the same thing last year - writing about the volunteers of the Vapor Trail 125 before actually getting the race report finished. Why? Because without the volunteers, the race would near impossible to do except for the dedicated few self-support bikepackers in the group. So it is really the volunteers who deserve the kudos and congratulations for putting up with stressed out, mentally fatigued and possibly impaired riders at all stages of the race. Cascade Aid - in some ways the easiest aid station but also the hardest. The volunteers have to be there, ready to help from midnight on. It's the shortest time period for an aid station in the race, but the riders are all clustered together still and it's dark - making it harder to help. Nick and I met one of the volunteers at that station before the race. She was visiting from Oklahoma and was helping out "because it sounded like fun and you guys are amazing." No affiliation with any of the racers - just wanted to

Last year, I wrote about the moon during the Vapor Trail 125 - the light of the nearly full moon illuminating the Colorado Trail as we started, creating ghost-like shadows on the Chalk Cliff and then vanishing behind the mountains as we climbed up towards Hancock. There was darkness in those trees - the total darkness a September night brings. And then the climb over the Continental Divide for the first time. The darkness was banished by the orange moon hanging low against the horizon. Truly surreal, combined with the tiny dots of lights across the valley. A moment that can only be experienced once and one that I was thrilled to be immersed in. This year, there will be no moon. Perhaps, if I am lucky, the sliver of moon will appear as I climb up Granite Mountain. But otherwise, just the darkness of night and the chill of that darkness. Who know what lurks in the shadows of the backcountry? Without the moon, the noises will remain just a mystery - an incentive to pedal faster. If it i

I've always struggled with tapering. As a runner, a triathlete and a mountain biker - the taper just drives me nuts. I get so used to working hard and testing the limits of my tolerance to the training. Going to bed tired and then not being sure how I will respond once I start the next workout - I always love that. It's as much mental as physical at times, knowing when to push through and when to take a short break. And then comes the taper. Suddenly, it's time to recover and freshen the legs from all the hard work. Like most endurance athletes, not getting up to greet the sun is strange. I should be out running or something, not sleeping in. And after work, there should be another few hours on the bike - knocking out the intervals to make me faster.  It's a common trap for endurance athletes. Instead of trusting the process and the rejuvenation that the taper provides, too many athletes sabotage it though maintaining volume or too much intensity. Some intensity is need

We opted for a campground Monday night. It seemed like a good base camp for the final day of freedom - both for running and riding. I got up early and decided to run before the ride. Should be an easy run, I figured - about six miles by looking at the map. Just run down the road from the campground to the CT, a short little jaunt on the CT and then back up the road. I told Nick my planned route and how long I figured it would take. Another good test of my Rev 1.5 - this time with a long sleeved shirt due to the pre-sunrise chill. I still need to trim the straps on the two chest bands, but want to make sure I have the fit dialed before I do that. About a mile into the run, I passed Cottonwood Lake. With the stillness in the air and the sun rising, it was too pretty not to stop and get some photos. Looking towards the sunrise from Cottonwood Lake And then the road tipped downward. I knew I'd have run back up, but wasn't worried. It shouldn't be to much of a climb back