The High Country

Mountaineer Bowl

Altitude Camp

I’ll be running in and writing from Gunnison, Colorado for the next week or so. I’m here for work, teaching a ten-day wilderness medicine course at Western State College, one of Colorado’s several state schools. The drive today, about four hours from Denver crossed some of the finest scenery in the country, vistas that remind me what I love so much about living in the West. After checking into my room at the Wildwood RV Resort (which features a golf theme that my Dad would’ve liked), I headed to the track at the college for my workout today. A few members of the school’s national-champion cross-country team were stretching at the entrance and were happy to invite me onto their home track, a resource that is open to the entire community. The track, and the football field it encircles, have the distinction of being the highest in the NCAA at 7,750 feet. I got most of my workout in but I needed to finish early so I could drive across town to meet my co-instructor at the airport. Endurance athletes have long found benefit from training at altitude. No doubt the thin air here will help me get ready for the challenging workouts in the coming weeks. I’m looking forward to sharing this part of the state in my posts with you this week.

Partners

Reason To Run

Running partners make a big difference. It’s one of the main advantages of the Team In Training program. Partners help motivate you to get out there when you’re feeling tired, or disinterested. They challenge you to go farther. They entertain. They distract you from your discomfort and they share in your suffering. Good ones dole out discourse and humor too as the minutes and miles pass underfoot. I’ve had some really good partners over the years. The high school cross-country team. Paul in Madison. Sarah in Prescott. Pascal in Boulder. My running partner this evening was Bre, and she was a good one too. Wednesdays are easy days in my training plan so we met at REI downtown to run the quickly-accessed urban paths along the river. Runners can customize a workout of nearly any length here because pedestrian bridges span the river at several points along the route. We kept a consistently steady pace that was by no means easy, but still allowed for conversation. We started the run heading south, following the river upstream, crossed an aging steel bridge, and then returned north, on the far side. The loop passed close by our starting point, tempting us to conclude our run early, but we kept going until we reached a more modern stone and iron bridge further downstream. Crossing over again, we turned for the last stretch back to the beginning. Nearby, the oldest bar in Denver, My Brother’s Bar, stands on a street corner and feeling that we’d earned a couple beers and pub food we stopped in to cap off the run properly. If you’re looking for something to motivate you to lace up the shoes and go, I suggest you find someone to go with. Here’s to running partners…

Intro To Dirt

Teammates On The Trail

Given the choice, I always prefer to run on trails instead of roads. This is often a solitary endeavor so I thought I’d mix it up by inviting some of my teammates to come along. I’d been talking to some of them about getting out on the dirt and had already hit the trails with Bryan so I found a few other TNT’ers willing to join in a trail run today. I picked South Valley Park because it is relatively close in to Denver and has many trails of varying length and steepness. Kelli, Elise, Heather and I met later in the day to find the cooler temperatures that can be tricky to find this time of year. My companions were trying their first trail run ever so  we picked a route that wouldn’t be too long and featured wide, generally smooth trails winding through the narrow valleys that split the tilted sandstone escarpments of the area. We set a respectable pace, slower than one we might feel comfortable with on the pavement, that permitted us to cope with the ruts, rocks, and gullies that runners encounter when they leave the asphalt behind. The trail, quite remarkably, was uphill both ways! It ascended gradually and then dropped quickly to Deer Creek Canyon Road. With all of the descent finished in that short section, we were left to climb back up to our starting point-over the next mile-and-a-half. Despite the upward trend of our route, we managed to stay together and make sure that we all made it back to the lot in one piece. Everyone felt like they’d worked hard and valued the added complexity that trail running introduces to the sport. All of us have different goals for the season and with my teammates feeling as though they’d met theirs for the day, my own ambition required that I head out for a second lap. I went back on the trail just before dusk, a time when wildlife is at its most active. A cottontail rabbit scampered into its warren below some trailside shrubs as I approached. A pair of mule deer grazed the bushes for their subsistence in the evening shade. Trail running appeals to me for many reasons and these chance encounters with wildlife is one of them. I cruised into the trailhead for the finish, heartened by an enjoyable run and the prospect of having a few more partners to choose from on future adventures.

