Thru Endurance We Conquer!

Today was one of those days. After a good ride yesterday and knowing that I should have kept going a little longer after my workout, I woke up to a dusting of snow and ice down low with several inches up in the mountains. At first, I had grand plans of heading out for a few hours on my fat bike. After all, that's what I have it for - so I can ride outside when the conditions are less then ideal. But as the day progressed, the motivation to bundle up gradually faded, made worse by the melting snow at home. It would be wet and cold and I'd need to spend time cleaning my bike after my ride. I spent much of the morning dealing with the "shoulds." I should have paid more attention to the weather and ridden longer yesterday. I should just buck up and head out in the snow, that's what all the tough athletes do. I should stop whining about the weather - I have clothes and gear for all conditions. I should have more confidence in my tolerance for crappy weather - after all

Sunrise photos between intervals are always tricky! I recently switched my work hours to provide a little more time in the morning to get my training done. And over the last month, it's been great. I get up at my usual time, even sleeping in just a little, ride or run and then head to work. Since I'm not really doing two a day workouts right now, it hasn't been an issue when I end up being there a little longer then 8 hours. It might seem counter intuitive - either way I have to do my workouts in the dark. But there's something about the mornings for me. I might be starting in the dark, but I won't finish in the dark. I'll get treated to a sunrise every day and be able to go to work knowing that I had a quality training session. I won't be stressed out about having to get home, unpack, grab a snack and then get out on the bike for two hours at 6:00 at night. I can get home and chill out or get everything ready for the next morning before relaxing. For me

Normally, the first weekend of November is race weekend for the final hurrah of the season. The 25 Hours of Frog Hollow, out in Hurricane UT. We race hard until we stop, then take a week for vacation. It's been great fun, but the vacation part was always limited because of the race. I would need a few more days of recovery following the race before thinking about big rides and Hurricane is such a long, long drive. Felt like half the vacation was in the van, driving! So this year, with Breck Epic taking up much of the racing budget (and training time) we had to pass on Frog Hollow. That didn't mean we didn't want to get away from COS for a bit though! It just meant a shorter vacation and less driving around. Sunset from camp in Oil Well Flats It was a little strange, not having the stress of the race as we were getting ready to go. All we had to do was pack some food and enough clothes for four days of riding. No emptying out the entire closet or cramming both coolers

Seven years ago - it seems so long - I completed a quest that not many people have. Run a marathon in all 50 states, plus DC. It seems so long ago, but the memories I have of each race hold on, making the adventure something that I will never forget. It all stareted out so innocently - Mom wanted to run a marathon in Alaska - the Equinox Marathon. So the entire family - me, my sister and mom and dad - headed up to Fairbanks in 1993 for my first taste of what 26.2 miles was all about. Mom ran that first marathon. I hiked it, with strict instructions to stay with my sister since I was only 14 at the time. And we all finished. I don't remember how long it took me and Kaylan to hike the course - I just know I didn't want to get beaten by dad and that I wanted to run so many times but she didn't. So we had to walk. And that hot chocolate delivered by Mom in a rent-a-thermos is the best tasting thing ever invented during September in Alaska. But that was my first state and as a

Long or short - that has been the question I've been throwing around in my head for the last year and a half. There is an allure to the longer races - the intensive preparation and mental focus required to succeed. Skimp on one aspect of the training and preparation and you risk the entire race. The longer the race, the greater the rewards for the effort outside of just running. At the same time, there is a simplicity to the shorter races that is so appealing. No fancy prep, no need for crews - just show up with a number and run as hard as you can! The entire weekend isn't focused on the one race and the months before aren't dedicated to hours of training with minimal social life. Last year, I thought I had a great plan for 2018. Take a break from Vapor Trail 125 and focus on running again. The Crested Butte 105k sounded like a great event and a hard challenge and I figured that would be my primary 2018 event. But then my eye flared up back in March and I really backed do

It's something I've never done in a race like the Vapor Trail 125. I've always been smart about pacing, holding something back until the end. It's one of the things allowed me to close so strongly last year to come within 5 minutes of Liz after being down by over 30 earlier in the race. I've always had my chart with my splits and times I would anticipate hitting various landmarks. This year I started that spreadsheet, filling in the times for a reasonable finish. But then something changed. I decided I didn't want to be bound by the times. I didn't want to be looking at a plan throughout the race and feeling pressured by the times. So I abandoned the smart, tactical approach I took the first two years I raced. Instead of racing for a reasonable finish time (17:30) I would go all in from the start and see where I ended up. The ultimate goal was a 16:30 finish time - which would be a PR by nearly an hour and a half. Would I be able to survive? Or would I blow

The tub is in the middle of my floor and I have both light brackets mounted on my Camber. I'm slowly starting to gather everything I need for this weekend. Clothes for all possibilities. Food - at least some of it. Marking some baggies of Skratch for the aid stations. My clear glasses and lights. Dark glasses for the drop bag at Monarch Pass. Dry clothes, new helmet and gloves. My Shuffle with the play list for the roads. Each item I mark off the list builds the anticipation. Finally, the second weekend in September is here. Finally, it's time to stop talking about riding my bike and actually ride my bike. In only a few short days, I'll be joining 45 other riders on the F Street Bridge, ready to set off into the darkness for my fourth attempt at the Vapor Trail 125. Outwardly, I'm calm. It's nothing. Just a ride. Inside, I'm terrified. How has September arrived already? It feels like only last week, I was pedaling inside on the trainer, pondering how the seaso