Mix It Up

Cross Training

Monday is my cross-training day and I usually opt to spend it on my mountain bike. I chose to make the short trip to Matthews/Winters Park, just west of Denver along the ridges that make up the very eastern edge of the massive uplift that forms the Rocky Mountains. I’d been planning to ride a 7-mile loop for a while, one that I’d run before and that I knew would present a substantial challenge for me in the pedals. I started early to avoid the August heat and after crossing the road, the trail climbed up a free-standing ridge of sandstone along a rocky path. After a few switchbacks, I reached the top of the long ridgeline. Here, following the narrow crest of the ridge south, the trail became a rocky trough of angled stone, the bedrock here sharply broken by exposure to the elements. I doubted that I would ride much of this stretch and that proved itself out here, many segments requiring me to dismount and push or drag my trusty mount along with me. After some on-again off-again riding I came to the descent that plunged down into the valley, crossed the highway again and began a slow climb through waist-high grasses and large fins of red and brown sandstone to another highpoint at a sculpted saddle. From here the trail curved and twisted its way back to the trailhead, a fun and exciting ride on the smooth, hardpacked surface.

ReRun Run 2009

Inspiration At City Park

Kelli, Megan, And Amy

Sunday morning, after a restful sleep, I woke up with sore legs. I’d gotten up early again to offer help to a few other teammates. As part of their fundraising effort, Meagan, Kelli, Traci and Amy planned a 5K (3.1 mi) race over at City Park. What they’d pulled together was impressive. We slipped into the park through locked gates to get set up. The women had rented a large U-Haul truck and filled it with the many odds and ends needed to facilitate the run. This included among other things: A pop up canopy and tables for the registration area, dozens of muffins, bananas and bottles of water, flagging and signs to mark the course, a sound system for the DJ to spin music with, four 10-gallon jugs for water and gatorade, and a large digital timing clock for the finish line. The ladies had also secured permits and ordered a bank of porta-potties too. The race had a retro theme and was called the ReRun Run. As part of the theme, other events from around the country had donated boxes filled with leftover T-Shirts and finisher medals. Folks who finished the race might go home with a T-Shirt for the Colfax Half-Marathon or a cheese-shaped medal from the Wisconsin Marathon. With the start of the race nearing, the women divided up the duties and delegated tasks to the volunteers that had come to help. I helped put up the finish line banner and then went to help mark the course so racers would avoid any wrong turns. The final minutes before the race were hectic out on the course: putting up the last directional barriers and signs, posting volunteers along the course, and stocking, the aid station, but it all came together.

About 80 racers participated, more than anticipated, and many had positive comments to offer the organizers at the conclusion of the event. I can’t say enough about how well my teammates did to pull this off. The result was really astonishing considering they’d never taken on a challenge like this before. The planning, logistics, and event execution all went off without a hitch and I’d like to think that they have laid the groundwork to make this an annual event. We finished the morning with a celebratory brunch on the rooftop patio of a local restaurant, toasting the success of the race and the funds raised to help end blood cancer.

Mountain Race

The Georgetown To Idaho Springs Half-Marathon

I expected a dark morning when my alarm chimed its wake-up call at 4:45 AM. My brother, Thomas, was already awake and we went through the drowsy motions, taking morning showers and pulling together a light breakfast. We’d deprived ourselves of sleep and bacon today for a momentous event: The Georgetown to Idaho Springs Half-Marathon. This would be the primary race that I would use to judge my progress up to this point as well as the probability of accomplishing my goals for the Denver Marathon, now two months away. We fell into the car and merged with an early morning stream of other vehicles coursing into the mountains for the race. The sun lifted in the East and turned the foothills ahead pink, small glimmers of reflected light revealing the windows of mountain homes along the interstate. The highway rose steadily and then dropped into Clear Creek Canyon and the historic mining town of Idaho Springs. We found a place to park in town and walked briskly to the middle school where we joined fellow racers and a couple of Team In Training teammates in alphabetized lines to retrieve our racing bibs. Today I’d be racer 579. Then we went to stand in line for the shuttle that would carry us to the starting line in Georgetown (8,512 ft elev.), another historic mining town in a state that is chock-full of them. The school district bus, with “Goldiggers” (the high school mascot) painted above the windows pulled up, and we boarded for the short trip up valley. At the reservoir in Georgetown, a hulking mountain pocked with old mine shafts and laced with bygone roads blocked the yearned-for warmth of the sun, the temperature chilly in the high 40s. I went to stand in line for the bathrooms, a row of porta-potties with what seemed like half of my 2800 fellow racers standing patiently before the competition got underway. After that, I went and stood in line to place my bag in a car that race staff would deliver to the finish back in Idaho Springs. So, I did a lot of standing around in cold lines this morning. Serious runners and weekend warriors were assembling around the start and the crush of humanity squeezed onto the road behind the starting line, those anticipating a fast result jostling for position near the front. I was not jostling. The National Anthem played over the PA system at a volume that maybe the first 50 runners could hear, and then a countdown loosed the ambitious tension of the gathered mass onto the gravel streets of Georgetown.

Georgetown, Looking East Along The Race Course

My goal today was to run under an hour-and-forty minutes over the 13.1 mile course, that included a total elevation loss of about 1000 feet. This would require a pace of about 8 minutes-per-mile. The first checkpoint would come at two miles and I reached that point 15 minutes in, faster than my planned time, but I felt strong, my breathing controlled and steady, and my feet feeling light and responsive. After a loop through town the course began its descent to Idaho Springs along gravel lanes and the paved frontage road along Clear Creek; on the far side, Interstate 70. In 1859, on the banks of this creek, deposits of placer gold were discovered and a flood of prospectors set out for the Rockies. In the craggy peaks, miners found rich veins of ore and the gold-panners were joined by “hard-rockers”, blasting and hauling silver, gold, and other valuable minerals out of the hills over the decades that followed. As the boom died, the scenic peaks, rushing creeks, and generous snowfall became the riches of the region, attracting people from around the world for recreation and adventure.

The miles went by quickly for the first half of the race: mile 3 at 23 minutes, mile 6 at 44 minutes. At about 8 miles a ridiculously-dressed racer (lizard green shoes and black full-length spandex sleeves with lobster claw mitts at the hands-mind you it was hot now!) passed me despite his dubious attire and I stayed just behind him to help keep up my pace. I asked him if he was shooting for a certain time and he said “an hour-and-a-half” so I decided to stick with him if I could. He had a wrist-top GPS computer that could give accurate pacing information and he said we were going about 7 minutes per-mile at that point. I still felt pretty good and with two miles to go tried to push it a little harder. I left the Jade Lobster behind (at some point he’d garnered this villainous name and become my secret nemesis) and began to feel some twinges in my legs, muscles wondering when this test would conclude. I passed another water station and gulped a cup down, tossing the empty container on the ground. Then I pulled out an energy gel and learned an important lesson: if you eat gel during a race, make sure you have some water to wash it down. My saliva mixed with the chocolate goo and gelatinized into a pasty mess-not ideal at this stage of a race. The last mile was the toughest, my early acceleration catching up with me a little. I still passed a couple weary racers in the last half-mile, but spent most of the remaining distance worried about who might be over my shoulder-namely the The Jade Lobster! I held off any challengers, came into the crowd of spectators lining the final stretch and tried to kick and stride for the finish line. My unofficial time was about 1 hour and 34 minutes!

This time sets me up well for the Denver Marathon although I’ll need to run about the same pace over twice the distance to qualify for Boston. Still, I accomplished what I’d hoped I would for the day and have some confidence that I’m on the right track to do what I’d like to do at the Denver Marathon. With two months more of training and the support from my friends, family, and teammates, I’m optimistic. After the event I reunited with my brother who survived admirably despite deciding to compete last-minute. We joined other Team In Training members at the famous BeauJo’s Restaurant for mountain pizza and refreshments. I enjoyed hearing about the trials and successes that other team members experienced that morning and stuffing my belly with pepperoni, sausage, and cheese. After we’d had our fill, Thomas and I waddled and limped back to the car and the short drive home-the remainder of the day set aside for rest and recovery.