Last year I ran the American Discovery Trail 10k on somewhat of a whim - coming off a small bout of overtraining and poor recovery after my 50 miler. I surprised myself with a 42:31 and the win for the 10k. This year, I was hoping for at least a little faster, knowing that the win is always dependent on if "real" runners show up. I still run, but I don't really consider myself to be a real runner right now. More a dabbler who occasionally goes a little faster then others. But I'd been hitting some decent paces on my intervals and showing some solid splits for the monthly Neilson Challenge. So I was pretty confident that I would be able to break 42 minutes this year. One thing that I forgot about - or tried to ignore - was the fatigue still in my legs from the Breck Epic. But riding fatigue is different then running fatigue, right? I wish... Sleep was an elusive creature last night, between a neighbor's dog barking at something (the bear maybe?) the oppressive he

I've heard people talking about it - the dreaded mental let-down after a huge race. I've never really dealt with it before though; I've always been able to move the focus to the next race or event without much of an emotional toll. This was different. After the Breck Epic, it's been hard to refocus and recharge for that next event. I can't figure out why either - there was so much logistic stuff involved with the Breck Epic (drop bags! mandatory meeting! awards! repeat, repeat, repeat...) that it seemed hard to just settle down and ride my bike. Amber and I were a great team - I can't actually thing of another person I'd want to race as a Duo with. We communicated, helped each other out during bad patches, kept the mood positive and fun throughout the week and generally had a blast. We met some really fun people during the race - some I already "knew" through social media and some complete strangers. Every day was an adventure and capturing the emo

Stage 6 - the last day. For some classes, it was still racing as the time gaps were tiny. For us, it was pedal party time. There was no surmounting the distance between us and the leaders and the third place team was several hours behind Amber and I. So we didn't have to race. We just had to have fun and remember that's why we ride bikes. We aren't getting paid to ride or do crazy things like the Breck Epic. We do these things because they are fun and we love to ride our bikes. Ready to go for the last stage of the race While the descent of Gold Dust trail on the south side of Boreas Pass is the highlight of the stage, it's a roadies dream. Two long climbs to the Continental divide on Boreas Pass Road with nothing to get in the way of putting the head down and pedaling. Before getting to Boreas Pass Roas, however the course followed Breck Epic Course Rule #1 - if there is a fun descent, at some point in time you will climb up it. This time it meant climbing up Asp

After four hard days of racing it finally arrived. The shortest yet perhaps hardest stage of the race Wheeler Pass. "Only" 25 miles, but those miles involved climbing up to and traversing along the Continental Divide before plunging back down into the trees. Amber and I both knew that if we had a chance to take a stage, this would be the one. It's the one that suits us the best - minimal long pedaly sections like the Aqueduct stage that we both suffer with, but hard climbing, Hike-a-Bike and then alpine singletrack descents. We were both facing several sections of trail that we'd never seen before and that would be the major limitation what we had coming into the stage. Trail knowledge on those alpine descents can mean minutes - especially on the long one that we would face today. But first - the time trial start from the base of Peak 9. We watched the leaders blasting out of the start house and pondered warming up. Pondered. The prior four days and 150+ miles of ri

Consider us warned... Everyone we talked to regarding Stage 4 offered up various amounts of hard climbing and pedaly sections. It seemed that there was lots of climbing with minimal descending. A few people even said there were some sections that made them cry. So we were well prepared to utterly hate the 41 miles and another 6600 feet of climbing ahead of us. We also knew that this wasn't a stage that we would shine on - neither of are good on the pedaling sections. So it was settle in, hope not to lose to much time and ride our bikes. Work together on the climbs and have fun on the few moments of descending that we would get. That was the plan. Here is where I need to stop rambling about the course and the riding and talk about Amber for a bit. Breck Epic was her idea. A random thought that popped up and gradually solidified last year that we would ride Breck Epic together. Racing something like the Breck Epic is more fun as a duo, with someone always there to share in the suf

So if I thought the Colorado Trail stage was fun yesterday, well today was even more fun. But I have also decided that in the Breck Epic, if there is a fun descent one day, then we will be climbing back up it the next day! At least for these first few days... Another start on Washington Rd, another rollout on the gradual climb of Wellington Rd. I think on day two, we have finally gotten the rollout figured out because it was much smoother making that left hand turn. Amber and I right away settled into our duo happy place - riding with several of the men's duos that we've been riding with for the last two day. We were a much chattier group on the rollout today as well - taking our minds off of the 40 miles left to pedal. Amber and I started talking right away on the climb up Side Door, keep the pace real, keep the pedaling steady and just ride smart. We were starting the stage 31 minutes down, so riding intelligently and staying upright was more important then racing. Especial