The Unknown

A Unique Track Workout

A violent afternoon storm tore through Denver about an hour before our track workout, bringing threatening skies crackling with lightning and rumbling with thunder. It may have deterred some participants from making it to the group practice today. Still, about a dozen committed racers showed up to see what would be in store for the day. Coach Greg often has the unexpected up his sleeve on track days. Today, after our standard warm up laps and stretching, he pulled out a whistle. The workout, called the “Whistle Run”, would start out with us running at a very easy, slow pace. When the whistle blew, we would lift our pace to a focused and energetic stride, about the pace we felt like we could sustain for a half-mile or so. We would continue running at this pace, not knowing when the whistle would blow again, until another blast signaled us to return to a slower recovery pace. Then the whistle would blast again and we’d be back to the fast pace. We would alternate this slow-fast for an unknown length of time and at different intervals. This workout serves as a great way to get our legs used to running while we are tired, but it also helped us mentally, focusing through the unknown. It was hard not to think you were hearing things sometimes, hoping that the whistle had just blown. Coach Rick took over for Greg and finished the workout, leading us in some group stretching in a circle afterwards. “Planks” are the toughest part of our post-workout activity. We lie prone and then lift ourselves on our elbows and toes into a straight position above the ground. The muscles of the core need to work hard to maintain the posture for as long as possible. The group is also really social after the work is done. We had a typical exchange when Coach Rick suggested we bring sunscreen to the Half-Marathon many of us are running this Saturday. Question: “Wait-where do we put the sunscreen?” Answer: “Ummm. On your skin.” Classic. We interrupted the stretching to head over to the HandleBar & Grill for some dinner and socializing to finish the night.

Finding The Rhythm

Back to the Track

I try to spend most of my runs off the track, but this evening I jogged over to West High School, a few blocks down from my house to use the old track behind the school. Rusting football sleds abandoned to the elements, sagging tennis court nets that gave an air of defeat, and tall grass growing unchecked out of the cracks of the old track indicated athletics had ceased to be a priority at the school a long time ago. A lone student was there, school now out of session at this time of day, kicking a soccer ball against one of the walls. I had come here to figure out a specific pace for training. As I get closer to the marathon, I have focused my training plan. This includes a few easy days a week where I need to keep a moderate pace. The best way to find that pace would be making laps on the track and I spent the next half-hour trying to sort it out and build the muscle memory so I could run the same pace off the track. Lap after lap, sometimes speeding up, sometimes slowing down I circled. By the end of the workout, I’d found the right rhythm and left the dilapidated oval to jog back home for the night.

Trail Tuesday

Grubstake Loop, Apex Park Open Space

Apex Park

I met up with Bryan, another Team In Training participant in the Apex Park Open Space lot just west of Golden, CO, home of the Coors Brewery, the Colorado School of Mines, the National Renewable Energy Lab, and the American Mountaineering Center. Apex used to be its own city, a supply hub for the mining districts in the mountains to the west. The course of our run would follow the old toll road that carried wagonloads of food and dry goods to the prospectors in the gold fields above. Bryan and I met to run together on one of our tougher training days with a planned route that would cover about five miles with somewhere in the range of 1200 feet of elevation gain. The sun was low in the western sky and our route started up the shaded canyon, climbing over jutting rocks, and wooden steps.  The temperature in the late afternoon had come down from the high to settle in the mid-eighties and avoiding the direct sun helped keep us comfortably warm instead of sweltering hot. Bryan and I just met a few days ago so we spent the time getting to know each other  when we weren’t out of breath and passed the time quickly. Up the Apex Trail to the Pick N’ Sledge Trail and the Grubstake Loop, names echoing the mining history of the Apex Open Space. Running with a partner definitely helps with motivation and makes the run easier. The Loop is quintessential Front Range Running. The elevation makes it a challenge that may not be the first choice for trail beginners but it was just what Bryan and I were looking for. And we’ve just scratched the surface. We’ve planned to explore more trails together as the season continues.

Morning On The Bike

Golden Gate State Park

I locked my bike to the top of my car early today and drove into the foothills of the Rockies for a morning ride. At the empty trailhead along Ralston Creek, I exited my car into a valley chill that I didn’t expect this time of year. I warmed up quickly, however, as the rocky trail started up a steep incline. Despite the sun having yet to rise above the mountains to the West, my exertion soon had me sweating in the saddle. I came to a small fishing pond, and passed a fly-fisherman standing thigh-deep in waders, casting long loops of line above his head as his quarry began to awaken and feed. The trail kept climbing in long switchbacks to a saddle behind Windy Peak. The peak undoubtedly deserves its name but at this time of day, the mountain air was still. The singletrack trail entered a thick pine forest and started to drop quickly through rocky terrain and sizable drop-offs, some of which required me to dismount to negotiate. Along Deer Creek, the trail became rockier and I bounced, bucked, rode, and ran along until the trail joined an old road that plunged back to the trailhead. The early morning workout is a great way to start the day.